Deeply Awake — All Was Illuminated 2-7-13

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Deeply Awake — All Was Illuminated 2-7-13

It’s funny how two minutes or so of my recent life have become, more and more, something that I revisit, and with the passing days, my fascination with those few minutes grows.

I had a Matrix-y experience on Christmas Eve. I knew I was experiencing Truth in those few minutes. Everything was, literally, quite literally, illuminated. I understood. My soul was looking out through my eyes for that brief time, a time of relief, wonder, confirmation, encouragement, beauty, awe, intricacy, complexity.

Instead of green numbers, there was a dizzying, effecting, affecting, brilliant, absorbing benevolence. It’s the only word that describes what I now understand physicality is. Physicality is a congealing of, a slowing of, into something flesh can experience, pure and utter and whole and symmetric and encompassing, engrossing, expanding, crashing benevolence.

That’s it.

I understood with my BODY that night that me, my kid, my ex husband, his car, our lives, our loves, our fears, our capabilities and our restrictions, our joys, hardships, challenges, pursuits, these were all adventures we are really enjoying! It is all so fascinating and exciting and immediate and thrilling! And all of it, literally and 100%, all of it is made of, MADE of benevolence.


I am, this hand, moving sort of achily across this black keyboard, these physical fingers are literally, not theoretically but literally constructed out of benevolence.


I remembered this morning something else about that experience. I remembered feeling calmly and strangely, very strangely, apart from the electro-magnetic, chemical wash that physicality is. I could feel all of it happening, not just with me, but with Sam and Jerry, in their bodies, as well. But although I could acutely sense physicality, I was bigger than physicality. I knew I encompassed this physicality, but that THIS, this illumination, this other, this is the true source, or at least the doorway to that source. The physical world is a fine and wonderful arena into which pure spirit is placed to experience with all our senses and with our hearts the physicalness of ourselves, our thoughts, our beliefs.

And everything was really bright. But not visually so. Just internally bright.

I return to those moments often. I am only now understanding the magnitude of what I allowed myself to inhabit, briefly.

Recently I have come to terms with not fitting in.

My need to belong, to fit in, has always been something which has produced something just short of madness within me. I yearn for it. To be able to be socially comfortable, interpersonally gracious, consistently helpful (in a soulic rather than purely physical way, when possible), predictably kind and thoughtful. I want to have every social interaction to be one of giving and receiving strength, acknowledging each other’s personal power to understand and transmute and laugh.

So I have been thinking that maybe it is not a bad thing that I have been programmed to be so horribly stunted socially. I have found, in my life, overall, that relationships suck. But I now understand that most of the sucking was due to my expecting to get my needs met through anyone or anything other than my own heart and soul and body.

So once I started to figure that out, I found I was surprising myself with easy social interactions.

And now, looking at me interacting, I think what the average bear would think is that I am a pretty happy, confident and generous person with a positive mental outlook who is only out to help, who maybe has a little diarrhea of the mouth, but who is harmless at worst and wonderfully vibrant at best.

And I now can see this. It’s as if the scared, socially retarded, terrorized part of me sits back during most interactions in some kind of stunned silence. I am shocked, most of the time now, with what comes out of my mouth. I may have a creepy impulse even, but for the most part, what comes out of my mouth, and from heart, in that moment, is kindness. I noticed this phenomenon with my dad first. It started, actually, when I was married. I remember asking Diane about it.

I wondered if my responding with genuine kindness and really authentic caring with someone in conversation with whom I am having a troubled relationship, isn’t that just plain disingenuous?

But I am seeing an arc to this now.

I think when I am responding to someone in an “uncharacteristically” or surprisingly heart-generous way, I think now that this is my better nature responding in the moment. I used to be someone who “can’t pretend to like somebody.” I really had a hard time with that. And it ostracized me a lot, because I just found it really hard dealing with certain people. The icky ones, the poisonous ones. I just withdraw, retreat, don’t even engage. Why bother? Some people are interpersonal predators. Not worth my time.

That’s hard though. I wanted to be someone who could see the good in anyone, and who didn’t HAVE TO pretend to like anybody, she just could see something good in anyone she encountered. I wanted to be that person. And now, at least on my good days, I am. This is why I always admired my mentor Marge. She could socialize with the biggest creeps at our nursing home. The ones who drank on the job, the ones who got arrested for drunk and disorderly the weekend before. She always was friends with everyone, but really, companion to none of us. I wanted to be like that. I can see more of this emerging now, and I like it.

See, I used to think that not acting on my baser impulses made me dishonest. But now, in conversation, even with really awful-acting people, I am absolutely compelled, as if there is no other option, to speak in ways I wouldn’t usually. With encouragement. With humor. With indulgence. With neutrality. With authority. With good spirits.

And it’s happening more and more and more these days.

I think, when I act in this way, because it feels so good, and so right, and because the response is ALWAYS wonderful, I think that these surprising little attacks of kindness are actually my Higher Self (if you want to use that terminology) acting. And the scared, vulnerable, convinced-I-have-no-power Self is observing.

I think that is what is happening, and I see it more and more these days.

And I think those illuminated moments has spurred on this growth.

I remember, working with The Teachers, learning all about The Spin, the merkahbah and its spin. In meditation, I felt that spin. It is so intoxicating, so overwhelming as to be nearly obliterating. I think that’s why I kept it from myself for as long as I did. It’s the nearest thing to death that a person can feel, I think. In fact, I think it’s what dying feels like. It is such a sweet release, an absolutely intoxicating, exuberant, mystical, fun sensation.

I have now become better friends with spin. I haven’t felt that consuming spin since the ’90’s, but I have had lesser exposures to it. I play with spin when I play Texas Hold ‘Em on-line, and I like to play with spin when projecting my consciousness. I especially like to try to spin with animals. I don’t know why, or what any of it “means.” All I know is that I got six out of ten cows to come over and lick my hand by spinning with them, separated by a fence, in a field at sunset in Golden, Colorado. I am fairly convinced I could be a modern day Snow White, go into a forest and sing a jaunty tune, and pretty soon being covered with birds, my clearing carpeted with soft, furry little woodland creatures.

Spin. Illumination. Energy.

I have stripped most of this, now, from dogma that is in the common market. Although I do enjoy St. Germaine and his legion of Arch Angels, and consider Michael a personal ally, I also am beginning to think that physical life, down to the mundane acts of making coffee or going potty, are fascinating, symbolic and fun. I am no longer convinced that magic must be cordoned off, placed on hold, waiting for ascension or some magical moment when, because you got off the stick, I got to wake up.

I guess the reason I am writing is because I feel very different now, and the truth is, I have always felt different from most people.

I don’t understand why people choose to stay in relationship with each other, in married union, when they don’t like each other and are mean to each other. I choose to not do that. But, as I grew, I came to understand that because of my misinterpretations of situations, and because of heartaches, I began to feel that ALL interactions with ALL people were painful, because I sensed this gulf, between the inner and the outer, between intent and impact, between soul and personality, and the gulf has been so wide with so many of my people, I just wound up feeling sad and lonely.

Does that make sense? It is as if it’s been impossible to communicate honestly with people, and instead I am dancing around with their thought constructs, this one labeled “I’m not good enough for love,” and that one “I am smarter than you,” and this one over here I think goes by, “No one ever does anything right.” I mean, how do you get to someone’s heart when their minds are all congested with false beliefs? I know I didn’t. I had so many of my own that it made true communication highly improbable.

I had my blocks, that is for sure. Not feeling worthy, believing myself to be powerless, knowing myself to be inept, incompetent and incomplete. Yep.

So now, as things begin to clear, and my thoughts are maybe a little more lenient toward myself and others, I have a different relationship with socializing.

I am not afraid of it anymore. I am not afraid of people anymore. I am not afraid of myself anymore. People can’t hurt me, but they can act in the most unpleasant of ways. There is behavior I prefer, and that which I do not prefer. But if someone is rude or offensive toward me, I can no longer own the poison. It just sits there on the floor, having missed its mark. The guilt thing, nope, that’s no fun to do with me either. So what is left is honesty and humor, really.

And that’s what catches me off guard, I think. The absence of my skeletons. The dance floor just has flesh and blood now, no bones rattling over the smooth tile. Just whole, beautiful, mysterious humans, no clanking thoughtforms, rattling their chains and moaning. No skeletons, vestiges of a stubbornness that no longer serves.

So, not fitting in? Anymore, it just matters not to me.

In a very non-mean way, with no malice in my heart, I can tell you that no man, woman or child is my authority. No entity, group or state is my authority. I am my own authority, but only about my life, and reality as it affects me. You are your own authority. It is the mark of an unrealized person to claim authority over another in any way. In any way.

As my own authority, I fully admit that I, as me, have incomplete conscious knowledge. This forms my core of happy humility. The moment I believe I have it figured out is a sign of restriction, of constriction, of amnesia. That’s all. I happily do not consciously understand all of it.

But now, because of that illumination, because of all the work I have done in these years, now I truly understand that I am a tiny portion of all that I am. The me who was in the truck that night, the one who observed and experienced and is now reporting this sensation, this knowing, well, she is a projection of something far more complex (and benevolent), and what I come from, what I am projected from, IS me. I can OWN this light, this illumination. Because IT is ME, I am IT, We are WE.

So now, I cannot really fit in with some of the hypnosis our culture gobbles up. Or at least I don’t take it quite so seriously. Fit in? What? What does that even MEAN? Doesn’t “fitting in” really mean just being able to get along with anybody you encounter?

The fitting in I think I am referring to, the fitting in that has been troublesome and a bit of a cross to bear, is the feeling of going completely and utterly unrecognized, and further, knowing that my beliefs, my core principles, are in direct opposition to some very key values most people hold.

I guess I realized last night, and more fully this morning, that this keen sense I have always had of not fitting in, well, that’s been training. I felt it acutely and wrestled with it until it was dead. It is dead. Starting to stink the joint up a little, really. And that’s why I write this. To bury the corpse. To give the dead their moment of meditation, of honor, of thanks.

Fitting in was once the highest ideal I had, I think. I mean, to some extent it is what drove me to go to school, finish my training, choose a career, marry, procreate. Be highly, acutely aware, and then be a nurse. Bump into people raw edges constantly. Make a buck. Please the boss. Always fall short. In every way. Always look ahead, plan, anticipate, judge, decide.

Fitting in. You go along to get along. My ex used to say that employment is all about eating shit. You stay with a job, eating their shit, until you just can’t take their shit anymore. And then you go somewhere else, and have to get used to a brand new kind of shit. And you eat it as long as you need the money.

That is my ex’s philosophy of life, really. Sad, actually hypnotically despondent. But I think it is a lie to say that employment has become anything short of some sort of psychic rape scenario for most of we employees. We put up with a whole lot of indignancies that our parents and grandparents have no knowledge of.

I find the whole work thing quite intrusive and melancholy. Of course, we find much good within the confines we’ve drawn for ourselves, but, honestly, isn’t it perverse to agree to take a new job, shake hands on the agreement, and then have to submit our urine for inspection? Don’t you find that offensive? I mean, on SO MANY LEVELS, just really offensive.

Frankl found the meaning of life in the camps, so did the Ten Booms. But that doesn’t make the camps a good thing, a right thing, an exalted thing, or something we should replicate. So, yeah, neat things, exalted things, happen all the time at work. How can they not? We are all pretty neat, exalted creatures. But look at the environments we have constructed for ourselves!

These are things I do not agree with. I am weird. I think that insurance was maybe at one time a great and benevolent idea, but it has turned into a three headed monster. It’s weird. But it is we who have warped something that was probably, at one point, a great idea.

Buy into a system which tells you, hypnotizes you and shocks and scares you into believing that you cannot know or help the body you inhabit. You cannot expertly treat or address physical issues, and if you do, and there is something really wrong with you, then you will die.


And Medical insurance allows you access into this cult. The cult of the white coat. The cult of powerlessness. The cult of vulnerability. The one who cures you of your ills. And without access to the cult of the white coat, your body, which is set up to decay and malfunction, will succumb to death, since our bodies are prey to invisible predators and gluttonous cell growth, with looming “superinfections” which refuse to be killed with antibiotics.

We have set the whole thing up so interestingly.

So I am not really going to “fit in” when people want to go on and on about how their bodies are things which are betraying them, or machines that are malfunctioning. I smile, and I nod, and all the while keep in mind that they are believing some powerful things which are, unfortunately, wildly inaccurate.

I guess what I am trying hard to say is that, through all this training, all the acutely awkward, searingly embarrassing years I have stumbled through social interactions, I have found myself, now, somewhat immune to the sting of embarrassment, the tempered chill of shame.

I know people want to engage me in that dance, because it’s the only one they remember, but I don’t want to do it anymore. I find it destructive and nullifying. Diminishing. Simple. Void of complexity and lushness and richness of thought, feeling, experience.

So I really don’t hate people, although I do get not so much annoyed as tired, impatient. And I am unskilled at times with my communications, I am inexpert at giving love. I like to give information, considering that a gift that keeps on giving. But that gets old.

Did I mention I am super flawed and have many things still not functioning well? Things are a hell of a lot better, but do not think for one instant that I am perfect, or that I am more than you, or you are less than me. That is nonsense, because we are all equals.

I am feeling happier, clearer, more hopeful now than ever before.

And I want to tell you why, in closing.

It has always been my inner understanding that I am special in a mystical, religio-spiritual way. I have always been a mystic. Always. It has caused great discontent in my life, high melancholy, great loneliness and homesickness.

But I understood that I had to make my way, I could not sustain myself, this lifetime, in the land of Spirit. Although I was still exploring nunneries and convents and will always have a physical need in me to live apart, I know this is a metaphor.

I came in wanting, needing, craving this knowledge.

Above writing and my disdain for nursing, above and running through all of it, is my need, my need to understand. I want to know it all. I want to know what happened in Lemuria. What is Mu? When did that one planet that is now the asteroid belt, when did that happen? How do you activate your merkahbah, or is there such a thing? How does it feel to be a tree, or a leaf, or a cat, or a president, or a poet, or a space alien, or a creator god?

Why am I here? Why is everything here? Who am I? Who or what is all this other stuff? Does any of this have meaning? If so, what is that meaning?

These are not questions thought infrequently by me. I have had periods, my desert years, when, really, my function was to implode within physicality, lose myself within it so completely, that when the time came to start pulling myself out with simple common sense understandings, I misinterpreted these are signs from God. My Angels were “protecting” me. Even The Teachers took on an unnecessarily messianic position in my life. Everything non-physical, when I was waking up, was holy, sacred, profoundly and unmistakably so.

As it is. And as it should always be seen. The fervor with which I envisioned it all was, in retrospect, necessary but no longer so. I consider myself an excellent pupil. And I know myself to be an excellent teacher.

I am very exited about the adventures in consciousness on which I am about to embark. The world is full of paradox, the kind of paradox that can only make you laugh out of shocked joy, surprised delight, new wonder and deep appreciation for the high absurdity in all this benevolence. I think a high absurdity factor is extremely important in my life. I appreciate the absurd the way most people appreciate a good wine, or a really good BM. I love irony, paradox, but absurdity, ooh, baby, it hits the spot every single time.

So, things are different, and I yearn for that feeling again. Much like I long for the spin, a full-on spin, I want that again too, but this lighting up from the inside, feeling apart and so fully integrated with —- there are no words. Unfortunately, I have found a place I cannot translate well.

And I have been calling it to me, but it hasn’t come back.

I worry I may never feel it again, but I remember, when in the moment, understanding that this is indeed my natural state, and one I will attain consciously, uninterrupted. That’s sort of the goal, you see. If indeed that state of consciousness is my natural state, and where I CAN live all the time, then I really want it now. It is beyond words, the beauty, the grace, the love.

Such love. I understood to my depths that Jerry and Sam and I are in each other’s lives because we love each other. The appointments are all love based. Everything is love. The hardships, the lessons, the restrictions, the fears, the unmet goals and highest aspirations, all of it, every stitch of it, is love. Benevolence. It’s why we show up. And the love, in this state, is so vibrant, physical, animate and alive.

With this knowledge, imparted me in just a couple minutes while riding jump-seat in my ex-husband’s truck of Christmas Eve, I have accelerated my understandings. My comprehension is different. I see things differently, and I understand things in new, fresh, fun ways. I am no longer embarrassed to point out sheer nonsense in thinking, and very lovingly explain why I will not comply with x or y.

An aside – as an example – my son gets bullied, called “fag” and other words, on a daily basis at school. Today, finally, someone with some authority called me up and wanted to talk about it. I explained my frustration, that this has been going on since day one, that he was spat on and called fag and had to go home for the day right before Christmas break. It’s awful, and it’s been super hard.

She is actually someone with some clout, and she and I are going to be implementing the HRC safe-class program there. She heard me, has not fallen into an apologetic heap, has acknowledged there is a problem and she has the ability to address it, and, by God, she is! When she heard some of the specifics of Sam’s suffering these last six months, she told me that we should consider filing a lawsuit. When I declined politely, she warned that mediation is the only sane response to such harassment.

Here is what I said, “I will not be pursuing legal action, and I will not allow that to occur in relation to son. I would much prefer to use my native creativity and intelligence and drive toward actual structure change.

I will not comply with complaining about the system to the system when it is the system that is the problem. I refuse to believe that punishing somebody is going to solve anything. I want, instead, to apply our desire for a better experience by actually doing things to change the experience.”

She agreed that this made a lot of sense.

Is that new agey? Buddhist? Psychotic? Crazy? Hippie-ish?

No. It’s just good, common sense.

If the system is fucked, it makes no sense to bring that to its attention. I mean, this particular system is so spectacularly fucked. Breathtaking.

But so is medicine.

So is the legal, the “justice” system.

For that matter, so is banking, retail and the corporate world.

And how did it get so fucked? So fucked that a 12 year old who identifies as gay is given the gift of daily having to remember how to rise above the poison of others. I mean, the kid is on a crash course of spiritual weight-lifting, but couldn’t we make it a little easier on the guy?

Our way of life, the way we see things, has allowed us to do many pretty inhumane, short-sighted, dumb things to ourselves and to each other. The thinking is, of course, alive and well within the halls of our schools. Not so much with the kids anymore, but the teachers have it in spades. But so do most grown-ups…

But it is not that we are evil, shadows incarnate, and that we have to “ascend” through the “darkness”. That is part of it, and the spiritual quest is an inclusive one. There are angles and demons abounding currently, because they are believed in. In many ways, I think we have transferred many of the attributes older generations attributed to God onto our corporate lords/government/banking.

They are all powerful. Work has become something of a personal God to us, hasn’t it? It is that which gives, and that which takes away. It’s a judgmental and temperamental God, a god of the old testament, ruthless, punitive, a God of retribution and aggression.

Interesting the parallels.

And then, within this government/corporate entity is evil, the reptilians, the Illuminati. It is our metaphor to remind us that external wealth, largesse, seeking good without, is fraught with dangers. Just look up Alex Jones, watch Icke, and you will see the metaphor in motion. The Gods and the Devils within the machine.

It is all highly dramatic, very messianic, but they are clues to a bigger truth, that the truth, and all good, lies within, and from within is manifested outwardly. That we are very good at scaring ourselves, teaching ourselves with fear. Seems to be the preferred method right now, really.

What we are made of, our reality is made of, is mysterious, looming, amazing thoughts and possibilities. With our visual disturbances, some of these mysterious things look, act, appear to be dangerous. Funny how creative we are. And how energy, distorted, takes on some very interesting shapes.

This is all I know. I am the first to admit this is nothing but a rambling blog entry. No artistry in this one. God, none at all. No really structure, no sense of purpose, lots of asides. But that is where I am today, and it is pleasurable to allow my mind to go where it will.

There is something big brewing. A change is in the air, I can feel it. I cannot sustain this level of integrity without some sort of expansion in ability. Does that make sense? I feel a storing up of possibility, of joy and exhilaration, and I know this will take a good and fun form in my life soon. I will perhaps prod and poke at it a bit, just to make sure I get my two cents in, sort of like letting the kid pick her wallpaper when you move houses.

Something is on its way. I want that illumination again. I want to live within it forevermore. I want spin and I want ancient knowledge and I want it to all come together. And because I want it, I am going to get it. I am getting it, bit by bit.

I close with that thought. I think that it is only in the last week that I have finally, fully given myself the permission to inhabit these understandings, of which I have always been sure, but never spoke of for fear of not fitting in. That just because not a lot of people know about this stuff, that doesn’t make it unreal. It doesn’t invalidate it. Just because you haven’t had a matrix-y thing happen to you doesn’t mean that it did not happen for me.

And this great freedom, breaking with the herd, I know that lots of people have that sort of freedom, at least socially, or maybe they give themselves that freedom physically. I give it to myself by allowing the writing to progress, I think, maybe. But just breaking away completely, choosing to discard full blocks of belief systems and structures, this is the fun part.

And socializing is made easier now, because by word and deed I can now see a person’s level of understanding. I don’t push the river, don’t offer too much, have more mercy and patience, most of all with my patients. Harder to do with those closest to me. I am working on that.

But the authority thing, that one is solved for me. No one is my authority, although many people have many clever and interesting things to impart. Everyone is just as awesome as me, and some know it. They are fun to play with. The most fun of all.

That is what has changed.

I no longer want to fit in with most of the people I encounter. I mean, until people are more interested in playing with reality, talking about reality, inhabiting this expansive place, then, anymore, I am really nice and pleasant and kind with people. I enjoy giving love, helping by reminding people of their own strength and intelligence and creativity.

So I can fit in anywhere.

But each of us knows that deliciousness of not having to hold back and not being misunderstood while in the act of expansion. Each of us knows how constricting it is to constantly deal with people who’ve tricked themselves into dramas they then rail against.

I am a master at that, am I not? I am great at it, and it really only takes a flick of the wrist to pop into that framework, where everything is struggle and oppression and sadness. But this mindset holds fewer interests, fewer wonders, and it is sort of monochromatic and sterile.

We spice it up with tales of demons and evil corporations and Illuminati pop singers who are secretly brainwashed and victims of ritual sexual abuse. Yeah, whatever. I don’t even know what that could be a symbol or metaphor for. It’s pretty weird. But it is only one of a veritable cornucopia of things you can peruse on the internet. Gods and demons, heaven and hell, sinners and saints, ascended masters and the great unwashed flock.

Who knows where it will wind up, but I hope we can move into that illuminated place. I think if each of us had a few minutes of that, maybe even just once in a lifetime, it might be enough to stop some of the nonsense.

Maybe not all of it, but, when you know that everything, absolutely everything, including your body, your thoughts, your emotions, your desires, the things you have never been able to accept about yourself and reality, everything, absolutely everything is made of love, of benevolence, of creativity, of expansiveness, of permission, such absolute and utter trust implicit in how we have been endowed with this life force, are one with it, are it… maybe if every single person had a hit of that in waking consciousness, things would ease up a little.

People would be nicer to each other. They’d have to be, after a dose of that. Because you understand, comprehend in an undeniable way, a way you can never un-know, that we are all unique and we are all made of the same stuff, all at once.

And everything has, at its base, as the prime instruction, the only understanding, the one truth, love. And there are many rays to this love. Respect. Adoration. Joy. Power. Integrity. Intactness. Completion. Curiosity. Safety. Desire. Sacredness. Reverence. Deep and holy reverence.

Now, I think what that was that I experienced was a gift to myself. I think I gave the gift of seeing, for a few moments, my reality through the eyes of something bigger than me, the thing from which I sprang, knowing my now personality to be a grand thought, written with a dramatic flourish, alternatively bold and soft pen strokes, written with a fine antique Mont Blanc pen. I am a novel, a paragraph, a word. Thought of, then uttered, then written by benevolence itself.

So are you, my dear friend, and I am not able to forget that now. I cannot comply with requests to see you or me or anyone else as small. Yes, I have crappy mental habits, we all do, and I make mistakes.

I am no messiah, I’m just a frumpy 52 year old nurse from Denver. If I can have a glimpse at the light in the projectionist’s booth, so can you, see? And until you get a hit, probably as unexpectedly, maybe in a way-low moment such as I was in at the time, BAM, you will see that what I say is not crazy, and that most of what I did in my life makes perfect sense when looked at through eyes that are lit up like so. At least it does for me now.

So, there you have it.

I started out thinking I would just be mourning having not experienced that feeling again, and maybe equating it with the elusivity of my merkahbah spin. But something else happened. It think I was able to bring that lesson home in a way I’d been struggling to but hadn’t managed before.

I want to live in that electric matrix-y beauty of unconditional benevolence. But I no longer feel bad about having experienced it, or sad, and that is because I hold no fear about the experience now, and writing through it helped me attain that.

So thank you for reading along, if you still are, ha ha. I understand, mainly from reading Seth and thinking a lot, and doing a lot of meditating (and sleeping, tons of that!) that that was indeed a TASTE of what is occurring even now.

It is not to be seen in messianic terms, of right, wrong, up, down, master/guru/christ. It is to be seen as a fact of life. And to want more of it is right and good. It is smart to want more of it. But the longing is unnecessary now, because I know, I just understand and know that this state is my birthright.

It is as I am, and no one can separate me from it but me. It’s all on me, how I choose to see things, how I decide to interpret things. And this interpreting things, it is important. Really important. But can only be done well once the ground rules are understood.

I hope this helps you on your way. All, for me, for a few moments, was illuminated. I hope that I have been able to turn into a celebration the complexities and innate mercy keeping all of our hearts pumping, the winds circulating, the trees nourished, people with their exaggerated beliefs in good and evil, right and wrong, blame, crime and punishment safe and far from the harm so desperately fascinating them.

If you find you no longer fit in, and it no longer bothers you that you do not fit in, can I join your club? I wonder just how many of us there are now.


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