Fire in the Whole

too many of us are just struggling to survive - how can that be right? in this time when everything is handed to us, we are dying on our feet. Why? We don’t have to hunt mammoth, don’t have to find roots and berries, don’t have to light fires to drive away wolves from the cave door. We choose what to do, what to eat, who to be, and yet we’re still so far from happy. maybe further than before, who knows? not me, i’ve never known anything but this. at least as far as i remember - my past lives haven’t come flooding back to me yet, if they ever will. Depends on the path i set for myself all those years ago, before i materialised - made myself matter. can you dig it? Isn’t it funny, the middle class white girl, embracing reincarnation like there’s no tomorrow. But if time is a 4d bubble, maybe there really is no tomorrow, maybe it’s all today, at least sometimes it feels that way. most times i guess, since i work so hard to seize the moment, make the most of it all, always watching, learning, working, trying my hardest, trying my darndest to be happy. and it works, sort of. I don’t feel like dying, so that’s a start. I feel like living, with all my heart. rhyming timing flowing through my veins like this freeverse, spilling out onto the page, can you feel my heart race? no thrill like truth seeking, no thrill compares at all. that feeling of path pursuing, of chasing down the concept, reaching the points along the way, racing further up the path, the thrill of grasping a piece of the puzzle, that piece of truth safelty secured under my belt. it glows and twinkles in the darkest of nights, and with it’s guiding light even in this long dark night of the soul i can burn bright. chasing clues like the dark knight, if you’re in it for the bling i might give you a fright with my fervor for the furthermore. but i can’t help it, i was born this way, made this way, forged in fire and the brightest light. can’t keep me from the source, and not even my physical limitations can dim the light i instinctively know is just below the surface, just that bit higher, up up the tree of life, ever chasing that light. I’ll dive deep with only my hope to buoy me when times get tough, dive deep for the pearl of truth, inconvenient or otherwise. throw myself into life with no respite, who needs rest when they’re a being of light? atoms linked together to house a piece of heaven, to carry me from place to place, always stepping to the side of the rat race, away from the crowd with the sad face, all staring bleakly at their feet, never questioning the orders shouted from the boss, the big boss, the one on top of the world, ma. never looking ahead at the crater we headed for, the crevasse we’re almost tumbling into, the canvern below, with it’s beckoning maw - hell is a life without purpose, people. heaven is a life with people who share your goal.

and it’s all playing out right here, down here, in the playing ground, the battle ground, the material realm where our theories are tested out, our ideas are tried out, taken right to the end whether you thought them through or not. no thought left unthunk, no path left untrod, everything must be tried, every experience gathered. and when you have the full platter, when you’ve sampled the whole smorgasboard, then, and only then, can you return to god. but by then you’ll probably want to aid enlightenment more than you’ll want to rest, so it’s back to the playing board, with a new plan from the drawing board, to initiate change in a positive way for the sake of your brothers in arms, your sisters in births, taking your chances for better or for worse. because it’s just one life, how hard can it be? as hard as the hardest thing you’ve ever done, son. life doesn’t stop, and it doesn’t pause and when you need a break it all just goes faster, but that’s they way it goes, because this is a training ground to teach us all to harden up. harden up or sink. no other options, and death was never an option to begin with.

Sometimes I see through this alphabet spell

sometimes I look at words and they don’t look right. That can’t be how you spell that sound, it’s too ridiculous. food - what kind of a word is that? Wolf - who’d put an L and an F next to each other like that? That must be wrong. But then the dictionary sets me straight and I continue to communicate in the proscribed manner, but it still might not feel quite right. This alphabet spell, it’s not organic. yes, it’s convenient, but is that everything? But communication is necessary, but shouldn’t I be communicating without a computer? Why is this consigned to cyber space? When I type the letters flow but sometimes when I look they don’t seem right, but then they go back and I stop being critical and I accept the limiting/freeing confines of language which allow such self expression and I write and write til it’s like I’m showing the universe my soul - but in this great big net, is anyone listening? Can anyone listen, when there’s nothing to hear? I can’t help but feel I should be putting this out there, putting me out there, talking to someone real, but it’s so hard to find real people. People who are free from their ego, who are not self-conscious, not crippled by anxiety over supposed inadequacies. People who flow freely and go where the universe takes them, heeding the clues dropped along the way like the mystery crew would. We’re all so set on our paths, our types, our little selves with our imperfect shells and our built-in flaws. And it’s a beautiful thing, I don’t mean to diminish that, this creation is truly a triumph of wills, all combined for a common cause, but we mustn’t get bogged down in our creation, we must not become the portrait, when we made it to find ourselves, our inner selves, outside of it. 

I’m trying to take hold of this language spell and use it for my own means, and that’s why I’m writing this. The first step is acknowledgement - once you understand what you’re dealing with, you can take it unto yourself and do what you will with it, but if it’s unquanitified, unspecified, unanalysed it’s just there, existing, independent of you, except when it uses you. Don’t be fooled - don’t spread black magic. Don’t wear words you don’t condone, because by spreading them you make them real. You put things into the universe, and our individual contributions shape what it will become for all of us. So think about what you wear, and  what you say, because it’s all output in one form or another. Our input affects reality. I’m sure that’s something we can all agree on.

So buck this trend of knocking yourself down, saying “one person can’t do anything”, that sickening mantra we’re fed from such an early age. One person can do something, and can do anything - anything they want. And if we all do what we want, if we all follow our dreams without fear of where they may lead, then can you imagine what a world this could be? With so many dreams a reality? So much potential, realised? real - ised — made real. You can realise anything. You can materialise anything. So what are you materialising?