Do not turn away,
But be deeply present with how you feel.
Invite the boredom in,
Set a place at the table for restlessness,
Go for a walk with dissociation,
Hold heartache's trembling hand,
Have tea with uncertainty,
And speak openly about your fear of death,
Because in the end,
You will lose everything and everyone.
We have yet to uncover a way to keep all we love from leaving us,
And have no means to keep things from changing,
So open your palms and let what is here pale for a fleeting moment before spilling over.
Nothing is certain,
And yet everything is certainly present,
And take refuge in this.
Is it not spiritual to feel a certain way?
If so,
Release the shackles of spirituality.
Is it not evolved to still carry anger within?
If so,
Abandon the pursuit of evolution,
And simply be present with your anger.
Are you manifesting terrible things into your life?
Let go of the notion that you are personally responsible for everything,
And leave space for the greater truth that you have no control at all.
So life was supposed to be different,
Feel the disappointment,
There's nothing wrong with being heartbroken for what never came to pass,
And it's okay to feel sad for what came and went.
Only the holding hurts.
What is wrong with being human,
If not the false belief that there is something wrong with being human?
There's nothing wrong with longing,
Nothing wrong with pain,
Nothing wrong with a tender heart.
Lay them all down on the stable,
Even ground of equanimity,
Where neither fear nor desire can tilt the earth.
Have you failed?
If so,
Fail wholeheartedly,
Lose much and often,
Make it a daily practice to say goodbye,
Knowing there's no place in the universe where finality can be found.
Don't take a single step back,
Don't spend a lifetime shielding yourself from what you feel,
Be relentless in your pursuit to uncover the unwanted in you,
For once it is held,
It has no hold on you.
So you fear madness,
We are all stuck raving,
Only those who have the awareness to see how lost our minds have become remain sane.
Are you worried something is wrong with you?
What standard of normality are you comparing yourself with,
And is the very idea that there is a normal what's limiting our world?
Don't whisper to yourself another narrative about why this will always be this way or how you'll never get there.
Who said you had to get it right?
Have you not learned about perfection from those who deny vulnerability in themselves?
What mistaken image of bravery do you hold against yourself?
What vision do you hold of a right path that renders all other paths wrong?
How can any wrong turn take you away from yourself?
So you can't find God in all of this,
Perhaps what you're calling God is not something separate from reality,
But reality itself,
Too vast for the mind to contain but intimately present in every breath,
Every tree,
Every moment of your existence.
How can you possibly love without inviting the risk of hurt?
Love is not safe,
It is ferocious and fervent and will dig up everything inside of you that you do not want to see.
Do not choose love if you'd rather avoid pain.
Choose love if you want to see clearly the primordial power that created life in yourself.
So what if someone else is further ahead?
We are all at equal distance from distraction and forgetfulness.
So what if you don't have it all figured out?
Certainty is the death of mystery.
So sing out your doubts and questions,
Don't hide them in the illusion of some control.
So what if you feel too old?
Locate age for me in your body and I'll show you nature's wisdom,
Not its limitation.
When all of this self-judgement no longer stands in your way,
When all your reasons for why life is a problem to be solved are dropped,
What remains?
Is it not simply this?
This aliveness,
This quiet and unspoken knowingness that you are here?
That you are not only whole but that you could never have been broken,
Only seemingly lose presence to a thought?
What becomes of a life that is allowed to endlessly give without being lesser for its generosity?
What becomes of silence when it is no longer feared?
What becomes of death when it is no longer an ending?
What becomes of emotions when they are no longer withheld from the body's natural ability to let go?
What becomes of disappointment when it's not plastered with spiritual judgement?
What becomes of an illness when it's not seen as a failure?
What becomes of this moment when it is no longer used as a means to get you somewhere else?
What becomes of pursuit when it is no longer for the gain of happiness?
And thoughts when they are no longer confined to the purpose of problem solving?
What remains?
A life that is felt,
Untethered from the moors of thought and deeply present.
A life flowing with unspeakable ease.
