I feel a greater capacity coming for me. To reach further. Penetrate deeper into the collective consciousness and undo conditioning. I feel this capacity particularly in the form of writing. But write what, write where. This, I don’t know. In a way, I don’t think it matters where I write, just that I write. In my journal, to a friend, on a public forum, on the pavement. I write for purpose and pleasure both. I am always writing to you, I am often writing as you. The universe reads and writes here.
The true purpose and pleasure of my writing can go unseen and unmet by human interaction. But no matter what, you always receive me. In the moment of writing, I am fully met by you. Satisfied, purposeful, pleasureful and powerful with you. As you. Perhaps I am impatient with humans and with my own limited self. I remember a while ago you told me of your infinite patience and recently I have smiled as I thought about this. As I recognised my own sense of spaciousness around what feels seemingly out of alignment with truth. In me and in the world. A sense that I don’t need anything to be different, yet there is still a gentle, curious, loving movement towards alignment. At others times it is not so gentle. Sometimes I feel to cut apart the shit and use the force of my love to rock the boat. To stand on the stern with the sword and the flame and shout out “it is really not that fucking hard people!?”. Yes, I have a strong urge to wake people out of illusion. To show them another perspective. To show them another worldview. One that nourishes and strengthens instead of diminishes. One that is peaceful and restful and easy. But many don’t want to hear it. Many can’t hear it even when they try. Some people are ready in their hearts but their heads are not on board. Some people are ready in their heads but their body is jumping ship. We are truly ready when our whole beings are in alignment. When we listen and stay present with our whole selves. Then the truth simply resonates, lands and integrates in the moment. But by that point, we are already free. To get there, we seem to need to take small doses of truth. Homeopathically. Drop by drop. Whatever our capacity for receiving is, we let it in. We never know when our treatment will be complete, until it is. When we can see and accept everything as it is. When we embody this Infinite Patience.
In this present moment, I am curious about what is next. Both for Liz individually and humans collectively. How do we create a future based in the present moment? Perhaps and of course it just creates itself. Out of the present moment, the future simply emerges. My choices right now in this moment create my future self and landscape. So I make wise choices. I write. I write. I write. It helps me to stay with my greatest unknowing. Time disintegrates. Now becomes the future… or something like that. This is my deep curiosity. And all of a sudden as I write, there becomes an even stronger imperative and motivation to do a fucking good job of all that. Whatever that is.
Thank you universe, for this privilege of being alive and giving me the chance to find out.
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