The Joke of Receiving One Spectrum As Holism Reality

How many times must some be burned before that which is inextricable is witnessed for what it is? Yet in that end, I remembered I was ocean and ice too, and I found myself drowning and cooling.

In the ceaseless relentlessness in our times, in a long arc sense, whether left or right in side making and bullying’s, whether foreign to one’s heart ecology or domestic, some convinced my own distinct gifts and strengths could be nothing more than ignorance or shadows themselves for multitudes of reasons that are not mine to lay out, taking it upon themselves to ensure shadows then would consciously be ruthlessly circling me, what they would be for them, rather, if my very path became theirs to walk instead, I learned what it was to be reduced to but one drop of blood.

The very things some hated sensing in me without me ever much even saying it, became the very things that propelled and in part made me the force I am becoming. Fools of creational makings of their own. Time and again. A lesson I learned way back when. I think a lot of humans would be insanely humbled if they understood how it is we as humans participate with consciousness and creation.

I think I needed to experience this for stories that I am so very far away from relaying. I learned who I was in cosmic and earthly ways, which is to say where harmony between earth and sky arise together in vivid clarity interiorly. In ways that many on this side of the pond would never be so blessed to sense into with such precision. So disconnected, out of touch, severed, fearful, avoidant, or distorted are the many.

Not everlasting ash and burial ground. I found what could not be similarly burned out of humans and why thousands of years of such making have ultimately fallen short. Will ever fall short. In doing so, I gave freely the ocean parts of me that I outgrew with my own volition by choosing to love and look around much at all.

I found where reducibility falls short and flattens. I found where clarity from out of seemingly unsortable complexity becomes self-evident and obvious. Where further severings reveal themselves for what they are. Where one learns the difference between burning and drownings and what it all means. Where one has the burden to choose between such openings.

It doesn’t even matter if no doorway opens. And certainly not immediately. The long arc will show but cruelty if integrity is your reality. It then becomes all glorious really. I hope you see those who are gift to you amidst and against any storm or any odds.

Not all love is meant to be for everyone. Not all love is meant to be understood by everyone. In that some speak a language I hear, as it is for much of any, means things unspeakable for me. For the time being at least.

I see, and yet I navigate the world, as it is before me still. There is no rush in that those I love know I love them. Will know I love them if ever they find me. Those that love or will love me know it, or will at least. I’ve never been one for whom those I love do not know that I love them. Not really. Shy of their own insecurities.

It’s lovely really. It needn’t even the approval of anything outside of individuals. Blessed are those who transcend smallness making. Who heal against all odds and against all untruths of obvious natures.

It doesn’t matter if others don’t much care for us at all. We are each still a part of it all. The world at large. We are inseparable from it all even if others need to feel separated from us. Sometimes distance is the necessary medicine. I have certainly known this. Thus, I know it has its rightful and truthful part as well.

Growth in one area for one is retraction for another and sometimes vice versa. It’s complicated business. Consciousness. The whole of the universe is in me. As it too is in you. Albeit, in your own relational way, differently.

After a lifetime submersed in the wilds of nature and the unknown, my growth is towards remembering celestial existence and thresholds. Wholly unmediated. Sensing those who sense, said or unsaid, secrets between day and night. And understand just enough to know to never explain out in clear language such things.

I may not have anyone much around me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel love meeting me still. To the chagrin of those who labored to interfere much of anything not hateful meeting the likes of me. I have seen and endured more than most can comprehend.

To know irreducibility is to know one cannot be reduced to nothingness in ash. And a whole world of potential then becomes visible. In metaphor and metaphysically. Them not being entirely extricable.

The experience of the ocean being the great revealer of empathy. And now their persecutions and fires that could be, speak more of them. I let love burn that which was false out of me and away from me, but love that too knew already who I was. Love that loved me just as I was.

If the prior is all the collective love is now being made to be, love that believes it needs to break down and change everybody, burning any without whim or remorse until desperation and pleading for universal inclusion and conforming meets them, then so be it. Now their fires cannot even thaw my heart to them. Their fires are small and petty. Perhaps pleas to feel it for themselves subconsciously.

Though it means not my heart to be heartless. Just not made for those who need to cultivate heartfulness or coldness in erasive ways. Their inspirations do not move me. In distancing myself from pretty much everybody, I have let go entirely.