fallen

The thing with pedastals
is that you are lifted there, erected high on a chair by the projected hopes
of a mind that wants to deny the laws of nature and inhabit an alternate reality,
with hopes for a grand escape whereby life is resolved sans effort, responsibility, integrity or confrontation;
hopes of a panacea delivered by someone else,
in a reality where the light exists without the dark,
and where the light itself shines sans challenge
—which of course it cannot be, not when it is born of knowing rooted into the deep damp earth,
when its strength is in its integration and holding of all things,
when its wisdom and penetrating knowledge is borne of the dark nights
—of having repeatedly fallen to the knees in despair and exhaustion and with no other way out, turned head and heart to the sky,
humbled and surrendered and assisted.

The thing with the pedastal
is that it is not just a height
and the gap is not something that you just passively fall down, when you fail to meet saviour expectations.

No. The cravass is somewhere you are dragged down, by hand over hand clawing at you, hands that want to pull you down to fall below their level, fall to crush your bones on the rocks at the bottom, so that you do not get up or show up or light up again. So that you are not just lesser, but broken.

The ordinary chair you were sitting on,
unwilling and unasked for elevated above the heads of those around you by their own delusions,
you do not just… lose your balance and fall off.
The chair is not just… placed back down once the crowded mentality realises the errors of its way.

No, once elevated, the only next step in this homogenised mental progression is that you will be violently dethroned, decrowned, exiled and shunned. The most prized possession to become the most scorned, punished, and meaningless… to be stepped over without a backward glance, on the way to some place far more important.

What is prized by a disempowered and fear-filled being, can only ever end up hated and devalued. And that devaluing will be irrationally justified too,

the unreasonable attention, adoration and infatuation to be matched only by its equal and opposite of closed hearted cruelty,

..the slap across the face to the servant that is kneeling
..the nailing to the cross of the heart that speaks truth
..the burning at the stake of the wombs that bring life.

Lest in your innocence you mistake the rules of this game, let me clarify. The harder you love and the more you give, the harder you will be beaten and the longer you will burn.

Punished for failing to alleviate or alter the fundamental requirements of growth and healing,
for the inability to bring wholeness to a passive being without their participation,
for being unable to take them back to the beginning to make everything inside them alright,
for being unable to unstitch the fabric of reality so that it is simple and easier,
for the inability to remove the mind, ego and fear that tortures them, even though it is of their own creation
—but not leaving the dysfunction untouched in the dark, either.
Where the wounds are preferred left covered and glossed over,
where the desire is to be past it without having gone through it,
and the light of your presence will instead unwrap it all…

The only endpoint is to be irrationally punished.
Held responsible for everything…
by the ones who are responsible for nothing.

Mind the gap

gnawing

This pit in my belly
in response to your walls
Erected overnight,
decorated with fingers pointed at my back
Accusing, persecuted, guilted

Like you, like they, think I should apologise

I won’t apologise.
I won’t, relentlessly

I won’t apologise for the power in my belly that shakes you

I won’t apologise for your mental discomfort at me having stretched you to fill yourself

I won’t apologise for how brightly I shine, for how intensively I loved you, now that you want to punish, in order to escape, rather than rise to meet me
and your fear of yourself

I won’t apologise for shaking you awake, for dragging you back to yourself… forcefully

I won’t apologise for you having folded yourself, as if I did anything other than beckon for you to join me, in the great expanse.
And I won’t apologise for refusing to fold too

I won’t apologise for the fear running through you, for the trembling in your gardens left disowned and untended

I won’t apologise for my fierce heart and it’s wild knowing, for seeing into and through you, every lie you ever told yourself

I’m not perfect
but if I kneel and bow to you in service
only to be slapped across the face
by you and your mind that thinks it knows
Refusing to let go, served and carried
Holding the stinging heat of your hand mark, watching
your fears self-validated and held sacred
running through your being like late night conversations
watching, accepting you will likely pass…
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and cry, but not all of your tears..
I’m not the one who has condemned you to that, so I won’t apologise.

If I love you back into yourself, and you refuse to accept what you find when you get there…

This is humanity, this is your mind, this is your shadow. It’s ugly and often unbearable, but it’s

Not. My. Fault.

what do

At any given point when you ask
“But what do I do while I wait?”, “But how can I handle this?”, “But he/they/are doing abc-”

When you are tired or stressed or uneasy or lost
When you don’t know what to do next
When you are exhausted or nervous or terrified
If you are tangled or ensnared or drowning
When you can’t possibly..

The answer is always the same.

This is one thing, THE one thing, you don’t have to worry about, you don’t have to double check—

This is the home base, the solid ground to come back to. The anchor the holds the ship regardless of the weather. The lighthouse. The forest clearing. The sustaining spring—

The answer is to activate your hands and feet and heart
..to drop out and let go through your base
..to let in through your hands
And to relax your chest and open your heart.

…To breathe deep and move your lungs
…To anchor to the earth and the sky, right way up
and let life move through you
…To surrender yourself to the force that aligns and moves you—

That is what to do.

Regardless of what is in front of you
Regardless of who is doing or being how
Regardless of where you’re trying to get to
Regardless of the unfathomable

Breathe your prana.

If it hurts like you feel like you will die,
If it seems like the night will never end,
If the damage seems beyond repair,

The answer is still the same.

Sit in the centre, hold the heart
Move through the hands and feet…
and Breathe. (inhala, exhala)

This is the one thing you can always do—
and the one and only thing you need to do.