Hey there Delilah
Hey there Delilah. Is your father God? Is your mother the earth? Is the land you walk upon the sacred sites that have been buried over all these years, over 150 years of false history. A phone rings and I wonder what, why?
I feel grateful and I remember that it’s all part of the material and here I am just weaving it all into coherence, into understanding, into something that is more known and recognizable for me.
I keep my eyes fixed in the sun and they help my retinas open up to more light, to more truth. There is something pulling me down, it tries to, on the right side of my arm, my body, and I am reminded of who I am and how I have come here to be. To swim and to swarm in all of my expressions and emanations of embodied light and love. I am reminded of what it means to be who I truly am. To cut someone? Who? There’s static and there’s noise and there’s clarity and the clarity is of the light. It’s the clear open channel and others may not understand, they may not know. It’s all a jumbled mess until it sorts its self out. Until all the dust settles from me muddying the water to find a new place to observe.
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When you do water, don’t think. We’re on each other’s team. Mag sideways 9. All the material. All part of it, random, don’t even think, and it all comes together. And it comes together. No reflection of the tress, no light in it, just light revealed.
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He told me not to venture off into the dark, and I’m reminded that I can’t fuck it up. Watch the horizon line, it’ll settle your sickness, it’ll settle the queasiness into relaxation. While hurtling forward. The internal is just as much the creation spot as is the information from the outside world. All one, it’s all one, yet don’t fret now for it’s nothing to run from. We’re just blending.
If death is what is coming, you need not run.
If death is coming, you need not run.
If death is here, allow it to wash you in wisdom and stillness and silence.
If death rings its bell, surrender it to the sun. Surrender it to the unknown. Surrender it all to the source.
You are the source and the source knows that you need not be attached and connected to anything other than the love, other than the love that you are, yet you will never ever fall away form that for this is who you are within your bones.
We could scratch it all, sweep it under the rug, and pretend that none of it is there, that none of it has happened. Will I die a happy death? Will I feel peace as I slip off into the void? What will it feel like to venture into that space of unknown.
I showered in the cold yet I didn’t stay long. When is it enough? When is it enough? For Spirit, for God to come in and through and guide.
To hold me.
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They followed me in the dream, wanting someone to guide them. I ran away, “to do my own thing” for i felt so entirely inexperienced enough to be a leader. I still had so many complicated thoughts, so many things conflicting within my being, so much noise and confusion and so I ran to try and find a way out if it. I still listened, deeply, yet in other ways I didn’t at all. Was it all catching up to me? Every time I was asked to pause and I pushed past it? Each instance, at least 5 or more within this individual entry.
And it’s just all a jumble jumble jumble, let me sink down, down down down to drown until the light comes in. what the fuck is it all for? Said without as much gusto as I needed for I am forging another’s pain into whatever the fuck this is. I woke up angry and I experienced how the spiral has gone up. How I truly am moving up, and nothing needs to be held back, nothing needs to be kept secret, yet sanctuary is a necessity. To honor. To know, to truly worship and to let go. To find and feel and experience the sacred within all things. My skin glows like that of a fairy as I type. Sparkle and magic all around and within me, I am waiting for a friend. A guide. Someone to rest my head upon yet I am strong as an ox and I keep my own head held high and I will for eternity. Reverent in the name of love. If death is coming, let it all go. Tears spring forth. And the waves move me, my whole being shifts. Im reminded, in order to care, in order to hold and to provide a space for others in need if they needed me. Not to shrink, not to fawn, not to pity but to say that I am here and you are not alone. And I know that it’s felt, yet we work in spaces of such sensitivity. We are bitterly built to help and to hold as people experience pain. The sensitive souls within us all are here as workers or light. The outer appearance is grief and hardship and swords and gruff meanness, yet underneath it all is kindness and care and sensitivity. There is true care here. There is love here, there is love all around me all the time. And I am the witness.
