She is not me as I understand myself to be. She is me as I have yet to understand myself to be. She is motivated to move me through myself, and for no other reason does she speak.
‘Don’t be fooled by what seems to be. Don’t be blinded by your need to know … do not feed the feeling of envy for the ‘if only ifs’ … if only this, if only that … listen with open eyes and see with open ears to these fractured voices and parts of you. Let your dear breathing vessel be engulfed by the truth.’
The whispering comes from a place which comes and goes; has come and gone ad infinitum. Within the first memory and within the ‘last’. The whole sequence, played many times over, in order and out of order, changes as often as my perspective and understanding does.
The whispering of what has been, punctuated so confidently in time, like a period at the end of a mind-blowing line, in a song that you hope never ends, includes both the past and the future … what ‘has been’ is a matter of perspective.
Beings and versions of us who are calling out to be heard, no matter how small the sound might feel, amid the noise of it all … calling out for someone to notice … to hear and listen and respond, with simple kindness. To interrupt the rude, and to stop the ride, and to pause on the timeline.
Feedback tells me that the inheritance of ability and power to write better code will not be revealed until ‘bad conditioned behaviour’ has been abandoned. It’s like an archetypal/archeological dig into DNA; into the code itself.
If we realize that we don’t really ‘create destiny’ (which, let’s face it, is a HUGE and scary thing to have to undertake), rather, we choose what ‘destiny’ we tune into – one that already exists among an infinite number of possibilities – we dismantle fear, doubt and anger.
And in the very real forgotten but never forgotten realm of right now, there is a battle going on, and there always has been. And it’s not for ‘things’, it’s to govern the mind/ment, and we won’t win a thing if we don’t raise the vibration here.
Even when the truth crushed me, like ever-creeping walls, closing in like some Indiana Jones scenario, and me without my party, and an invisible quiver I couldn’t even see, of arrows with fire that had burned out long ago, and my only shield was my ability to be scarier than than the fears I faced.
I have learned that if I don’t constantly, compassionately and patiently apply better standards, by forgiving those parts of me that had me convinced that I was not designed for more – like when I feel sorry for myself that I cannot join my fellow cardio level uppers – then wubbalubbadubdub…watch