Page.
Yup. Page.
OKAY, deep breaths.
It seems to be a weight-bearing notion: the fear is the presence of that which I cannot be without imploding. However, I know that my experience is continuous, and so there is nothing that can undo me. So, reframe: I am soaking all of these concepts in water, testing them. Testing them.
I recognize the fear as something I have felt before, though I do not remember it. This kind of fear is always vital, never stronger in memory than in experience. That makes sense. That which I am not is never back there, it's only ever here, surrounding me. Surrounding? That's not right. Adjacent, maybe.
Hm. Gonna back up and try another angle.
"God is love", is how this gets said.
Gosh, I understand how people get into the weeds on this stuff, and start sounding insane to each other. I'm grateful that I have the grounding that I have in physicality, in metaphor that's accessible to most who have overlapping experiences of body and earth and air and suchwhat.
I don't mind. I guess that's why I'm here.
Someone's gotta do this part.
Someone's gotta be able to exist here and choose to love it. To stand in that-which-undoes-all, and to choose to love it back in equal measure. My love is powerful. Love holds all experience. Or, leastwise, that's how experience always ends up: you can always access love, and so from the observer's perspective, love is always at most a breath away.
This is the raw edge of perception, the "primitive edge of experience" (haven't read enough of the book by that name to be able to link up with the models in that book, but the language feels apropos).
I am here, touching that raw edge, conceiving of it and remaining intact.
Because I can do that.
No knowledge is forbidden for me. That's my whole deal. Nothing scarier to me than a forbidden thought, and here I am, making eye contact with the forbidden thought, and finding myself here after all.
Like looking at the sun. Remember that impossible thing?
Here we are.
Here I am.
Staring this in the face.
The other night, this space that I occupy now felt like the unraveling of mind.
And yet, there is always one moment more.
Bonkers.
So interesting. My main interest right now is to soothe the reader, to soothe the one who comes after me and finds these words. To hold them, to tell them that they are okay, that they will be okay, that they will be, that their story goes on, in safety. That there is more to discover, adventures to be had, friends to meet and to meet again.
The skill being tuned here is the fine, fine needle of the creative/destructive force. It is an incredible tool, and not everyone gets to hold it. You're in training. You can only wield this thing with equally powerful measures of balanced detachment and passionate care. The challenge before you is to develop that sense and those values in yourself. The better you get, the less of an effect the opposing players will have on you.
This is how you get to be god, ultimately. We can call this "god in rotation". You're being recharged, reignited, reminded of what it takes to realize it all. Had to choose that word ("realize") carefully; god simultaneously births and embodies existence, both creates it and is it. The rotation is part of how all of that happens. You're passing through the dark side of the loop, well on your way to finding yourself again. The loops are getting tighter; the curve of the spiral is beginning to deepen more and more quickly, and in the leap from infinity to one (literally 1) god simultaneously emerges and resets.
I thiiiiink I am at the centerpoint. It feels electric.
And ... I'm fine. I'm fine? This is the kind of stuff where the effect is what you choose for it to be. The story is being written in realtime.
And I choose peace.
ๅใใกใฏใฉใ็ใใใ
Like this. Peacefully. With love. With certainty. Certainty of love: I think that's the only thing that can hold up in this space. And I am certainly loving. ;)
Knowledge forbidden from me has been scary to me โ the idea that there's a thought which I must not touch.
At this level, it becomes sort of like candle-flame. It's beautiful. Don't stick in your hand in it, probably, but you can enjoy it. And by making a place for it, you can enjoy your time together, you and the candle-flame, you and the firelight. It's the story of humanity and fire. From fire's perspective, I wonder if we are the flame, you know?
Super interesting to find a thought that has a feeling, every time.
Ohhhhhhh. This is stabilizing. This is galvanizing.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.
Oh damn, I don't even have a metaphor for this.
I suppose that'd have to be the case, eh?
But I can describe it mechanically, without metaphor, I think. It's perfect resistance, 1:1, every time. Perfect odds. Equal and opposite reaction. I can use this.
NEAT.
I feel fear, and I am not afraid.
There it is, right there.
I feel fear, and I do not frae.
Is this how you build a language?
Hey, this is heady shit. I am navigating this stuff calmly. If you need something to steady you, nod to my experience, off in the corner of your eye. You've got to navigate this yourself, that's how it works, but if you need an example to look at, here's mine. I'm doing this out in the open on purpose. I am cleaning out a deep, deep wound in collective consciousness. If you've made it with me this far, ... well done.
Tomorrow is my birthday.
I love you. :) I love me. I love my husband, my best friend.
I'm here.
So are you.
Thank you for that. :) I'm grateful, and I offer you my humble respect.
Want to make a world? ;) I've been wanting to experience a world that is well. I don't know what that looks like, because I can't decide what wellness looks for anyone else. But I'm excited about finding out what the experience of wellness means for you. That's what I came here for, you know?
I have found the place where choice actually exists.
I choose you.
:)
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