Gone now are the illusions of the past that we promised our future.
The destruction of the dream, as we lose ourselves in the emptiness of unworthiness yet it is not held in ourselves as it may seem. This merely an illusion of looking outside of ourself for all that we are.
The separation and division of alternate realms, hierarchy, teachers, masters, history, religion – all labels.
We are the consciousness, the unity and the uniqueness we desperately try and fail yet seek.
Creativity is in the flow, moment, spontaneity, the deliverance of the unknown. It is not held in the constant repitition to obtain a flat, perfectionists view of aliveness and art.
As are all emotions, each one lively, screaming out, wanting to be nurtured, held, seen and not transcended or denied. There’s life in all parts, why deny yourself, your truth.
The insanity of holding onto and seeking happiness in a flat, old, stale piece of bread that was never yours to eat as you’re allergic to gluten.
I am not a machine to succumb to societies wants, needs, desires so why is it that I roll out work like a printer that has an endless supply of ink.
Nor do I need to seek the real me, my purpose, money, the answers or enlightenment. For it is in acceptance that we realise that we have and are all we ever needed.
Mother Earth, she just asks you accept yourself so that we rise together, she doesn’t need healing or fixing, just acceptance, love, nurturing and respect.
I am a work of art that shapeshifts as the waves of the sea. Not a game in which I or someone else plays to figure out me.
Take me or leave me, I am as true as can be. Messy, free and undeniably me.
In this I see that I hadn’t been living, I’d been seeking and running from the unmasked, beautiful, raw, naked, wholesome, alive, vessel that is me.
For life is not in lived, it is in living.
Only in the acceptance of self, others and life itself in each unplanned, raw, unknown given moment, can this be.
For if we always seek we shall never find.