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HINDER CALLED HELP – BREAKING BORN.

HINDER CALLED HELP – BREAKING BORN.

What when we strip it all away.
Working with no payment in sight.
Unconditionally sharing creation for passions wake.
Righteousness washed away.
What when we let go that old fairytale that others need us.
Knowing the truth, it is they whom need themselves.
Everyone is exactly where they need to be.
The universe guides all, not our ego self.
When we let go of our hidden trauma tendencies.
Lay our desperate helping hands on another shelf.
Our own dormant yet revolving health.
Fixing our mighty old reflection in the form of another, calling it help.
A need to assist a humanity who is far from broken.
To feel needed, wanted, good in a world – let us crack this fallacy open.
What when we admit our polarization causes pain not peace.
Attracts disaster, poverty, shame.
What if we lose our validation.
Our right to claim.
What is left.
Who are you.
Who remains.
A selfless act, a surrender to God.
God your highest self.
Whom sees everything is in perfect order.
Steps back into life’s creative corner.
Seen as selfish to others yet is this a service to all.
Had we been blindly fooled.
Mutters that they need you now more than ever.
Eyes see truth, go within rather than trying to “fix” another.
To glue together your perfect view.
What hope remains, in this old stale tale.
If we all committed to caring for ourselves.
What would our lives look like.
Would we be hidden on a shelf.
What if we stripped ourselves of everything we knew.
The absolute appeared.
Raw, awake, shaking, dripping with life.
No accolades in sight.
A true being of unconditional love.
A sight that shall blind.
Undeniably you.
Of pure life, love and truth.

Bec Hart.

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