On the Intense Experience of Being Our Selves
We spend most of our lives walking around as watered down versions of ourselves – tamped down, locked in somnambulists keeping safe distance from who we truly are.
At the crossroads, however, those rare occasions where our diluted existence intersects with our Magnificent Selves, and we are faced the intensity of who we are absent our filters, present and powerful and aware.
And it’s terrifying.
And in this moment, we are presented with a choice. Do we continue to cling to the familiar – muted, subdued and benumbed, or do we embrace our unfiltered and unfettered magnificence and take a chance that what lies ahead is far, far greater than what we fear to leave behind?
Our greatest fear is fear of how much love we are truly capable of.
What happens when we die? Pretty much the same thing that happens when we live. Death is life lived without time, and without time, there can be no memory. Those that have or are experiencing death cannot speak of it in terms the living could understand anymore than those experiencing living could explain it in terms that the dead can understand. And even if those who experience death could speak of it, how could they begin to explain? Have you ever asked anyone what happens when a person lives? What could they possibly say?
Our closest analog to death is dreams – events experienced absent time. That is why we never seem to be able to recall in completeness all that we dream. It is only because we are dreaming within a reality under the influence of time that we are able to carry their fragments with us at all. Everything in dreams happens out of sequence – it is only in recalling them that we assign them order.
To fear death is to fear life, for they are one in the same.
On Meaning and Honesty
In the age of campaign rhetoric extremism, Fox News, Sport Trolling, the Opinion=Fact mentality and the rise of a nouveau narcissism whose central tenet seems to be “I believe it so it’s true”, it is easy to forget that words are more that ink on a page or pixels on a screen – they actually mean things.
In forgetting that words mean things, it also follows that it’s easy to forget that there are people in this world that hold themselves and others accountable for the words they write and speak
Some mistake this for being vindictive – It is not. Some mistake this for being vengeful – it is not.
Some understand this to be the foundation of Honesty – it is.
To The Honest, Words mean things. They choose them wisely, use them carefully and rarely speak them unless they have something to say. The Honest do not use words to disguise, they use them to reveal.
And it is perhaps because of this that they so often find themselves greatly misunderstood and at odds with the world.
On The Wages of Sin, (Less Taxes and Fees)
The idea that we pay for our sins indicates to me that on some level they are things of worth and value. A commodity, a stock in trade…
I’d venture to say, then, that the devil is one wealthy dude…
But, really, why should he get to reap the soul rewards? Sins are defining…they tell us, on some level, who we are, what we want and how far we’re willing to go to get it.
I find myself hard pressed to think of that as an entirely bad thing.
If anything more, sin is a measure of risk. A willingness to challenge static and stagnant notions of the acceptable, which changes era to era. Sins are evolving, which is, when you think about it, really the whole point…
The Wages of Sin are Life, my friends. Anyone who says otherwise owes you a refund…