Essays

The Perfect Configuration (An Essay)

you are

have always been

and always will be

in the perfect configuration

and

it is your misplaced desire

to be elsewhere

to have things

yourself

and others

be anything other than what they / you are

that perpetuates the illusion that something is wrong

that something needs fixing

which you would know is not the case

if you just stayed HOME

in the only place that’s true

while all that’s here for you

keeps landing at your feet

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Your Next Move Pops Through (An Essay)

You don’t need to figure out what’s next.

Life tells you.

Your being tells you.

So just go where you’re led like you’ve been doing all along.

The ‘next’ organic / inevitable direction will naturally bubble up through living in the current configuration.

As it always has.

As it always will.

Nothing to aim for.

Plan for.

Create in your mind.

What is custom-made for you just can’t help but pop through.

As you seamlessly move from one scene to the next.

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Clean vs Muddy Moves (An Essay)

unless and until a move is crisp and clean

stripped of a reaction

an agenda

or another person in mind

stripped of the need (and all the words)

to explain

to justify

to prove

to get

to build a bridge where none is required

to soften or avoid the razor’s edge of truth

until you reach that specific point

the zero point

where nothing matters at all

the power and impact of that move is diluted and effectively made limp

turning it into yet another messy bit amongst other messy bits

blending in

not standing out

so what’s the fucking point?

that trying-but-not-hitting-the-spot move

that tainted / muddy / laced-with-matter move

that spilling-over-because-you-have-collapsed move

won’t do a damn thing except keep that mess in place

because a weak and sloppy move is not sharp enough

it’s not potent enough

and it certainly can’t be felt deeply enough

to rattle

to collapse

to erect what needs erecting

it can’t pierce the veil

like a clean move can

a move that’s made

because it’s true

not for anyone

or anything

else

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Effortless Hard Work (An Essay)

if it was easy to truly be yourself

to move as freely and as naturally as you did when you were a child

before a lifetime of conditioning determined your moves

then everyone would be doing it

but they’re not

because it actually takes effort to live in integrity

which is crazy because it takes no effort to be yourself

it’s the most natural thing in the world

but to contend with all the illusory add ons you created along the way in lieu of being you

while in a family and in a world you chose to shrink yourself for

THAT is the hardest work there is

until

of course

it’s not

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Living An Endless Shroom Trip (An Essay)

When I spend money while being free of matter, I don’t feel like I have less money than I did before I spent it because energetically nothing has changed.

I just went from one move to the next in the physical but the move itself isn’t felt internally (distinguished from the previous or the next) because there was no matter.

It was just another moment on a cloud.

Energetically, I’m not even making a move.

I’m just being me.

The money / move itself is irrelevant.

An illusory transaction.

Of course that’s not how it looks or feels in the world of matter.

It doesn’t make it less true.

It’s never about the details of a move.

It’s about honouring the truth.

It’s about floating through space with as little obstruction as possible as you seamlessly dance from one moment and (non) movement to the next.

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Smudge On The Eyes (An Essay)

when there is smudge on the eyes

a distorted lens that discolours everything

one cannot see themselves

situations

or others

as they truly are

and…

in order to cope with that misperception of self

of the illusory other

of what is actually going on

(and the discomfort that arises from a truth one cannot own)

one projects what’s false

and deflects what’s true

effectively ‘protecting’ the illusion

while convinced it’s truth

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Cleaning The Inner And The Outer (An Essay)

internal and external cleaning

is a constant refinement

an endless clearing

a seamless dance with matter

and there’s always a sigh of pleasure as i take in what i’ve created

experiencing this ‘new’ space for the very first time

feeling so much lighter and lovelier than when i visited last

more pure

more ME

stripped even further of debris

it’s a forever job

tending to one’s inner and outer home

or rather a living work of art

each stage

a masterpiece

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The Illusion Of A Purpose (An Essay)

In a call the other day, the fellow was talking about not having a purpose aka a made-up concept to attach himself to.

You know, to give himself / his life some direction, some meaning, some much needed motivation.

Something he can create an identity around.

Something to make him feel more ‘like a man’.

Because being exactly who he is and following his natural movements on the daily isn’t enough.

There needs to be an add on.

Something quantifiable.

Something more / other than this.

I told him I don’t have a purpose.

He said it’s different for men.

I found that amusing.

Mostly because he just put us both in a separate category based solely on physicality (ignoring the energy aka the truth which would completely disprove his point if we really were talking about the masculine and feminine) to explain why I’m fine not having a purpose and he’s not.

It’s not because I’m a woman.

It’s because I’m not attached to bullshit.

Regardless of gender, regardless of conditioning based on gender, an illusion is still an illusion.

Purpose (or lack of), like self-worth (or lack of), like value (or lack of), like countless other things that aren’t actually real, is just a human-made concept to attach to and create a story around.

Something to hold on to, to point to as the reason you feel the way you do, or do the things you do you think you should do.

Something to avoid being the living truth.

Which comes with no labels.

No terms.

No concepts.

No thing.

Your ‘purpose’ is to BE yourself,

unobstructed,

if there had to be a thing.

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You're Asking The Wrong Question (An Essay)

It's not: "How do I get the clients / make the money / overcome the addiction / heal the pain / resolve this health and / or relationship 'issue'?"

It's: "When will I stop saying YES to a NO? When will I stop supressing what's true? When will I make being the living truth my full-time job regardless of who or what is in front of me?"

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You Can't Waste Time Or Money (An Essay)

You can’t waste money.

Just like you can’t waste time.

Because neither exist, ultimately, in the land of energy.

In the world of matter, however, money and time seem very real.

Quite valuable, in fact.

And both matter a helluva lot.

How you spend and save them is what it’s all about.

Always running out, it seems.

If they both stopped being tallied though,

oh, what glorious fun it would be.

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I'm Like Shrooms For Your System (An Essay)

working with me is like being bathed in sunshine, sparkles and rainbows

while riding a unicorn in a parade of flying kitties

and simultaneously getting an upper cut, throat punch and / or kick to the gut

and if you’re really ready to rock and roll (on the very cusp of IT)

you’re also getting thrown off the unicorn

being submerged in water

and getting kissed on the forehead

when you decide to pop back up

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