Love is an instinct, its primal. We’re born with it. To be afraid of it makes no difference, because it is elemental to the being. It compels us forward and holds us in connection to other, to the world ourselves and our higher purpose. Everywhere you look, you’ll see evidence of the nature of love, which is nurture. Nature is nurture. Love is in fact, the very essence of nature, your nature. So when you align yourself with nature, your true purpose, you will find yourself in love, from the very depth of you, in love, with all you see and what you see will be love.
Being the observer observing the observation is not passive. You as the observer, in that you are observing that which the mind conceives, changes the equation. Your filter, ego, Who Am I, mind, only sees what it has formulated as seeable. When Galileo asked the Medicis to look through the telescope, they couldn’t see the craters of the moon, because they had not made a mental construct of moon, or crater. Without the mind’s idea of lunar sighting, there was no moon! Understanding mind as mind is grasping the insidious nature of its need to control outcome. Seeable is not real. What you see is the notion of what mind has decided is able to be seen, see-able. Knowing that mind dictates what you see, allows you to have choice, giving you room for new sight, second sight, expansion and awareness of your unawareness. When you know you are…
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This life is not about being Loved. Its about being Love. You are here because you are enough. You are everything you need. Your worth is not based on how someone else Loves you, values you. You are all there is. Including and most importantly Love. Life is not about being Loved. Life is about being Love. You are Love. Be Love. Be Love. Make a difference. Be of service. Be Love.
Someone has to shovel this shit and use it as fertilizer (fertilizer, supporting that which is fertile) and because I can see the shit and see it as fertilizer, see the possibility (Bil’s possi, ready to lasso creation) nasturtium, chrysanthemums, baby’s breath, black-eyed susans, poppies, rosemary, lavender, sorrel, hyssop, succulents and jasmine growing, it might as well be me. But please, grab a shovel, dig in, let’s manifest together. The sweet scent of manure, that which yearns to be born, smells better when shared.
St. Francis of Assissi was genius, or crazy. His dad had him locked up. He escaped, running the ridge of the rooftop, singing to birds, talking a secret language to animals. Crazy? Singing praises to a universe of crows, magpies, escaped parrots, warblers, gophers, lizards, rattail racoons, horses, elephants, bear, and people too. Or genius. That he heard, responded, resonated with the energy of this immense and wondrous planet, the soul reflected back in the eyes of a cat, a weeping willow, the sun, moon, a touch of haze in the morning, a loved one, you. And why not? Why not celebrate that crazy? Ranting, dancing, delighting in this world, no head, only heart? Feeding the birds, your soul. Go ahead, be crazy. Be genius. Be love. Happy Valentines Day.
We codify, describe, format, file, explain, define and its gone. That which is, is. It can’t be compartmentalized, structured, named without losing essence. To experience, viscerally download moment by moment, beyond mind, explanation, willing to allow the ontological nature, vibration, perfect timing and revelation of life, we become present, tangible, the breath of this universe, which in its very being-ness, source, is love.
In order to find ‘who’ you are, ‘where’ you are, and most interestingly ‘what’ you are, you must go beyond the fear of, the lie of the mind. Only when you are situated in the unknown, the purposeful unknowing of ‘who’, ‘where’ and especially ‘what’, only in the forgetting to remember to define yourself, having separated, dis-identified from ego and mind to the extent of being completely void of identification: ‘who,’ ‘where,’ and ‘what,’ then all paradigm not only shifts, but vanishes. And in that absence, no thing, is all thing, wherein you rightfully discover ‘who,’ ‘where,’ and ‘what,’ does not exist, which is the true cognition of self. You are not definable. When you cease to exist as ‘who’, ‘where’ or ‘what’, you reside in being, you simply are, becoming fluid as air, changeable as energy, source, tangible, beyond all planes of…
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