The Acquainted Heart



“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”~ Anita Desai

I’m often reminded of the places I’ve lived, visited. I revisit them in my mind, through the stories they’ve written upon my life and the experience they’ve imparted in my heart.

I can’t help but to think how a certain place leaves its mark upon the heart and mind. Subtle beauty, nuance, the smell of the air and the taste of the wind, good times, bad times, pain, loss, joy and ecstasy. These all breathe drops of life into a soul, my soul; touching me and allowing my growth. No matter how far from these places I roam, they remain familiar, forming my gestalt; my dynamic. Here in this sphere of the intimate, I become acquainted with my soul.

These places are never forgotten, no matter how far we travel from them. Whether they’ve written good stories or bad, we all take them with us in our book of life; etched upon the stone of the mind, and forever burned into our hearts

I can vividly recall growing up in the plains of Oklahoma, near the rolling hills of the east. The green lands were all around me and I was their intrepid explorer. Numerous streams, ponds and large creeks were always a part of my backyard. They gave me my first glance at the natural world, though most of them have been hidden under concrete now, or overgrown; covered with time. The great Arkansas River we crossed often, high above the current formed sandbars that showed its force. This place was my kingdom for many years.

I then remember when I placed my eyes on the Gulf of Mexico for the first time, the Mississippi sound. I recall easily the smell of salt and brine in the air; the smell of shrimp and spiced crab boil. The live oaks lurched high above the beachfront, hanging their hearty branches low; covering the lavish azalea laden grounds of nearby antebellum homes. The Spanish moss hung from these large, hearty Oak boughs, drooping to the ground, waving in the wind among the scent of Magnolia blossoms. This land I explored for many years, and though scarred from Katrina, it still waives a friendly hello every time I return.

I recall the many places I’ve traveled. Too many to name, but none ever forgotten.

I recall my feet, touching for the first time the cold waters of the Pacific along the Oregon and California coast; the smell of the Manzanita trees; the crisp morning air of San Diego and the song of its resident parrots.

I remember the humid air along the coast of North and South Carolina, its southern charm just as welcoming, just as familiar as that of home; wherever home is.

I still feel the heat of the high desert plateau and my many travels to Arizona and New Mexico; the scent of the juniper wood as it burns under blankets of stars, chilled by the high desert winds. My love for these places is never waning, never dulled. These images hang in special places; my hall pictures; the decorations of my heart and mind.

I miss many places often as well.

I miss the cold nights of Upstate New York, the white blanket of constant snow, and the great rift; the Milky Way, that massive, blurred cloud of stars that I could see from my porch every night. I miss the St. Regis River that flowed behind our home and the fields of dandelion that sprang forth in the spring.

I miss the stench of New Orleans, the French Quarter and the garden district. I miss the bumpy roads; the street fairing precession of tourists and locals along St. Charles Avenue. I miss the Tickfaw River of Southeastern Louisiana; the brackish bayous and salt laden lakes; the Ponchatoula strawberry festival and all the unique folk that make the south home.

Yesterday I sat with a new view, near the base of Pike’s Peak. Red Mountain stood proudly outside my window. I dwelt among the soda springs, a place where the natives of centuries past came to refresh and replenish their weary, traveled bodies. I sat among a mound of history, rich in culture and steeped in mystery.

No matter where I’ve been. This is where I am, now. Here. No matter where, all of these places are a part of me, my gestalt; my sphere of the intimate.

In our lives we travel far, we live fast and we rarely look back. We should all take the time to reflect on the places we’ve visited, to reacquire the harmony of these lands as they’ve been given gracefully to us as gifts of life. Our home is all around, and it should be loved, remembered and cherished.

Go forth and discover your backyard. Take in more than just the view… Remember your homes, your visits and your loves of past days, and sit in peace with life. Enjoy your intimate sphere, your acquainted soul.

These places and these experiences are the decorations of our hearts, and when placed upon the wall of the mind they will remain engrained in the soul; forever a part of our time here.

Eight Billion.. and One


People are more connected to each other than they could possibly imagine.

According to people who count the heads on this sphere, apparently over eight billion human beings–people–are living and breathing, waking and feeling, suffering and loving on this little blue sphere of ours; billions of sentient creatures all scurrying about, staking their claims on the world and in life. With these billions of souls comes not only billions, but trillions of thoughts and ideas.

Where do these thoughts come from, from what mystic well do they spring? From within? From above? Perhaps from beyond that which lives even further beyond the boundaries of human thought, comprehension and reason?

This seems worthy of exploration.

It amazes me to know that I can create, that everyone can create. We are all creators, innately divine yet not realized; all a part of the grandness of the universe. We are created to create, to learn and feel harmony, love, anger, hardship and all other sensations which breath life into an otherwise inanimate sack of flesh. We are eight billion creators, intertwined with one another, yet this remains unknown, unrealized by far too many.

We should strive to think with the heart, with love; to feel and bless our world and each other by making it more beautiful, by harmonizing with all life.

Of all thoughts swirling around, above the firmament, what is a thought without action? What is action without being? Life begins before thoughts are known, so it begs to question where thought originates.

Perhaps, born into us are our own personal thoughts. Perhaps these thoughts find us on their own. Perhaps all thought is known, known by all yet unrealized, shared by all eight billion souls; just one soul fragmented, thinking one thought, fragmented. We may just be a fractal of one, a sliver of divinity.

Thought solves riddles and saves lives. It creates new and useful tools, games and art. Thought generates the world; a silent engine of sentient life. Thought may be truly born as we are born, and live longer than any of our finite minds and bodies could imagine. Thought is powerful. It is truth, it is lies, it is our world; our conscious and waking perception of reality. Thought manifests, and creates.

What if all eight billion had the same thought, at exactly the same moment? Imagine this:

A resounding bell of thought ringing in unison in all hearts and minds; one of consciousness and compassion, shifting our paradigm to new heights, to a new definition of living; living for love and love alone. The only thought and the only reality being absolute, pure, unconditional love. This thought would change the world forever.

For now, as time moves in its illusory way, thought remains. It was there before time, and exists forever in unison with eight billion souls. It will remain and prevail, forever as the soul does.

Know there is One. Know there are Many.

Marcus Aurelius once said, “The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”  Let’s take this in…

In the end there is the one thought. One soul, one fractal, one sliver. One singularity of eight billion thoughts.



Best Week Ever


“You don’t really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around — and why his parents will always wave back.” ~ William D. Tammeus

People are capable of so much, and yet.. so much goes unsaid, unheard or unrealized. We are capable of such greatness, only if we live above our hearts and proceed with good intention. We are capable of such love, and only every great once in a while does a moment come along to make you see and feel just how great that love is; how powerful it is, and how we cannot live without it.

Nothing exists in the world that is greater than love. In particular, nothing can measure a child’s love for his mother or father, and the same can be said of a mother or father’s love for their children. This is a simple realization for many parents, but sometimes this love is felt beyond the heart; in a place where eternal bonds are forged.

Sometimes this love is shown in a smile, in an embrace, or just in the gleam of the eye. And for those of us who know the pain of being away from our loved ones for long periods of time, saying hello and goodbye brings both the joy and pain of love all at once, in a fraction of a moment; like a sledgehammer to the chest. It is a sensation, without doubt that pulls at the heart, wrenches the mind and changes our lives each and every time.

I recently spent the best week of my life with my daughter. It was a long week, including a 2600 mile road trip, time spent well with laughter, conversation, late nights and early mornings. We saw sights, talked endlessly, made plans for the future, and hugged each other more than I could possibly count. We had eyes and smiles on us from across many rooms, whether it be at a gas station or sitting in a diner waiting on a meal. People noticed us, and smiled. She was complimented many times by several people, as was I.

Perhaps it was the joy we exuded by simply being together, maybe it was an energy, maybe it was the way my daughter braided her hair. No matter, it was there and it was noticeable. The whole week was spent this way, and I can safely say that not a moment of this precious time was wasted. But, as all good things seem to go.. it was eventually time to say goodbye.

We could embrace each other for eternity, as time is always still in these moments; these moments where the lucidity of the situation becomes very real. As people grow, as time tears away at the fabric of age, it always remains.. When two beating hearts share the same pure, unconditional love for each other, the universe seems to stop. Motion is mute, and silence becomes louder.

Saying goodbye for us is never easy. It is filled with raw emotion, a choked throat, tears and the trembling of a last embrace. It is in this moment where the truth can be found; where love is felt and leaves its mark upon the heart and mind. For me, it is in the first embrace and the last that I feel the most alive, the most rewarded, and the most loved.

We must all seek out these moments, and realize the truth that they bring to us. To feel such love is a blessing, and is the greatest gift of all in this gorgeous world. I thank God and the universe for the gift of such a beautiful loving daughter. For if not for her, my life would never be..



Image“…and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment…” ~ Plato, The Symposium

Kismet, or Kismat.. The origin of this word falls well into ancient times. Fate, destiny, starcrossed, twin flames, soul mates.. these words are all used to describe a multitude of happenings that we cannot understand at the time; but only feel with our purest heart. What draws us to another soul, to a place, to a life altering decision, to a time of change sweetened by bliss? The power of Kismat; a predetermined collision of life, love, being and powerful happenings is written beyond time, beyond ages.. written upon the soul to travel with forever. Here in the sphere of Kismat, we explore our soul; our true reflections and those that complement our earthly lives.

What is this feeling that propels us? What is this universal magnet that throws us about chaotically, yet with well devised purpose and precision brings us to our most beautiful places in life? Where does this connection begin, where does it emanate from? What divine source is behind the curtain of life, moving hearts and minds, pairing souls together in love and harmony? The surge of life within that we feel to be Kismat, it is our own choice.. made of pure light from a timeless view above all awareness; made long ago.

Some go through life never acknowledging the simple truth that a connection is present between all things, all souls. But some do realize this, and embrace the synchronicity. Just as some eyes will always see without even opening, as hearts see, blind to all but the glow of spirit and what is righteous, some eyes will never see.. even when fully opened. One can see his starcrossed lover, and never know her name. One may walk next to his twin flame, but never look into her eyes. One can embrace his soul mate, and maybe never even realize it. Footprints of those entwined in life may never be seen side-by-side, but they are never truly apart.

We all feel this pull, this force of the heart when another person comes into our lives. Subtle at first… it grows louder, stronger.. pulling us closer together until we cannot deny what is simply a pure truth. We owe it to ourselves, to our own quest for happiness and harmony to open our hearts to the most random happenstance that makes its way to us.. For within this sphere we may finally find what we’ve been searching for.. Whether this is love, companionship or the realization of a lifelong dream, open the door to your Kismat. Unbusy your mind and allow for the universe to guide your feet… remembering that we’re always exactly where we need to be.

No effort is needed here.. no force, no strength, no endurance. It simply is. It needs only to be allowed, invited and embraced. Recognize that the flow of fate is entangled with chance, just as random as a leaf blowing recklessly among the breeze, so too is our kismat.

I am open to my kismat, whatever it brings my way. We should all open this door; unlock our hearts from the busy world and allow this power to transform our lives.

As we breathe, the balance of our lives will continually shift, move and rattle. We walk our paths by way of loops, detours and switchbacks.. but truly, we are always walking the same path to our final home. Would it not be better to walk with another.. along the same path, feet pressing against the same Earth; both hearts experiencing the same beauty; through two entangled souls?

I’ll choose to take a companion along should the universe be so kind…

As we ponder our lives, let us ponder along the margin of Kismat, in a sphere of destiny that floats among the winds of chance. Here you will find the ancient book of life.. the very scripture written by your own hand, and signed by another.




Image“So the unwanting soul sees what’s hidden, and the ever-wanting soul sees only what it wants.” ~ Lao Tzu

Some of us brave the world, others hide. Some get by with little effort, while their neighbors struggle to live. Despite this struggle…People affect the changes they wish to see in the world, yet they cannot affect a change within; in the delicate spaces where it should begin.. In the space where struggle may forever be abolished.This sphere is bold. It is the desire of the mind, without consent from the heart. It is why the world is a place of material wealth instead of soul. It is born in the glimmer of a diamond, and rests in the hand of a thief.

These are the truths of living as imparted by social contract. We are born into these various contracts without consent, without knowledge of them. Yet we abide. And though we do abide them, we go along with them, we accept them.. why do we allow struggle? Why do we shun the spirit in the face of the material world? Why do we live for the harvest, but have no time to learn of its planting?These questions beg an answer from all souls.. Shall we remain sheep, corralled in the fence by the shepherd of the world? Or shall we break the gate…

I often wonder who the first man or woman was who deemed an item valuable. Be it a jewel, seashell, rock or anything.. Who was the one to assign value and why? By necessity perhaps this was the way it began.. then from necessity came what? Want and desire I imagine.. Not for need, and not for growth.. but for mirrors, for pleasantry; for adornment of the flesh and for the sparkle of the eye. Along the way, we gave our adoration for the divine to the privacy of the heart.. all the while allowing the pleasure of the world to overcome our innate spiritual nature. This must change before a shift of consciousness may begin.

See the sparkle? Like the sparkle? Must you have the sparkle??? Please… realize there is no sparkle here.

Not many care for jewels.. I am one. They make the hand heavy.

I do not sit in want for gold.. I would rather happily waste my time with a pen or a brush.

My treasure is the love that I see in the tiny spaces of the world.. as it gives me hope for the human being.

I will not walk through a sphere of material, through a house of greed and wealth. For me, no object can be taken from here, and no amount of paper is worth anything without words of knowledge written upon it.

Be cautious in your endeavors. Are they for your sake, or for the forsaken? For the status or the prize? Or for the life within and around us all… A true endeavor begins in the heart, and will lead its own way to the goal.

I hope for the world to see how the treasure that we so often seek is nothing more than a construct of a twisted mind; A means to garner power and control, for selfish gain and dishonest trust. The true treasure rests within and around us all. It is alive in nature, it is alive in the love we share, the smile we wear, the generosity we show and the pains that we help to heal. It rests not in a wallet or in a bank account, nor does it exist in a flawless diamond worn on the finger.. Treasure does not exist in a sparkle.

One day, I hope we may all look upon a diamond and see nothing more than a collision of light, remarkable colors dancing together, refracted through a well cut prism.. and nothing more. When man realizes this, perhaps the beauty of all things will be revealed, and a true consciousness will once again root itself in harmony with all life.




Image“One ought to hold on to one’s heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too.”~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Human emotion… A complexity that can be just as paradoxical as the universe itself. Though, this emotion is truly part of all existence. It comes to us through a passageway that we cannot see, but only feel. Our senses absorb this energy. It then becomes tangible within us. It is this that allows us to feel life. It is our feeling that compels us to go forward, or to stand still.

We feel the surge of this emotion. Whether this is sadness, anger, fear, joy or bliss. We notice these tides of life flowing through us, this undercurrent of emotion, thought and feeling. This sphere is one to pay close attention to. We must confront our feelings, know them, and abide their calls. Without feeling, life is mute.

Living without attentiveness to feeling seems to be a new trend in this time. Too often we’re “busy” with life, yet more often we’re not living life.. only regarding our busyness as progress. We disregard feeling and emotion in the way of what we deem as logical thoughts or explanations. We dismiss the call of the heart, the intuition of the soul and the voice of the universe. This voice is muffled by our busy lives, but it cannot be snuffed out completely. It exists only to be heard, felt and spoken.

Our own soul begs us to listen, to stop and be still for a moment and find a place of memory. It begs us to remember; to remember the tide of emotion, as we felt it as a child. This was new; a feeling that spoke with a loud voice.. we listened to it with intent and learned from feelings, from the sensations amplified by the heart. We must find this innocence of life once again.

Be still in your life for a moment. Stop being so busy. This busyness is only a distraction from true life and raw emotion; a distraction from the true self calling from within. Our lives will remain incomplete without a fullness of self, and without the acceptance of feeling. This sphere combines all feeling, all that can be felt is found within.

We live in the time of the Emoji; this tiny emoticon that is used nearly everywhere. Of the many faces that we can send to others, or pin on a digital wall.. the true face of life still remains hidden behind our falsehood. We cannot replace emotion with marks, we cannot describe the constant evolution of the present moment with a simple token. It is as alive as we, as the Earth and as the green lands through which we travel. We must make the pilgrimage; the trek to our heart. In this we will reclaim our self, and dawn our true emoji.

Visit your emotions. Do not let them idle outside in the cold. Simply breathe, surround yourself with the present moment and feel what you’ve been shunning. This is the key to the door to life; to the voice of the righteous and to the touch of the divine. Opening this door will bring truth; truth of life and knowledge of soul.





Be… Just a Thought

“Be – Don’t try to Become.” ~ Osho

ImageI find it interesting how some shut out the world while others seemingly let it in. Also I find it curious how the world, the universe, suddenly opens our ears to listen. I’ve had this experience recently, when moving along in my daily routine I’m suddenly stopped with thought. These thoughts occur often, but this time with a pronounced voice; a profound clarity. I awakened.

Life moves quickly, without stopping, without pause. Like a constant tumbling weed, flying past the landscape in motion with its windy companion. The Winds of the earth drive the tumbleweed on until it can go no further. It lands where it’s supposed to land, bounces and rolls as it’s guided to do. Are we not so different? Do we not bounce and roll with our lives? And when do we decide to pause? When do we decide to stand firm against the wind? To lean headlong into its mighty gust?

We all do this.. We are guided by forces beyond our sight, above our ears and unknown to our minds. These guiding forces come to us when we call them. When we manifest their powers, when we need a push, a nudge or even a voice.

I’ve found that listening to the world opens up a broad and heightened sense of living. It gives me promise to know that the world is also listening, waiting in silent space to speak and be heard.

In all travels, it is important to remember the way; the way back to the sacred. We must all find this path eventually, whether in this life or another. This path begs us to be; to be our true self, not our persona, not our mask, not our neighbor. Once we learn how to “Be” we then can move into a place of peace, no matter where our feet stand.

In travels, we enter into ourselves. When we move far from home, we feel both empowered and scared; alive and saddened; fearful yet hopeful. We can experience all compliments of life this way when we look inward; into a sphere of self, a sphere of being.

In this life, we all enter into many spheres. We come to new places, new views. Sometimes we revisit old places, familiar scenery. Other times we follow our hearts, and we may come to both a new and familiar place. This is all I hope for in life, for those to find comfort and sanctuary; harmony and concord with being. And let’s all face it… “Being” is often a trial. But it only feels this way on the surface.

Being is very much a reality of our own choices, and at the same instant, caused by the pressure of colliding forces unseen, unthought, and unknowable.

Being is life, and it is death. It is living, it is birth, and it is daily breath. Realize this and.. Be alive, Just simply be… And you will surely Become.

Lands of Life

Image“The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~ Augustine of Hippo

I often think about traveling, moving. The destination, whether here or there, makes little difference. The reason is simple. This reason dwells upon wanting to move, to have motion; a motion of life.. an active involvement in the pursuit of a goal, a desire or a dream. This way is my own, one of a nomad, a soul that travels the Earth connecting with every step to every piece of ground it finds itself on. No matter where I find my feet, I am home. This is my sphere, and I am its traveler.

Many strive to connect with their surroundings. Some pay little attention where they dwell. Others are well aware of the harmony they feel in a special place. Why do we live where we live? What do you love, hold dear about where you live? What keeps you there? Many could not answer these simple questions. But the answers are simple. Our lands speak in a quiet voice, they hold our steps, allow us waters to drink and nourishment for our weary bodies. The land gives us life, and in return only hopes that we are kind travelers, treading lightly and only taking what is needed, never wasteful. We should be gracious and place a warm hand against the cold membrane of hard crust and smile. Then if we are so in tune to feel the joy that the world whispers back…We may hear it saying one simple thing… Thank you for traveling here.

We can be intrepid in life, traveling here, there. Living here, or there. But we must remain eternally aware of our surroundings. We must strive to make good our promise to the land. A promise as stewards, to care for the small bushes and the large rivers alike. These things are not here for our fancy, not placed purposely as scenery. They are a mirror to our own self, our minds and hearts; a reflection of creation, alive in and around us all.

On a quiet walk we can see the sphere of our lands, the wind parting the grass. In a quiet place we can feel the tremble of our feet upon the ground, the rumble of the Earth beneath our feet. In our hearts we can find the sphere of creation, and to think we somehow are set apart from this wonderful place is nothing more than arrogant. Man is nature, the spirit of the land dwells within the soul. We must care for our Earthly home, as it cares after us all.

No matter where we travel, our home is our place of peace. It should not be treated as a slovenly shanty. This home of ours should be decorated as a palace for kings, cleaned and washed for all to see its shimmering radiance. From miles away we need only stand still to see the simple beauty of our home. It’s a place of many dimensions, both eloquent and arrogant; simply beautiful.

We all must tread with great care on this sphere, under our blanket of stars. This space is our home, and decorated with wonders that many fail to ever see or realize. Take a look at your world and see what it truly is. As we look, we find how blessed we are to have this precious life.. to be a part of such majesty. This is our sphere.

All men walk the Earth, on these lands of life. As we do, we are never alone. Never separate from the spirit of all that is. How do we know this?…. All the stars in heaven shine upon men as they walk the Earth. For our ancient home truly follows us throughout our travels, throughout our lives; never failing, shining brightly to light and guide our hearts.

Be Quiet

Image“The true genius shudders at incompleteness — imperfection — and usually prefers silence to saying the something which is not everything that should be said.” ~ Edgar Allen Poe 

The quiet ones are known to the world. These silent wayfarers keeping to their own, walking in harmony and disharmony. My world is quiet, though loud at times with silence. What is it to be quiet? It is a center, a source for wisdom and clarity, for observation and understanding, for seeing life and becoming truth.

Many say that the introvert is a shy person, one who is too subdued by fear to let himself be known. This is far from true. The quiet one walks with purpose, because he knows his purpose. He readily contemplates his place in the world at every turn, silently. He bothers nobody, he talks little, but when speaking… he is heard. His voice is soft, but his words are loud, powerful and deafening to the mind. He speaks with purpose, because that is his only way. Have diligence to hear the quiet ones, for they speak with truth.

The truth resides in a silent place.. a fervent sphere of hushed tranquility. A quiet man lives in this quiet sphere. It is harmonious, loving and nurturing. It is a bubble of solitude, from which many truths are revealed and contemplated. Life is born in this soft spoken drum of muffled noise, and only becomes louder with time. Those who can drown out the noise, muffle the clash of harsh language and boring idiom are those who can see the world in clarity. Without prejudice the quiet sphere calms the heart and nourishes the soul. This place of peace should be visited often.

Do not shun the quiet ones. For their lack of charisma is only a persona. Instead, learn from the silent, speak to the mute. These silent sages are intrepid in their quest for knowledge and truth, for peace and concord with nature. They walk with closed mouths but open hearts. Careful to let their voice be heard, and cautious to stand with others. For they know the masses hear only the noise, the crash of painful language and phrase.

In a quiet sphere I sit often, watching, listening, contemplating and feeling… mostly feeling. This is a place without fear, with only introspection and reflection as a guide. It nurtures the soul, it broadens the mind and fills the heart with truth and muse. It is a sanctuary among the noise, above the loud world which so many become trapped in. It is a solitude for the mighty, for the voiceless stewards of the world.

The greatest minds are those that appear quiet. These are the great writers, poets, screen actors, artists and all others who give their lives, baring the soul; accenting our world, giving light to its already beautiful and elegant form. They see the world, and speak with their pens, their brushes, their lines.. they give life to an otherwise boring tide of stillness. They prefer silence, because it speaks to them. So should we take lesson.

Seek out a quiet place. Become quiet only to hear the silence for the first time. This is truly listening to your own soul. For the silence, as quiet as it may appear, will be the most trumpeting sound you may ever know.

To Become


“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.” ~ Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

I saw a picture of the above photo the other day as a social media post. I stopped and stared at it for a long while. It made me feel, it made me listen and it made me hear the sound of my own true voice; the drum of my soul.

What does it mean to become? Why would becoming hurt? Why would this resonate so deeply with me? These questions are trivial at best, moreover it is the feeling that trumps the question even as I ask myself why. This sphere is quite unequaled, singular. It stands alone in both thought and feeling. The act of becoming must hurt, because it is the true pattern. It is the original form; the gestalt of creation and the act of growth.

Think about life and all moments of growth and realization. Some of these are sweet and full of joy. These moments where you have epiphany, when we see the truth set apart from all that is. We stand in wonder and smile at our new found fruits. We bask in our discovery; we are happy to have found this innocence of life shining vibrantly for our eyes to witness.

Other times these moments hurt. They pang, they sting. But these are the most important. These moments of facing the true self are often the most painful, when we see ourselves set apart from all that is, our true face and feelings revealed; this is the nakedness of soul, this is accepting who we are and all of our faults when shown to us. This becoming is painful, yet necessary to achieve brilliance; to become a star.

We are all perhaps at our very essence a splintered point of perfect awareness yet not realized. An imperfect being becoming perfect again, on the path to realizing perfection, growing, walking and traveling back to the singularity, to the origin of all that is. This path must contain all the foils of becoming that exist.

A perfect being must become, he must grow, he must mistake, he must hurt, and he must face himself. Otherwise he cannot become, he cannot grow, he will never know he is truly divine unless he hurts, unless he faces himself; his imperfection personified by toil and mud. He must look upon the waters and see his reflection, his imperfection; otherwise, how would he ever know he is?

In this sphere we must all realize, becoming is truth. Pain accompanies strength, and we must all grow toward this point. Without becoming we have no growth. We are stagnant, still and unmoving. Life does not continue. We must strive to become, to feel our soul when it stings, to hear our heart when it sounds the drum, and to do our work to become our true self; to embody our soul.

The sun still hurts, it is still becoming, and though the light shines bright and gives life… one day, again, it will become all that is.. once again together with the whole. Though it appears separate, it always is part of the whole; a whole that “becomes” in unison, alongside it.

The sun may become as we do.. We become slowly, and we become in a flash, in a sudden violent explosion of light, love and vibration. This energy, this becoming, is both painful and soothing, both comfort and sadness; hard and soft, dark and light. It is the way of the divine; of the angel growing his wings and soaring above the universe.

Today… begin to become. Feel the pain, and the joy. Feel life.