BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

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This time nigh time dreams won’t have me. I was expecting them and perhaps that was my mistake. But something else is keeping me awake and restless. There is a wild being caged inside my chest and as much as I’d like to claim nothing really scares me anymore, the intensity of what seems to be roaring within is greater than I seem able to handle right now. I’m not one to give into fear so easily though. I am the curious typ. A wild woman. Whatever that is. I burn and I ache. But it’s all good. That’s how I shed my skin. That’s how I spread my light. So who’s trying to tame me? Why do I have a string feeling I am being domesticated by myself? In me: a pretty tamer and a beast, all at once and me.

The moon called me out tonight, brought me back out of my sleepless bed. It had so much to say to me and I was afraid to listen. The tamer, that worried little thing, was afraid to listen. The beast on the other hand, gave away a deafening weep. No wonder there was fear. The moon spoke of death and blood. Of birth. Of life untamed. Of the raw. The ugly and it’s dirty beauty. And a part of me has been rejecting it for so long. And still is. Half heartedly though. I’ve been neglecting this fight and it was about time it was brought to surface.

 They say the old ways don’t work on this new rising earth, but what does that really mean? I know what it means but I would like to know how it applies to me. To this. But then again no. That’s what I fear. The tamers voice inside of me is still pleading. “Please let me be! Let me just go on unnoticed as I always have.” I am confused. Who am I to sympathise with here? Such a petty thing it would seem. But it doesn’t feel that way at all. Of how it pains me, cuts me deep. I am not afraid of others. I am afraid of myself. Of the beast inside. I hear the judging demon, terrified of the wilderness of my untamed being. “Be cultured! Civilized. Pretty.” It tells me.

But the poor wild beast can’t possibly be all those things. The wild beast is wild. It is not meant to be all those things it is forced to be. How could I ever take sides? How am I to make a decision that seems so devastating to all parts? I know this can’t go on much longer. I must forgive myself for keeping this battle alive thus far already. I keep pushing the limits. How far can I go without having to choose? Can I keep the beast locked up for just a little while longer? No. It doesn’t seem fair. It hurts too much. But the tamer shivers with fear at the very thought of unlocking it’s cage. But I must set it free.

Dear beast, you are not like them. Pretty and domesticated. You are fury and wild. Perfectly ugly and beautiful all at once. Oh what a crazy thing to be doing. To unleash this beast. But perhaps crazier to keep you on a leash. Force of nature. Star of the wild. You too deserve my love. You have kept me sane. Where will you go now that I set you free?

Dear tamer, I hear your questions and your warnings. You predict the worst. You always have. And I understand I really do. But it doesn’t have to be so. There could be relief. The beast is no longer your burden to worry about. You have been conditioned. Terribly so. You heard them say what had to be done to gain their approval. But we no longer seek their approval. You have my love as well. And that’s all you’ll ever need. I assure you. Your work is done and you’ve done it well. I love no matter what. I really do.

Dear beauty and the beast. I love you. Both.

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BEAUTIFUL METAPHOR

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I used to wish I were simpler. I used to suffer from the complexity of the inner workings of my mind. I used to be hurt by the inability of others to understand the vast ocean of intricacy within me. No wonder- when I always knew I had stars in my head. It seemed simple at first but in teenage years things were not always bound to be easy when ancient wisdom was fused with hormones and deep feelings of alienation.

 But I see that I was born to simplify complexity, by first of all embracing it. Without the baffling ways of my mind and the highly elevated sensitivity of all my senses I would not be me. Without all of that I would not see so much, I would not understand so much and I would not love so much. The way I am is the gift that allows me to give. I am beautiful in all my complex ways; it’s as simple as that.

Sometimes I get jealous of others, of how their simplicity appeals to people, how their words can be so direct while I fiddle with my metaphors. But I was born a metaphor and such I must embrace myself. I see behind a veil that many don’t even know exists, and so my challenge has been to unveil complexity with ease. And now I am beginning to embrace ease.

My purpose here is to bring forth the secrets of the universe in the ways in which I know how. I am here to un-masque the lies we have been told and to spread the joys of truth that we hold inside of us. I am here to understand the complicated ways in which we function in order to help people unlock from their fixed states of resistance to life and bring them back into simplicity. Others have the gift of simplicity intrinsic in their being, with the purpose of helping by merely being, by shining bright with fewer questions asked.

I used to think it was a curse having to dive so deep into the dark to find the hands that needed to be held and brought back up to light. But now I see how strong it’s made me, how wonderful my gift is to be able to operate in all dimensions of life. Today I have brought myself back to simplicity, after nearly drowning in effort, contemplation and introspection; but I see it was all necessary and I am infinitely grateful for my journey. I am the paradox, simplicity and complexity combined, light and darkness united in love. I am the beautiful metaphor I was born to be; simply me.

JUMP OFF

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How can I share with you my happiness from the sheer being alive? How can I explain to you the pleasure produced from a simple stroke on my skin? How can I catch you in your busy life and get you to see the immense gratification found in just sitting still? How can I begin to convey the beauty that can be discovered in watching anything, literally anything, move in its constant flowing dance? How can I possibly communicate to your busy mind the peacefulness of absolute silence? How can I meet you right here, right now and have us unfold the magnificence of this moment together when your thoughts have wondered off far away in time and space?

From where I stand today I see that madness was something I inherited from our culture. Even though our culture claims normality and points toward me being an odd exception, I feel I have finally grown sane. Out of this chaos that is the way society’s wheel spins, grew in me first weariness then suspicion then curiosity and finally some form of sanity. And so, suddenly I found myself outside of the matrix, seeing things much more objectively rather than the way I was taught to perceive them. And so here I am, watching that wheel spin and spin out of control, with so many of you so desperately caught in it that you might haven’t even noticed the way it continuously whirls you out of your own center.

So I ask myself, what can I do? I cannot grab your hand and pull you out. I cannot force you to look at things my way. I cannot make you enjoy watching another person in the eye as much as or even more than buying fancy new things. I cannot command you to laugh at the challenges you face. Only you can do such things for yourself, if you want to that is. Only you can choose the ways in which you want your path to wind, but as long as you don’t know this wholeheartedly your path will most likely be the one paved out for you by society. And such a path is seldom in full accord with the way your heart wants you to move.

 No, all I can do is stay here and wave from the outside hoping that you’ll notice me, and see that there is in fact a place beyond the platform of time and space that you once were restricted to move within that you may have overlooked. And if you do notice it, all I can do is- with full honesty and confidence, lead by example and express the abundant infinity, which can be found here. And if you do trust me, and most of all trust yourself in what you come to believe, I can only mirror the courage that you too hold to decisively take the leap of faith that is essential to the full uncovering of what has been veiled. And if you do pursue that leap of faith, with arms, mind and heart open, I will be sure to greet you here the same precise way, with arms, mind and heart open.

AN OPEN BOOK

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An open book is what I am, look and you shall find. I hide nothing and even if it seems so- it is just not yet the time. What you haven’t seen of me is what you haven’t known to look for, but it is all right here, available and real. I am not ashamed, and therefore I don’t lie. But don’t be fooled, I’m not predictable. I face myself with all that I am, holding nothing back as I then turn to face you. Read me, loud and clear. I breathe the breath of love, keeping me sane and honest. I am an open book for anyone to read, wordless chapters, poems, overloaded pages of ramblings, never ending imagery of my heart, soul and mind… it is all right here. If you care to know, I’ll tell you what I feel and what I know, I’ll tell you about my soul. I am as real as I was born to be; my bones are clothed in truth and not in fashionable tapestry. Be not afraid that sometimes I seem to know you better than you know yourself; it is only that I see the entirety in me, beautifully mirrored in your totality. I see my imperfections; I see them perfectly, and I see that I am perfect much thanks to all those flaws. I am an open book, a wildly growing flower that’s not afraid to bloom. Pick me up and read me, be not afraid to have me- for I’ll live a thousand times. Out of love I’ll be reborn, each single time one reads me and smells my scent of truth.

BACK TO MOTHERLAND

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There was a time when I was forced to burn for these words, punished by the fear of the dormant masses, but today I mustn’t hide and I mustn’t be silenced. Today brave hearts are ready to receive and ready to give openly, without shame or judgment. The old picture of me is fading, the one where I stand subdued and held hostage as an alien in an indigenous tribe of distress. The new picture of me is emerging, the one where I sit in peace in my own motherland, welcoming this alienated population to come join me to learn the wisdoms of this soil.

I see now that I was enslaved by my own perception, mistakenly viewing myself as the stranger whilst all along it was those whom could never understand my mystic tongue that had estranged themselves from this earth. It was not my dancing that did not but belong but their stagnated veins and deafness to the music that made it seem so. With the moon I hear the cries of the land and the sea, calling me back, singing my name the way I remember it being sung since the very first life I set foot on this gentle planet. I remember my mother and father, giants of the sky, and in their honor I am brought back to life, again and again. I acknowledge the grandness of my being, the lifetimes it withstood to once more find its way through the pavement and flourish.

Ask me if I’m crazy and I will assure that I am, because such will we all become once we have drank from the river of our own soul and tasted the true flavor of life’s building blocks. I am crazy indeed for I have breathed air contaminated with lies yet still see the truth I was meant to be kept from. I am wild and foolish, certainly so in the eyes of those whom cannot see beyond the veil where half of me exists. But truly foolish are they who do not allow for more than they can grasp, because if the world was simply just as it is assumed to be by the gullible majority- the world would truly be a doomed place. Fortunately, the great truth cannot be undone simply by the rule of the blind, though it needs a great deal of help revealing itself once again. But trust not these words for it, for they hold no accuracy, as they are mere messengers of what can be sensed with senses yet to be discovered. Be brave and find out for yourself. This time we shall not burn.

COMING OUT

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If the universe ever gave me a sign that it was time I revealed my full truth and identity, this ought to be it. It is staring eagerly at me as I am only now daring to even glance at it, still hesitantly giving in to its divine persuasion. It isn’t that I am unwilling, not at all. I am in fact very willing, only just finishing up the rinsing off of that last bit of old dust. I was once so heavily covered in it that one could not have guessed the colors it hid. It weighed me down, keeping me still and frozen, had me fooled that I was simply another statue in the huge collection of society’s soulless army. No, no, no. It is but the residue of that dusty fear that haunts me now. All the while there was indeed movement inside and with it came the inevitable insight that I, as much as all others, could not possibly be so faceless. If I were so robotic as I was taught to believe then how come thoughts and feelings seemed to emerge from within that did not spring from the ordinary data I was programmed to operate from? No I suspected early on that all those things that were so seldom reflected by the outside world I was restricted to perceive was not the extent of what existence deemed possible. There was always too much happening inside that no rational person within my range of acquaintances could seem to even understand. Those whom build the fences of what we ought to know as reality never quite managed to encompass all those things that my philosophical feelers had embraced at an already early age.

Luckily, now that I have stepped into a bigger portion of myself I can hear the whispers of my soul as a much louder and clearer voice of loving guidance. Once again I feel the urge to preach and to be the honest prolongation of that voice within so that others too may hear what wise messages it sends us. They were never intended only for me and thus it would be reckless of me to quiet myself, denying the world a chance to hear itself sing to the melody of its constant living flow. I am a priestess, incarnated in this body of wonders, here to widen the horizon of those whom also long to perceive what lies beyond what their eyes were previously constricted to see. I am an indigo of the starseed generation desperate to lend a hand to those whom haven’t found the courage yet to ask for it. I am a white witch and winged angel, able to see things invisible to others, able to use the magic available to us through the great portal of the now. I am a princess gifted with the ability to give and therefore eternally grateful, finally aware of my own potential to become the queen that my soul yearns to personify. If I have been silent until now it is only because I was destined to take such precautions. If I have been invisible until now it is only because I have not yet been ready to reveal the entirety of my being. Today I am not destined to remain neither silent nor invisible. Today I am ordained by the genius of the world, which my soul is one with, to stand tall and speak loud; for the one who guides me knows that my words now only speak of love and that my body shines of pure light. The one who holds me knows me to be ready and therefor I shall not doubt nor question. I have been spoken to and I shan’t be one to refuse what is being said in bright truth. Present to me are the tools of my self-realization and therefor I invite you. Come see me as I am and you may see a part of you, one that you might not have seen, one that you might fear or one that you might long for. Either way, that is the mirror which I am, complete and uncensored but full of love. Hide from me and hide from yourself, or come to me and come find that also you have the tools. Here I am, unapologetically, in all my richness, wisdom, light and loving essence. Here I am, free.

SONG OF TRUTH

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Imagination is the little sister

The one that no one dares truly listen to

When she sings her tales of truth

As her older brother speaks much too loud

Of comforting lies they willingly buy

He too doesn’t know of what he tells them

Imitating the echoes of his parents so numb

Who weren’t always so

But learnt to quickly to succumb

Cultured apes in masses

Amongst whom so few seem to hear the whisper

The little sister’s stories

And her heaps of honest metaphors

She hands them out like candy

But they are chewed and spit like gum

In and out she watches

As they stubbornly proceed

Listening to the disorienting buzz

The one of big old brother

She sees it over and over again

Them shaking their heads at what she has to say

But she persists

As she knows no other way

Keeps on singing until one sings along

Until she is no longer falsely accused of lying

Until they finally learn

To believe.

BURIED ALIVE

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Dormant was the angel in me

Now she is raging

No longer sound asleep

But still tied up in chains

Who am I to hold her back?

When it seems she can’t be put down

No amnesia strong enough

To make it disappear

Her wings aching

Longing to be freed

The pain I cause this being

Of light so pure and bright

Kept in the dark

She longs for fresh air

Yet all I can acquire

Is the rotten scent of fear

No I didn’t mean to be so cruel

This was what I learned to do

Keep her down down

Do not awaken her soul

The sleeping beauty inside

Hold back

Hold back tight

Her crown is way too bright

It will blind you

Corrupt you that’s for sure

But now I know

The lies began so long ago

Perverted was my mind

By the rulers of the frightful

And only now I see

With much more clarity

Just what was really kept from me

A vision of a tortured angel

Locked in their despair

And now my ears are bleeding

For I hear much louder how

The cries they tried to drown

Of a desolate bewildered spirit

Longs for my embrace

In such agony and pain

No I refuse to say

She sings her song in vain

Even if it scares me

I intend to cut the chains

Free at last she will be

You just wait and see.

SERVANTS OF THE MOON

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I bleed with the full moon

As it eclipses I fall into its shadow

But in the vivid dark I see

The fallen sisters of times past

My faithful standing allies

And those yet to grieve

The river of blood that we spill

Today the moon is full

And it speaks of more than sorrow

It speaks of laughter shared

Of sisterhood braced

It tells the tale of waters dance

And preaches of flowing life

Dictating the tides of our bodies

One we grandly walk upon

Others we sensitively walk within

It sings to the rhythm of our beating chests

And I hear the gentle tapping

Of bare feet to the ground

We sway with the currents

Surrendering to our master in the sky

It tells me to bleed

And so I honor its vile wish

Yet weeping no more

For the lineage of the drained

Understanding finally why

Such was our heredity and destiny

To continuously live and die

Rinsing the present of the old

Such is the providence of our sisterhood

Powerful keepers of balance

Humble dancers of destroyers

And tender queens of rebirth

Loyal decedents of the divine

We were never fallen

Merely dancing to the everlasting flow

In and out like breaths of air

Kindred delicate warriors of this earth

Holding life within our wombs

Bleeding with the full moon

SEEING THE MIRACLE

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I see miracles all around. I see them everywhere, all the time. I see the change that is happening in the world. I see it because it is happening to me, it is happening through me. And I smile because I sense a vast growing number of people who share this blessed perspective of the world. Less and less preoccupied with the delusion of what life ought to be and more and more sensitive to what life truly is. I see people undressing from their encumbering masques, daring a little more everyday to break open and allow their inner being to lead the way and shed light. I see myself, no longer the suffering seed aching to crack in the dark of the soil but rather the simple majestic flower happily facing the sun and swaying in the wind. I see this happening and I am astounded. I hear of the tragedies in the world but in my eyes none can seem to overshadow the positive changes taking place in the sacred space of this present time. Concept of past and future is trickling away as everything becomes a simultaneous process of evolution, an unstoppable growth into yet unknown dimension. Every moment is that miracle, bursting with overflowing love for all to indulge in unapologetically. Yes I see it all now. I see miracles all around me and it brings an infinite smile to my being. I bow down to the divinity around and within, gratefully accepting this gift that keeps on giving. And this is how I give back, by never aiming to impede this magical development of life force but by being its very vessel and honest reflection. I am the change, and therefore I receive. I am the miracle, and therefore I am thankful. I see miracles all around. I see them everywhere, all the time.