Daily Dosage for None

The body is a holy tool.
Holy. I've taken to this word. Again.
For my relations with it, this word, spring forth from a stained-glass youth.

Words as symbols.
Humans as concentrated energy, manifest as sacred geometry.
Unconcerned with life's mysteries but living them, nonetheless.
It's a hilarity! I want to laugh raucously and without care

but the heartiest laugh has just that in it: pumped blood.

And so too, do I cry.

Because that which gives me the greatest pleasure is also the cause for a cavernous underbelly of insidious pain.

And yet, I am becoming more awake. I am waking myself up, for it is no one's task but my own. I am being awoken, by all. And in my surrender to waking, "my" energy transforms into the transpersonal. And humans as a specie move along with everything else. With rusted resistance, nonetheless.

I love the manifestation of consciousness...how our entire being creates Separateness with a jaw-dropping perfectionism. Yang potential, binary.

Sometimes I see humans as swaths of color. And I think that's because of an innate ability to oscillate the perception of my very own nature .... I can see beyond humanness, I can, for a moment, a hiccup in  time * space, see closer truth:  that of Synthesis.

And when I see  that we are just patterns stitched into time, into space, beyond it even... made of the same geometry and varying designs and how we fit to each other in perfection... I laugh and I cry

for I feel that it is so holy. And beyond my comprehension, that which my concepts, my symbols, my tears, can never touch.... but are a part of, nonetheless.

Holy. Holiness. Humanity, the rest, Human design.

Our true nature is that of holiness, of perfect imperfection, of perfect design.
Wake up, accept who you truly are, your design,

tap into your core, the honesty of your every muscles and bone and fluid,
 and life will be the technicolor dreamcoat

or the magic carpet...

or both.
And.