When We Wake

We are jumbles of arms and legs, souls entwined in astounding ways. Connected on levels beyond the reach of our understanding. Even to those who we scorn, mock, judge, condemn. They are all of us. We are all of them.

We are mosaics. Constructed by millions of pieces of those who have added notes to our song through their brief presence on our path, by those who are yet to change our future melody, by those whose breathe is thousands of years gone. But still their pieces shape us. 

We are a lineage. A product of generations who unknowingly, undoubtedly passed on their dreams, their illusions, until they became our truths. The picture of our reality painted by those who now sleep, unaware the magnitude of their beliefs. 

And when we wake we shall ache with loss. For until now we have found comfort in the chaos. We are accustomed to the turmoil within. We have believed that this, our state, was life. Now we shall wake.

We have become exposed. Magnificently broken. Shaken, upended, cracked wide open. We have seen the painters and know their time is up. We have a new form to take. We can’t survive the old. There is too much at stake. Evolution is our only hope. 

Our time is now. We have been given the brush. We have been chosen to rewrite the book. To choose the illusion, to chase the dream for the next generation. A task that spans nations, continents, cultures, judgements and condemnations. 

I ask myself how. I am so small. I am but one. Together we are many. One step together encompasses the globe. And so…

I can love.

When everything inside me rages, when my body quivers for judgement of wrongdoings, I can love. In some small way on the most testing of days, I can love. When injustice or betrayal tempt me to allow my thoughts to roam to thoughts of revenge, I can love. 

When my heart is heavy, when the chaos threatens to take the wheel and direct me back to my sleeping state, I can love. This is my moment in time. This is my thought penned. So that when the morning comes and the rage returns I can be brought back to this moment. This moment of calm, of clarity, of love. 

It is in this love that we forgive, and in forgiving love ourselves. Forgive ourselves. We understand that there is a universe at play, greater than ourselves, constructed of ourselves and those before us. We understand that we own nothing and everything all at once. 

We forgive because we know each person has had their reality painted for them before they were even aware, and for their life to become life they must wake. They must break, shake, crack wide open, take hold of their own paint.

So we love, and we wait. 


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