River of words flood through the mind, through the sense of sight and hearing. Yet they feel different these recent days. As beautiful as they are, they seem partial, complicated, and potentially misleading. What is not expressed verbally feels more real than what is being spoken.
Each was met with the response, “Beautiful, but that is not where I am at, at the moment.” [Note: This is a wiser expression than the unedited initial reaction, which was “That is not it. What on earth are they on about? Why do we stay at this level? Come on, get real.”]
It is confusing when things are different from how they used to be. When what used to be attractive does not feel so anymore. Actually that is not entirely true. It is confusing, yes. But it is not that different from how they used to be – and by this, one means to what they used to be during certain moments in a distant past. The sentiment has returned.
The confusion is but a rejection from a certain part of oneself that refuses to return to that. For much is at stake here: the world as one knows it – one that one is comfortable with, no matter how excruciatingly painful and dragging it occasionally feels.
Otherwise it is clear as a broad daylight. What’s there to be confused about? The moment is an invitation to return to what one is in reality. To one’s true nature and preference. To what one really likes, if one is being honest with oneself. To what one calls home.
It is a strong invitation that meets one in the face, saying, “Stop mocking about. Just be.” The same one that compasionately says, “Relax into this moment. Then you will hear.”
.to be continued.