Truly truth

If the word “truth” generates discomfort or ignites an emotion within ourselves, could it be that this emotion is something we have to first address?  Like the word “love”, or  “religion”, the word “truth” brings forth a lot of unresolved emotions.  Could it be, we have been actually taught what this word does not actually define?

In this life, intellectualism is not my interest.  I am not passionate about the what or how, what we learn in books, what appears in the news or magazines.

I don’t have a scientific answer to why those things don’t interest me other than, I know there is somewhere within me that knows what is truly important.  Although I cannot prove any of these things, and it is not my role to do so, it does not therefore mean I do not know what is true or not.

Therefore, to most of the world, I cannot explain many things that I have felt, and because of this, I have bought into the belief that I am inadequate, not worthy to be heard, and wanted to give up and just remain mute.

Yet, for me, truth has always felt very close to home.

What truth means in the temporal world, is largely, what has been accepted as the norm.  But what is the norm?  How did the norm come about?  If enough people believe and accept something, it becomes normal and hence, true, correct?  But is that truly truth?

What if, the majority of the world has chosen to believe in something that is comfortable and convenient?

Then, is the truth we think we know, truly truth?

No, I cannot prove truth.  Yet like love, I know truth actually cannot divide and separate, because whether we believe in it or not, we can all feel truth. What divides is when we grasp onto my truth being true and your truth being untrue.

And the most awesome thing is, truth can only be, it does not judge what you believe in or not, it does not wish to prove you right or wrong, it does not need followers or supporters, it just is and will be.

 

 

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Love and only (true) love

There has been many years when I did not allow what is natural to flow. Until one day, I decided to write, not just write, but share what I have written. Then I realized, not only was I holding myself back for all those years, I was also holding back every single person in this world.

I had to share life. Life as how I have chosen and how it has been my teacher, my medicine. Did I always do life right? Hardly. What I wish to share about life is, it could have hardened me, and I have chosen many experiences that point to the road of big time hardening.

There was a spark, at times although so dimly felt, not because it is small, but because of my own self neglect and choice to not want to feel it, yet throughout my life it is always there within my heart. This spark, is my connection to love.

Did I always know love? I have always known love, but I did not always live it. Knowing love and witnessing myself not living it, is one of the greatest pains I have ever felt. Did I give up on myself? Almost, I almost bought into the guilt that does not fail to debilitate and cripple, because I have given my power to it.

What I did not envision after that was the beginning of truly living love. Not speaking or fantasizing or intellectualizing about love. But truly, responsibility, seriously, playfully, commitedly, consistently living love. This has nothing to do with being flirtatious or sexual with anyone else, but it is about being love and making love with myself every moment (again, nothing sexual is implied here). Making love every moment of my every day, what does that even mean? Imagine waking up, the first thought and the accompanying action—is that me being love, first and foremost to me? Am I being gentle to myself from the every mouthful I put in my body, to every word uttered to another, to the choices of what to select and put in my shopping basket and consequently carrying home? Am I putting love first when in a situation where emotions attempt to take over? Do I feel and honor every being in this world knowing we are all equal? Are any of my subtle expressions conveying separation that even I am unaware of? Can I continue to be love if everyone else chooses differently?

Am I being “hard” on myself for attempting not to harden in life, you may ask. There are no rules in how I live. I do not abstain from eating any foods because I don’t allow myself to. I do not go to bed early because I have to. There is nothing in life I have to do. Every single action though is a choice from my heart, knowing it would support me in being love. Why is love so important? Who would even notice if we slip once or twice, and not be love to ourselves or to others? My body would register every choice of love and lovelessness I have ever made, and I am always responsible for all the choices I have ever made and will ever make. All diseases as well as incidents/accidents in life are a result of all the choices I have made. I cannot avoid the consequences of my past choices but I can always choose new choices from now on.

Why I am sharing this is, life is constantly a learning. I have not mastered anything in perfection, and I never will. Every day I may make an unconscious choice or I may override the knowing in my heart for convenience, but it is also I who has to suffer ultimately, sooner or later. And writing while living life in love, knowing it is surely and truly a discipline, in steadiness and consistency. And the first love we show ourselves is to be more accepting and less critical in what we have missed. In-truth, we are already there. We are already enough. We are ready. Don’t let the imperfections of what entails a human experience cloud truth. Truth can only be felt within the heart.

Without honesty and responsibility, there is no true love. And knowing love, and allowing ourselves to feel the love within us, the spark which I mentioned earlier, is actually a blazing flame. And no matter how far from it we have tread, its warmth and light will always be there for us to feel, if we decide to return.

Let life be our art

A child can see and hear multitudinous more than a grown up, sometimes.  For we are all born with eyes and ears, nose, limbs and tongue, inside our hearts.

As a child I can feel so much going on, is not it.  It is not truth.  Simply because it does not feel right within my heart.  Yet, as a child, having such natural feelings can overwhelm, not so much because of feeling them, but more so how to communicate these feelings to a world, and be understood, when the world does not communicate in this way.  From very young, I have made up my mind, that no one would understand.

Yet, feeling I continued.

Growing up, my ears could hear so much more than what was spoken, all the honesty unexpressed, but niceties wrapped up in sugar and honey was how we communicated.  So I stopped speaking.  Because I do not know how to not speak truth–the truth of the reality that moment, and the truth which is absolute in my heart.

For many years I felt distraught, but never did I give up on the truth that my heart knows, although sometimes I chose to not heed it.  Not knowing how to otherwise, I began exploring this in art, (without studying it–my degree is in chinese studies) where possibilities are endless.  Art is an arena where beyond that of “reality” can be expressed freely, although, I was actually only wishing to express the reality that most have forgotten to be true.

I began taking pictures, from a second hand automatic camera.  I wrote and wrote and wrote to allow all the conflicts that I felt but have not expressed throughout the years to flow.  No coincidence that I got myself a job with no experience in photography or journalism, in a magazine publication.

I did not want to “create”.  I am not interested in making up something that I feel may be better.  I know there is a better.  And this better simply begins with being loving to every single being. I only wanted to express this in all ways possible with this vehicle.

And thus, life, has become my art and my medicine.

Speak with Love

Before we open our mouths to express love, what comes forth is already in the heart, when it is called for, our lips and tongue move so love takes shape and form in words and sounds in expression.

Love in expression does not always mean sweetness, and it never is the kind of sweetness that attaches like silly putty and does not come off.  But love in expression is always gentle and non-imposing.  Never is love something that is spoken in judgement.  Simply, expression in love is just stating what it truly is.

Sometimes love is a consistent firmness, not in resistance, but repetitively conveying in livingness of who we are, with words and beyond that of words.  We may have to repeatedly express, what is simple, perhaps sometimes too simple, for the mind to comprehend.

Recently, speaking with love is my learning, with family, with co-workers, with strangers.  Not shying from what wishes to truthfully express from the heart, is my first commitment in speaking with love.  Love speaks, not what society wishes to be pandered to, but how it truly is.

And it is amazing, how when love is spoken, it is unlike how poetry portrays it to be throughout the ages, that hearts are swooned and the senses are mesmerized; rather, to many, love sometimes stuns, and it becomes our choice to either feel in depth with self-honesty, or distract from it through a myriad of ways.

Love, though, is very patient.

Mediator

A hybrid of a firey heart and a self effacing personality, the body acts as mediator.

This moment, I have no words or desires but am prostrating to this vehicle in utmost respect and humility, its agreement to take on one of the hardest tasks, and yet have over and over again through its compassion and wisdom, worked endlessly to bring back harmony, to constantly teach and learn to incorporate soul into what is not of soul.

I

Am

Too humbled

For words.

Eternally

Learning with you.

Just a woman

What is a woman to do after feeling the intensity of unadulterated feelings of the cosmic heart in the physical reality? Pure feelings from the heart, untampered by emotions.

What is she to do when the physical reality shifts as hastily as which it has slowly nurtured with care?

What can a woman do when the love she has grown and given to herself, seem to disappear like quicksand sucking in anything that it has touched?

What is a woman to do when the feelings of divine love expressed, is no longer encouraged to express, yet they continue to flow through her pores, her smiles, her tears, her fingers, her whispers, softly, no longer certain?

What is she to do when these feelings are magnified immensely within her heart with the moon lulling, pushing, pulling, far and near; closest and farthest from the sun, and the expression implodes?

She is just a woman.

It is natural to feel and honor her feelings.  Her feelings run mad and become emotions.  And all she could do was to honor them too.

And then and only then, the woman discovers there is much to learn and the feeling of failure and rejection is not here to be against her.

She knows that realities can change both ways, if a possibility is opened; but she is disinterested in creating or manifesting if it is not of love anymore.

She remembers the deep love that flowed through her, on that one day, reciprocated and felt in the human existence, in full intensity of co-creation; so she knows, she has already experienced what she has come here to.  It does exist.

And she knows another experience, is in-truth, another reminder and continued livingness to discover that the only medicine for humanity is to be truly who we are, in every moment, within any reflection.

She is thankful that every step forward, has brought her closer to the truth of who she is.  Her pledge is to be true in each breath, breathing deeply in honesty, every fragility, every realization.

She is just a woman, who cannot but be love.

And even if she has to walk alone, she cannot but be she.

I still believe in flowers

This is where I am at.

Speaking about what I have always felt unable to speak about.

The inability was not because of lack of words or feelings, but because I was feeling another prior and in a greater extent to myself.  I had felt the situation did not permit me to speak about what I needed to, because it would be in disrespect to the other party if I did.  And thus, for years and lifetimes, I have been dishonoring myself.

I had swallowed words and sucked in tears which should naturally be allowed to flow; instead of expression, everything imploded and began to suffocate the light.

I know who I am.  I have come in harmony.  From the very first day, I have expressed that I bear full responsibility of my life.  I have come in honor of my heart, and also in honor of your heart.  I have come in trust of the universe.  And thus, all that you have reflected back to me, I receive gently and love preciously, whether in joy or in pain.  I have come and left in incompletion, without full expression and livingness of myself, I have dishonored myself firstly, and you, thereafter; because I had felt your distance.  But what I see is only my responsibility and I am bearing it in full.

There is a family amongst me, whom I felt love and care.  And yet I could not open up to most of them, because of the huge responsibility I felt to preserve harmony.  I am inflicting cruelty on myself because of my attachment to my tribe, I am choosing to love others over the love for myself.

And so, I have come back to where I am at.

I could only honor that.

I still believe in flowers.

The heart

Any heart is like your baby.

Hearts are to be nurtured, honored, simply because they are the place where all magic is shared and lived.  A heart is sacredness magnified . We do not simply pay attention to a heart when there is desire or magnetizing attraction, any heart deserves to be respected.  Being careless with one heart, we open our hearts to be careless by another; sometimes we go through lifetime after lifetime as such, until the gift of the heart is forgotten.  We have forgotten what it is to Love.

Any baby is to be cherished.

Babies are born innocent, they are portals into purity, and so is an unadulterated heart.  There is only truth in the heart.  The language of the heart is openness, transparency and honesty, spoken in the unity of harmony and joy, that which is Love.  The heart is our remembrance into the unity that we began as, and she has to be lived for the remembrance to be activated.

When we honor fully the truth of the heart, the body will age well and grace will be in our every breath.

Those in remembrance of the heart, live solely for the remembrance of others.

Please, be true and gentle with all hearts.  They are all the babies of our future.

Until next time

I carried a rock with me the first time I went to Machu Picchu, Peru, the trip I took five years ago that changed my life.

Five years ago Machu Picchu was very different from today. One afternoon, I slept with this rock on the high pastures of this ancient Incan ruin. I dreamt while I slept, woke up with tears streaming down my face, and from that moment on, I lived this dream in waking reality.

A few weeks ago, this rock which has always been guarding my altar called me. When I looked at it, it has split into two. What has been one is now two.
In essence we are always one, but for service, now is the time to geographically and physically separate to share who we are individually.

In-truth, Love cannot ever diminish. And in my love, go forth wherever you are called, whoever you have to be with, for this dream to be lived. Until next time, beloved.

Celebration

I live because I am.
I smile because it is natural.
I am here for an impulse within to serve.
I walk across the mountains, carrying life’s burdens, wearing my good leather shoes or no shoes at all.
I dress up every day according to my heart, for that IS the purpose.
I paint my nails because my hands and feet express in colors.
I eat and drink not because of schedules, tastes or conditioning, but how my body feels this moment.
I sprint, I pause, I collapse, whenever it is truly called for.
I teach my eyes to see through the heart, so every moment I am with beauty.
I am the mother, the father, the friend, sometimes all at the same time to my child.
When I am lonely or sick, I humbly invite my soul to be with me again.
I say thank you when I wish to cry.
I celebrate all that I am.