2017-1-17

For as long as I can remember, i’ve hated life on Earth. Such was a situation in which I felt subject the most mundane and mediocre of things, where the very nature of incarnate life seemed to require constant application of spiritual technique simply to exist. I have not loved it here, but rather endured a situation I found tasking at it’s very core. For years, I struggled to rise above the delerium and detritus of the human condition to reach a clarity as to what was truly going on so that I could find some way to survive and remain sane. And, after many years of challenge, I achieved this goal, acquiring real discernment, real clarity on the nature of form and how it plays out in the World.

Yet I have not loved it. I have approached it with a sense of duty and of resignation to what must be done. This is not the same as love. Not by far. In the grand scheme of our Ascension, Clarity is necessary to be sure. Yet so is Love. Such occur for me as the Divine qualities of simultaneously knowing what something truly is and accepting it’s nature in our Heart.

It is 2017 as I write this, and I am sitting in the “TLC” cafe in Topanga Canyon, one of the hearts of the City of Angels, otherwise known as Los Angeles. I am grateful, for a place to write has been afforded me by the graciousness of a new ally here in the mountains, where the clean vibrations of the Aina, the sacred land, may allow me purchase on true-words, wrought from the substance of my higher nature and free from the leaded weights of the human condition. It is a thing for which I am most thankful to my own Self for it’s perseverance and fortitude on the long Journey Home.

It has been a lonely road. One of isolation and demanded endurance, where many times I begged God to release me with the sweet silence of death. Love was barely present within my field, and for many years I was not graced with the wonder of true companionship nor the resonance of achievement within the incarnate plane. I hated it. Hated the nature of Self, finding small glimpses of appreciation for the human condition in the vast Gifts I have been allowed to bring with me from the discarnate into the clay of the Earth plane. Many times I considered, if I lived a life replete with Love, I would have evolved in a completely different way. If I had been treated with kindness and care, I would not have developed the armour that protected and then imprisoned my Heart in the fullness of time. Yet neither would the sword of my discernment be so very sharp, for the easement of Love without Clarity is a trap within itself. For a long time I feared the suffering would never end, that I would be trapped in a mortal shell bereft of the clarity it needed to survive, empty of love for this place of forms and repetition. And as I sit here, scrawling my thoughts, at last clarified to whole, I consider the ache within my chest. The sadness that so often fills me. The longing, to go Home. To be free of this absence of Love, of nurturing community, of a companion and lover that truly meets me in shared adventure.

I don’t judge myself for this, for I have long-ago learned that judgment serves no bright purpose, only agitating the subtle waters that lay beneath the surface of the skin. In truth, I am proud of my Self, for doing a nigh-impossible thing, building a bridge between the octaves of the consciousness of this plane in service to the Presence. I have done well, facing the storms of confusion and chaos that define our Ascension with a metered gaze, slowly but surely repairing the shards of my own broken mirror that I may see my Self once more in the light. I am proud of this, though not prideful, at least so far as I can see my own reflection.

Yet there has not been Love. And to live without that luminance is to be dead inside. To have a heart that beats a singular rhythm, wishing to feel a true ardour for the human condition. I have attained Clarity, to be sure, yet with that clarity comes the revelation of what has been missing, buried for so very long beneath the trials and tribulations of the mortal plane. I want to Love. I need to Love. Such is the balance to the razor of my discernment, that I feel, that I experience the radiant glow that is God’s true nature for the Creation.

I want to, yet do not know how, for the vibrations of this place disturb me, demanding constant acceptance and discipline. While some conversations are truly inspiring, most are not, mere repetitions of mundane reaction reaching for the sky. I feel as though I am caught in a sea of prosaic circumstance, a beacon of bright awareness in a grey World. And while I appreciate and will accomplish the duty and privilege of bringing the Gift of such revelation to the people, I fear the prospect of a broken and dissapointed heart longing for release from it’s perceived imprisonment in the cradle of flesh.

Yet how to love this place? How to generate this feeling for that which has disappointed me so very much? How to conjure such an effervescence, balancing out the Clarity of my Sword with the softness of the Cup? As of this writing, I do not know. I take walks in the forest, breathing in the air, trying to convince myself that it can be better. I focus attention into my Heart, giving my Self love for the virtue of it’s accomplishments. I do inner work to forgive what we are demanded to forgive, in effort to make the circumstances transform.

Such is not a thing I wish advice for, but rather to perceive directly, through my own sovereign relationship with God. I have no more patience for the well-intentioned yet oft-confused vibrations of others, and would rather find such answers without the proxy of ‘another person’. It is a thing I pray for, for without Love, without it’s manifestation in my field, there is only duty, and the longed-for release from the human condition in the silence and peacefulness of death.

 

 

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