For What It’s Worth

A warrior does not give up what he loves, he finds love in what he does.

The warrior stands rebellious, graphite sword in hand, contemplating over a cosmic plain.  Below him or her is a spinning sphere full of trials, tribulations, threatening adversaries, and tempting shortcuts.  Across the plain rises a mountain called mentality, full of promise but harboring a myriad of challenges.  On the other side of the mountain awaits something of which they are not exactly sure.  Could it be valor, transcendence, illumination, possibly enlightenment?  Or perhaps something more sinister hides behind the mountain in the shallow shadowed valleys below.     

All he or she knows is that they must carve a chivalrous path through life’s uneven landscape and scale the mountain, leading the way for those who seek something better on the other side.  They must guide with empathy and compassion through the shades of peril that lay ahead.  They know that death is an option from which they cannot opt out of.  They are very aware that survival could escape them, but they are prepared and are capable of leading those they love to safety regardless of their own well-being.  But they are also confident and their spirits can barely contain themselves.

Follow Your Heart

The warrior wears their heart as a shield, protecting what they love from the evil that lurks in the dusk of fear.  They defy the nightmares of deceit, false belief, and the judgments that create suffering and false happiness.  It is a war that once was waged within their own hearts and minds.  They stare fear in the eye with an awareness that the inner conflict of adversity has already taught them.  They know that truth, divinity, and unconditional love are what lie ahead on the other side of fear.  They know what is at stake and it is more important than anything else to them.  It is Freedom.  Or call it cerebral liberty if you will.

The warrior breathes benevolence for what they wish to protect, in this case, the reverence of love, and freedom of the mind.  Their tears are hidden behind their eyes, for it is love, not hate, which motivates.  They acknowledge that bravery comes in the presence of fear and not in its absence. Afraid or not, they keep emotional arousal at bay and instead use its energy to finish the task at hand.  They are confident in their skills of struggle and that conceit is an exploitable weakness.  They feel everything that everyone does, but answer otherwise.  Their commitment to peace and harmony is deeper than any river they have ever crossed.  It is what they live, love, fight, die, and write for. 

The warrior knows that in order to win the war against fear, they require awareness, valor, discipline, and promise in order to transform the emotional body of the whole.  They know their inner strength is a weapon but how it is used depends on their hearts and minds, and of course their soul. 

Be Aware

Awareness is the most vital tool of a warrior.  We often think we are aware but to be purely aware does not involve thinking whatsoever.  Awareness is unpolluted because there is no interpretation to the thinking process.  To be aware means that we perceive with clarity the truth of what is happening in the present without opinion.  In a moment of pure awareness the dialogue in our mind stops.  We see from a point of view separate from the scrutiny of our mind.  It is in the awareness of an epiphany that balance finds its way beneath the warrior’s footing, balance being extremely important, as we will discuss later on as we stumble down this road. 

Awareness is essential because it is a state of consciousness that allows us to discern between the facts and the truth, and between the story and the lies in our mind.  Our mind is filled with false perceptions and false beliefs.  The mind is crafty, but it is also full of assumptions and limited patterns of perception, it is easily fed with distraction. 

Self-awareness is the clarity to know who and what you are, and not become so entangled in the image of yourself.  Your self-image that is your utmost distraction will often misrepresent the sense of who you really are.  False internal images can lead you to lower self-esteem and self-confidence, or they can lead to being self-centered. 

Mind Your Head

If you have an idea of who you are, then contemplate that you are not that idea in your mind.  You are the one creating and discerning it.  When you become aware that the images of self that you hold in your mind are nothing but illusion, you recognize the essence of freeing yourself from self-importance.

The warrior has the courage to question his or her own beliefs.  By challenging our own beliefs, we begin to recognize the lies that cause our own suffering.  To challenge our own beliefs requires courage because it is a means to the end of the illusion of safety.  A warrior learns not to defend what we believe, but to challenge those very beliefs ourselves.  It is in this way that we are able to sort the truth from illusion.

Discipline is of the utmost importance in the spirit of a warrior.  Discipline is stringent upon staying the course when faced with the inward challenges of the mind.  A warrior must have the discipline to continue to practice against his or her own mind, without any outside motivation.  They must exercise their own free will at the command of their heart without outward representation.  This often means going against the fearful opinions in our minds that allure us with patterned illusions of both punishment and reward.  They must also carry close the discipline to follow their heart when tempted by judgment.

Love Yourself

The warrior must commit to self-love.  They can then extend that love amongst others, as well as humanity.  Self-commitment is required because along the journey we are certain to fall many times.  It is with strong commitment that the warrior gets back up again.  It is common to fall upon the fleeting judgment of others.  It is easy to love some people, particularly those who treat us with mutual respect.  However, it requires an incredible commitment to love in the face of those who reject us.  This commitment will challenge us.  It will challenge our beliefs about our own judgments, while teaching us that pure compassion is the only defense required. 

The warrior is committed to love beyond their own self-serving interests and what it will bring them.  This is how we become happy past our own paradigm of longing.  Over time, we become committed to love for the sheer enjoyment of expressing love.  This is what the spirit of a warrior lives for, to love.  They nourish themselves with the love they express.  A warrior will always express their love, even when challenged. 

The warrior always expects the best from themselves.  They may not always overcome everything they are faced with, but it is with certainty that they will give it their all to rise above failure.  They will make the best of every situation and seek to unleash their greatest potential even if they do have to dip into the madness of their own mind.  They expect to set the example of what it takes to lead and inspire others, no matter how close to the edge they take themselves.  Therefore, they must be ready, willing, and able to carry the burden, even when lost in the arid desert of their mind.   

A warrior understands that they only have one life, so they treat it with reverence and fill it with those peculiar moments that make life worth living and with those they find meaningful.  Sometimes a warrior must walk away from everything he was to find out where he truly belongs.

The Takeout

But what do I know? I am not necessarily a warrior, I am just some guy who likes to write, but I believe in something much more greater and graceful than the good we are promised.  I have a vision and I believe in it with such passion, I will seek it out until the day I die.  The funny thing is that it’s right here within me.  It always has been, somewhere deep, and probably pretty damn dark.  But it is true; there is a light of faith that will always shine through.

It is in these moments when I write that I find meaning.  The means of myself seem to meet with pen and paper.  For some odd reason, I associate words with leaving a mark on the world.  I’m not sure why. I do know it is borderline brutal to be an open book in a world that barely reads anymore.  But writing allows my soul to saunter with creative experience and not wither away to the misuse of boredom’s mediocrity.  I guess it allows my mind its daily serenity and by treating every minute as a gift—with a gift—is a great way to align my life the way that I see fit. 

So, let us stop wasting these precious minutes, and start running towards those dreams.  Starting with today, go get whatever it is you wish to deserve from this life.  Or you could just continue to put it off until tomorrow, but eventually, you will have to either walk away from what it is the spiritual path demands or stare it down and give everything that you have got to get to the results that Heaven and the One Upstairs desire. 

And for what it’s worth, the warrior knows that he doesn’t have a lot to offer, but what he truly believes in is worth something, as long as he can manage to stay out of his own damn way.

–BeLove

Creative Clarity

Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to see things in a completely different way.

Creativity is a shape shifter. It is something that is not defined with pattern. It carries with it, its own mentality. One moment it takes upon itself this form, the next that. Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to see things in a completely different way. It is this bedazzling spirit that appears to all of us, yet is hard to identify its existence because there is not one of us that can agree upon what we read or saw as far as ourselves or our eyes are concerned.

Are the wielding of colors upon canvas, just as similar as paint chips and wallpaper? Is this evident of its creative existence? What about a pen versus paper, a rosebush bordered along a garden path? Yes and yes. What about the cooking up of love’s revolution? Why the hell not? Is it touching with delicate love the petals of a rose, or pulling off the Big Sweat of the swelling summer, or tying upon your line a pale morning dun because the trout see them better in the morning sun? Yes, yes, and yes. What about finding ones voice, or rearing a child towards adulthood, or better yet helping raise a nation from its prayerful knees? Hell yes.

Creativity is the tending to love like the orchard it is, finding the words that see fit. And when the cosmic thread finds its fabric, you sew the creative life that has been so graciously given to you. All of the above belong to the creative river of life. Creativity is the celestial river beneath the churning river of life, which flows from in and out of our souls.

Some say the creative life is in the living of ideas, some say it’s by doing, I believe it rests in the simplicity of being you. It is the love of something, having so much love for something—whether it be a band, a collection of words, an image, an idea, let alone be it humanity, that touches us in a way nothing else can. All that can be done to satisfy this craving is to create. It is not a matter of wanting or needing to, it is not a singular act of will; one solely must.  

The creative force flows over the spiritual terrain of our soul looking for the natural hollows, the channels that exist within us. We become basins of belief, tributaries of truth; we are the shallow pools, the serene ponds, and most important the sanctuaries of sanity.  The wild creative force flows into whatever garden bed we build for it, those we are born gifted with and those we have to dig with our own bare hands.  We don’t always have to fill them, but first we must build them.  

In lore, there is an idea that if one prepares a special spiritual place, then the creative force, or source of the soul, will hear it, sense its way to it, and call it home. Whether this force is summoned by the prayer of biblical proportions, “go forward and prepare a place for the soul” or, as in the movie Field Of Dreams in which a farmer hears a voice urging him to build a baseball stadium in the middle of midwestern nowhere USA. “If you build it they will come,” is a way of saying to prepare a place for the longevity of the creative force. It induces the soul to take the imagination to places that life could only dream of.

Once the inner river finds the estuaries and branches in our soul, our creative life fills and empties, rises and falls just like the seasons of a wilderness river. These cycles or patterns are responsible for the different climates of spiritual survival. Certain patterns of paths are the ones we must walk to get through the arid desert of the mind. Things are created; thoughts are fed, then fall back and die away, all in their own right time, over and over again. Creating one thing at any certain point in the river feeds those who come to the river, feeds those far downstream, yet even others in the deepest pools of imagination.

Creating is not a solitary moment. This is the clarity of creativity. This is its power. Whatever is touched by it, whoever hears it, whomever tasted its ingredients with the perfect balance, they sense it, they see it, and they are fed by it. This is why beholding someone else’s creative words, imageS, or ideas fills us up, and inspires us to do our own creative work. A single creative deed has the budding potential to feed this starving world. One single creative act can cause a river’s torrent to carve through miles of stubborn stone.

I have always thought of the following song’s inspiration as being that of creativity, more so necessarily than that of female persuasion. See you all soon. Thanks for stopping by.

—BeLove

Creating Liberty

Creativity is a wild mind with a wandering eye that carries the torch of the soul.

What I want to do is to write well.  This feeling goes back to my early eccentric sense of existence—sunk in the glassy gravities of life—fumbling around for thrilling desperations of wisdom and knowledge.  I have long been keen and aware of painted veils, of God, of domes with stained glass tinting the white radiance of eternity, quivering in the intense delight of divinity and so on.  I have carried quite the nutty charm of all things since I was boy frolicking through the fields of mind-expanding growth, just on the other side of the past underneath the Cosmos of my adolescence.

The Forest Of My Youth.

Why I Write

It was underneath the stars of a sweat-filled southern summer night, many moons ago that creativity first started to drip through my soul.  The thoughts I thought were worth putting on paper.  Now here we are twenty some odd years later, going through the same motions, on a much larger scale rather than just some dusty old notebook.  Which by the way I still have.  This is why I write, well to write well, and just as well, it does help to give me a sense of liberty in a time when liberty is limping on its last leg.

If a writer is so guarded that he never writes anything that cannot be criticized, he will never write anything that can be read.  If you want to help other people you have got to make up your mind to write things that some men will condemn.  

If you write for God you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men—you may make a pretty penny, you may give someone a hint of joy, and you may make a bit of an uproar in the world, if only for a little while.  If you write for yourself you can read what you yourself have written and after five agonizing minutes you may become so disgusted that you wish your creative side dead.

A Touch Of Creativity

Creativity has this marvelous touch that feels of flattery and laughs with liberty, all the while coalesced with subtle hints of courage.  As of recently, my mind has come to find that it is only truly fed with joy, when thinking about and creating all things eternal and infinite.  This is why I am satisfied to sit here thinking all day long about God, creativity, and the purity of love. And why I have decided to leave my own hell by the wayside of time.

The awakening of creative energy is inner liberation from pain and is accompanied by a sense of freedom. Creativity is the way of liberty. Creativity is a way out of your own hell.  Liberty cannot result in inner emptiness—it is not merely liberty from something but it is also liberty for the sake of something. And this “for the sake of something” is creativity in its purest form.

Creativity is one of the highest forms of consciousness, and at the same time it spills from the fountain of eternal youth.  Creativity is the youth of the soul and its power is bound up with the soul’s virginity. 

A Gift From & For God   

Creativity cannot be aimless and objectless.  It is an ascent and therefore supposes loftiness, which means creativity rises from the world to God.  It does not move along a flat surface in endless time but ascends with eternity. Every creative act of ours is in relation to other people—an act of love, of pity, of helping others to heal, of peacemaking. Not only does it have a future but also it is eternal.

The greatest secret of existence is the satisfaction that is not felt by those who make demands and sacrifices, but by those who give and make sacrifices in the realm of creativity. In those people alone the energy of delight and life does not fail, and this is the precise meaning of creativity. 

This is where I failed recently, my cockiness got the best of my creativity and I almost flushed everything I had built down the toilet of doubt.  I do consider myself lucky that after praying, God wouldn’t allow me to treat myself with such atrocities that spawned from the slavery of my own mind. I’m not sure why I felt the need to ruin it all, but I also haven’t the time to recollect it all.  In short, it could be chalked up to an inner dividedness.  I did abandon myself to my own devices instead of leaving things up to God.   

Liberty Of Love

Creativity is meant to push forward, so let us move north towards positivity.  The positive mystery of life is to be found in love, in sacrificing, giving, and creating love.  All creativity is love and all love is creative.  If you want to receive, then give.  If you want to obtain satisfaction, do not seek validation, never think of it again and forget the word altogether.  If you want your words to acquire the potency to make a difference in the world, manifest those words, and pass them on to others.

We are all skeptic with this idea that love is an emotion only felt between two people.  But love is a universal energy, a catching force handed down from the grace of God’s gift to us all, that being creativity. To be grateful, to hope, to believe, to be forgiving and to have faith in the path that lay ahead, is to accept God’s love and carry it in your soul, whole-heartedly and creatively.  This is the liberty of love in its purest form within life and the everlasting pursuit of happiness.  And we see this in the following scripture. 

“Am I not free to do what I please”

Matthew 20:15

Are these not Christ’s words? It seems that they, too, contain the secret of all joy, because there is no joy without liberty and these words contain the truth that make us free to love unconditionally and creatively.  To accept them for what they justly mean is to enter into the infinite liberty of God. To acknowledge these words is to love them and live by them.  To truly accept them is to love One and to love all.

The Creative Spirit 

Where the Spirit of God is, there is liberty.  Where there is liberty, there is the Spirit of God and grace.  Grace acts upon liberty and cannot act upon anything else. The enslaved mind cannot receive grace and grace will not affect it.  The enslaved mind will recognize liberty but only for the sake of urging it into the obedience of manmade law, and not in any way staying obedient to the law of His cosmic dance.

Liberty, then, is a talent given to us by God and not by man.  Liberty is an instrument of creativity to work with.  It is the tool with which we build our own lives with His freedom, and our own happiness.  Our true liberty is something that must never be sacrificed, for if we sacrifice it we renounce God himself.  As much as I would like to attack the current state of society on certain things pertaining to liberal beliefs I have chosen not to succumb to that impulse because the message of this post speaks loud and clear.

It is only the false spontaneity of impulse, the pseudo liberty of sin that is to be sacrificed.  Our true liberty must be defended with life itself for it is the most precious element in our being.  It is through liberty that God created us, constituted in His divine image of creation.

The truth is plain to see if you look with open eyes.

We may say with certainty that creativity is life-in-itself, and so is love, as is the contemplation of God and the spiritual world.  Creativity is a wild mind with a wandering eye that carries the torch of the soul.

In the end love laughs at all that is temporal through creativity, because pure love is the doorstep to eternity, and he who loves without condition is knocking on the door that leads to God and His eternal promise, and before anything can happen to him, God will have already drawn him over the sill to Heaven and closed the door behind him and he won’t bother to worry about the wilderness burning on the other side of himself because he knows nothing but love.

—BeLove

Written Confession

If I am to be a writer or a poet, I must always put on paper what I have become.

It may sound simple, but it is no easy task.

Hello.  First, let me thank you for stopping by.  Now where were we?  

I wrote the last post because I wanted to prove that we all have doubt.  Doubt in ourselves, doubt in God from time to time.  Hell, I have doubted God and myself most of my life. This doubt is similar to smoke, it will cloud your judgment of yourself, cloud your thoughts, cloud God’s purpose and His will for you.  

This smoke-filled doubt seems to be the absence of God.  Yet, God is still very much around.  He has just chosen to seem absent. But through the fog there is always a light and it burns within you, and it is God. You see he isn’t absent; those clouded thoughts are just the absence of faith.  I will now share with you why I believe this to be true.

Speak The Truth

My last post almost didn’t happen.  I was close to throwing in the towel when it came to writing again.  I almost put the pen down for good this time.  I was in a bad spot over the past week and a half.  It was all self-imposed from my obtrusive ego.  My head had swollen past the point of no return.  I wanted to quit writing out of pure defiance

Keep going.

The renewal date for this blog was coming up and I said to myself, just let it all go, just let it collapse like everything else in your life.  Sit back and “maybe” write the book and forget about the message while allowing mayhem to take the checkered flag from motivation.  My heart and soul were both vitally exhausted from moving constant in opposite directions of each other trying like hell to keep up with my mind.  

Don’t Doubt

And you know why? Because I doubted everything, and when I chose to do that I doubted Him.  I didn’t pray deeply for a business week worth of days, I didn’t get lost in the gardens of scripture for an extended duration.  I walked away towards the darkness of insolence from the path He had laid with the light of deliverance.  My soul had succumbed to the selfishness of pride.  

So come Monday morning, my day off, I awoke and I made it a point to speak loud and clear to the emptiness around me.  I spoke at length with Him about my dependence of Him, I begged for His mercy. And as I said before, when talking to myself, I have come to find that I am lot happier rather than listening to myself. 

So the day went it’s way and things were happy.  The kid and I played and created to his heart’s delight.  I was asked a million and one questions.  That plus one, was the best one yet.  “So Dad, did you know that God made me?” My soul stood silent and looked above and through the flesh, we winked and then I looked to him and all I could do was smile and reply, “Yes.”  

A creative mind is of a thriving kind.  All his idea. 

The following morning in the same empty room, I repeated my need for Him and His mercy, but this time I promised to start seeing the grace in all things as opposed to their shortcomings. The reason because spawned from my child’s question.  

Feeling Grace

This is something that we all do, instead of seeing the grace in something we look for the fault.  For instance, you have a child who has asked you the most mind-numbing but silly questions about farts and chickens all morning but then by the grace of God and who he really is, He reels you in to a place you have never been, a peace you’ve never felt.  That’s not just seeing, but feeling the grace of Him in all things.  

That night after the kid had gone to his mother’s house.  I was still going to quit, so I echoed my merciful dependence for Him, but this time I asked Him to give me the strength to see His will through, to allow me to see the grace of my surroundings.  I then picked up the bible and turned to Job.  Before I knew it the pen had found its way back into my hand. The words were written as follows the scripture.

He speaks in dreams, in visions of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they lie in their beds.  

Job 33 : 15

And again the words they spilled from my flooded soul.  

Where I call home.


Allow God To Move Through You

These shades of mountain they glow beneath Your crescent moon, these stars they sprinkle my sight with a grace that shimmers of You.  And here You are moving through me with Your capricious wind, showing me what I should do.  Winter is in full force, and Your skies have been so grey, but every evening the inversion burns off and there You are so bright and beautiful.  This darkness and its significant other, that our flesh calls faith, is something we should forever see the light in.  So in the darkness of my doubt, let’s give them something to talk about.

Sometimes I feel that I should quit writing altogether, as some sort of gesture poised defiant.  In any case, I hope to stop thinking so much, because it has become impossible for me to stop writing altogether.  There is no way I can stop now, these words they help to heal, and it is possible that it is not only me.  Perhaps I will I write until death, and maybe even longer. Maybe I’ll write while in purgatory, except that I hope You and I can arrange some miraculous last inning heroics over my sins, and we shall leave purgatory in its own dugout, while you and I celebrate beneath fountains of champagne.  

And it seems to me that writing is not an obstacle in front of spiritual perfection in my own life, but sometimes it seems to have become conditional on which my perfection depends. Such is the mind of a poet.  If I am to be a writer or a poet, I must always put on paper what I have become. It may sound simple, but it is no easy task.  

To be a good person, and to remain myself, and to write about it:  to put myself down on paper, and now upon the world wide web, in such a situation, with simplicity and integrity, masking nothing, confusing no issue: this is difficult, because I am at times mixed up with illusion and attachment.  These too must be written, but how?  Without exaggeration, repetition, and useless emphasis.  That’s how.  No need for howling through the ears of anyone but You, who will always see the depth of my foolishness.  To be frank without boring You, it is kind of a crucifixion.  It requires so much honesty that is beyond my nature.  So let it be said, it must come from You.

Amen. 

The results of God moving through us are more or less a transparent holiness through the lens of Him. Creativity is the very act of God moving through man.  By living, praying and writing in the light of God, I have lost myself entirely by becoming public domain via Him.  

If you take anything away from this post, let it be as follows.  

We are all lost the majority of our lives, most of us have evolved to ignore our purpose and have become akin to just existing.  I was one of those people and I almost was again.  But believe me, we are here for the purpose of making the world a better place, via love, faith, and most of all hope through God.  

Within each and every one of us is a place called Calvary and the mind within it, has the ability to be and believe in whatever it wants to.  But the resource of abundant life has masked itself as debt and suffering, when true wealth has forever been funded by faith in God. 

This is why creativity is the most important natural resource that God has ever given us.  

And then they were whole—welcome back soul. 

-BeLove    

 

Dirty Laundry

The point of writing my name to you is that I see who you are, you see who I am…and that’s what it’s about.

Here is but a post that is two years overdue, call it an extended bio if you choose.  And it is true, today marks the second anniversary of the beginning of this little creative outpost.  The point of writing my name to you is that I see who you are, you see who I am…and that’s what it’s about.

My name is Ryan Love. I am 41 years young. My nickname is Buddy out west and Bubba back home, hence the Be. Home being the hidden, paradoxical beauty of Alabama. I now live just down a mountain pass from the majestic splendor of Lake Tahoe in beautiful Carson Valley, Nevada.  I moved out West sixteen years ago today as well.  

A loving and God-fearing family raised me.  My mother, bless her soul, with her ability to harness all of our shit, mainly mine, still amazes me.   Though my siblings are significantly younger, we have managed to stay close, even with the age difference and me being so far away from home.

My beautiful family just outside of Yellowstone.

I am a single dad to a four-year-old son walking away from a collapsed marriage that I had a strong hand in tearing down. Now I am finding my purpose through God.  I am learning how to live alone with Him half the week, the other half I am trying to be the best father to him that I can be. 

I was once considered an alcoholic—I for one may not have been, but then again that’s what I perceive from within. I was always one to skirt the idea of moderation, and that is in itself a glaring sign of alcoholism. As I stand today, without staggering, I have almost learned how to master my self-control, ‘tis but the season though, for loneliness to creep up on the right thing to do.  

Nowadays I am a Chef in the casino industry, so temptation does flirt with me on a nightly basis, and it is quite the task shaking myself loose from it on those Friday nights when the adrenaline drip is more or less at a steady stream. But the beast within has found purpose and unity with God especially when he gets to push around this pen.  And it is true that once I let the wolf in, he has become my greatest teacher.  

I first realized that I had a knack for writing when I was in Journalism back in high school—many, many moons ago. I covered the sports beat for the high school paper because I was a bit of a jock and I could spell, which back in those days didn’t always go hand in hand.  But then I started to dabble with illegal substances and my dream of making it to the big leagues of life and baseball fell apart.  As much as I said no to drugs, they never listened.  So let me be a lesson, don’t do drugs.  

When not working, my hobbies include writing, reading, snowboarding, exploring God in the wilderness around me, photography, fly-fishing, and creating memories and art with my child.

The weight of the world on my shoulders.

I have questioned authority at every crossroad in my life. I have always said that I knew the rules but the rules did not know me. This sometimes breathes true even today. I have those who have egged me on, and of course myself.  One could say my friends and I were nothing but a bunch of heathens, such is adolescence I guess. But we have a bond between us that will last a lifetime and maybe more.  A bond that will never be broken.  

I tried my hand at college, but much to no avail because I was too smart for school. Oh good ole fashioned hindsight. It’s worth the mention that I do not regret a damn thing, well maybe one or two things, but that’s neither here nor there. The memories that haven’t faded are still as precious to me as the moment they were created.

Then I fell head over heels in love with a girl. Sure I’d been through the ringer with cherry-popping puppy loves, but this one touched my soul. Next came the heartbreak and the words they rained like poetic tears from the depths of my being. These words were not very well situated in the lyrical sense, still debatable whether they are nowadays. Nonetheless, my soul had finally come to the center stage of me. Then it vanished for a long time, the beast, my ego came front and center, with no intent on feeding the soul. 

Opening up my soul. 

In the midst of my efforts of dealing with heartbreak, higher learning, hallucinogenics, and a Pink Floyd obsession, I started writing in the sense of reality. I fell in love with the Beat Generation: Kerouac, Ginsberg, Cassady, and di Prima.  They were all so transcendental and unique, with all of the philosophical and Zen undertones it was hard to not fall in love with them. Then I read “On The Road” by Kerouac and my soul fell sick with the travel bug. I traveled far and wide looking for a home away from home.  

At this stage in my life I considered myself agnostic. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe, as much as I didn’t want to believe one way or another, sort of like taking the high road. And I really to this day do not know why. Sure I had a sturdy moral compass that would fall out of whack from time to time, but for some reason my ego thought intellect was more reasonable than God.  More on this down the road.

The Fountain Of Youth. Lake Tahoe. Surrounded by little hints of Heaven.


Then came my second taste of spiritual awakening, or maybe it was a crisis, maybe both are one in the same. Who knows? It was in 2008. I took some classes at the local community college, and finally got around to reading “Heart Of Darkness” and I became consumed with the elements of good and evil within man. I couldn’t stop writing.  My writing evolved at a rapid rate this time around.  Something was opening up within me. 

From here I turned to an infatuation with the Donner Party, so much so that I wrote a screenplay about it. The chaos, the demons of hunger, the capability of what man would do to survive blew my mind wide open. The events that surrounded that winter of 1847, made my mind move in directions it never had, what if we were living in Hell?

This is when I first felt a newfound purpose through my own doubt and God made sure that I felt Him as he started coursing through my veins.

As soon as my soul would bark back, the beast would only tighten his grip, choking the life out of my softness. Then I gave up my passion of writing because my head was swelling instead of moving in linear directions. The beast couldn’t handle it without the soul, and didn’t feel the need to collaborate.  And I was still questioning God and his antics. From there I put down the pen and decided to focus on my career as a Chef, being a Chef feeds the ego.

Then came 2016, my child was two and a half. God had very much proved his existence through the eyes of my child.  But I became sick at the hate that was dividing our blessed country in half. And yes I sort of blamed God.  This is when I first felt a newfound purpose through my own doubt and God made sure that I felt Him as he started coursing through my veins.

The reason why I will never give up on Love or my dreams.

I could no longer stand pat within the herds of ignorance and mediocrity. I felt that maybe my way with words could plant seeds that would bloom into hope and salvation, something that made love seem not so distraught and grow into something more beautiful than the world had ever seen.  After all what a man sees in the world, he carries in his heart.

Then came a vessel out of nowhere that showed me the true light of God’s work. This vessel gave flight to a new me, and readjusted my system of beliefs. I felt a creative spark that I had never knew existed. Sure being a Chef came with avenues upon avenues of creative effort, from managing different personalities, to creating specials, to setting the standards for the simplicity of a kitchen’s flow. But something was different with this creative spark from writing, to photography; my soul had found its home within the walls of creative gusto.

Always looking for God’s light through the lens of all things.

I have come to find it humbling that the wilderness within the eighteen inches from my head to my heart is the purpose of my journey in life. And I am humbled that you all still listen.  And I have learned that I am much happier talking to myself, rather than listening to myself.  Try it.  It works.

 

 It is in the darkness of faith at the foot of the cross that the light will always flicker.


Now here I am still fighting my inner demons, trying my damndest to keep the beast on a leash, hoping to mind my head, and surrender my heart to the power of God’s Love, and just maybe the consistency of me watering my own seed through prayer and devotion will breathe consistent with my purpose while these words with their rooted message of hope, love, and faith for all mankind shall forever spring from the bottom of my heart.  And now every day I awake by acknowledging my dependence for God above and my need for His mercy. 

Recently I was saved at my family church back home, but I still have a long and winding path ahead. It is in the darkness of faith at the foot of the cross that the light will always flicker.  And the reason why I feel this way is as follows.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Every time we look at the cross Christ seems to say, “I am here because of you, your sin, your curse, your debt, your death, I am here for you.  Nothing in the universe cuts us down to size like the cross.  We all have self-inflated views of ourselves, especially in the self-righteous state, until we have visited a place called Calvary. It is there at the foot of the cross, that we shrink to our true size.” If anything speaks the truth it starts with minding your head.

One more thing you may not have known about me. This band Widespread Panic, they are very much a part of me, I have traveled all corners of this land to see them, I have made friends of a lifetime through the most hospitable scene behind a traveling circus of music.  And even though panic is the one thing that is widespread in this world, it is an honest tune with a lingering lead that has taken me this far, and will always leave me wondering. 

This is a story of me. And who knows maybe you may come to find out a little about yourself as I find me.  

Godspeed.

-BeLove

A Prayer Wild

The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the song of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3 : 8

High noon has long passed and I can feel the winds of twilight move through my soul.  I imagine it moves through me much the same as He moved through the first evening of creation.  The freedom of desolation that pours from my heart comes to find itself filled with His Spirit, and once again the Holy Ghost and I walk together beneath a setting sun leaving even Him smitten.

I stare in awe at the pastel lit sky and speak silent again.

As the darkness approaches, please allow me to bask in this higher light of you before I lose myself in this wilderness I call home.  I know that within You there is a light that I have yet to fathom, because there is no known knowledge of the light you truly exude upon a lost soul.  Yet what I feel seems so very real.

I understand that what you truly offer cannot be pinned down to any certain concept that I have complete knowledge of.  I do know that within the scripted garden of Your Word, I feel a peace within me I never knew existed, and for that I can’t acknowledge you enough.  It is also through the potency of prayer that I am starting to touch my dreams with my own two hands.

The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the song of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3 : 8

And as my hands cinch together with dovetail technique, I wish to truly encounter You as this darkness washes over the landscape of me.  In the simplicity of You, I see a light that isn’t bound by a medium in which channels us as one.

For there is no explanation of You, when the experience of You is all that I need to feel as You quietly testify Your love for me.  We are one; we have always been one, even though I didn’t see that until recently, and for that I hope You carry no hard feelings.

Yet it is in the union of Your light and my soul that I see a path start to clear; with You leading the way to the aforementioned Promised Land with the Spirit Of Christ in tow. The Son, Your only Son, that You suffered with grace through sacrifice—not just for You and I—but for all souls.

And for that I truly hope that all understand the truth in the meaning of sacrifice, because I don’t think that most have a firm grasp on what it means to truly sacrifice.  After all, everybody wants to go to Heaven to see You but nobody wants to die.  But let us speak on a deeper level of the Paradise that awaits further down this road.

It is in the simplicity of You, where all that is trivial in this life, becomes coherent in the uncharted waters of pure bliss.  It is in us that You have chosen to dwell and as for those of us who understand the simplicity of Your presence, let us forever imitate the Love of You. Whether that is via avenues of creativity or through the worship of your Gospel when testifying to You moving within us depends entirely upon which room you decide to carry us into.

But for those who don’t understand the depths of Your Love, please prepare them for the beast at bay, because you know as well as I do. Actually you know better than I do.  He is sitting back waiting to howl, scoping the battlegrounds, hunting down the hate—with none other than the presence of Your Love pouring into his heart.

And yes it is true, that in the sight of You, I know my purpose is trivial, but it is my purpose, You put it there, so as I have fallen so many times before, You have picked me up, and placed me where I needed to be.  I plead with You now to allow me the time, the inner peace, and the fashion to allow You to move through me in Your own way.  As I am awakening in You, and You in me, let us turn each other inside out, making this emptiness fill itself with the wisdom of Your vision and the purity of You—while giving them all a glimpse of Your cosmic dance.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29 : 11

Yet the fact does remain that You invite us to forget ourselves on purpose—to cast upon us a dreadful gravity that ascends upon Your wind and join You in the dance.  And now I see that it is our one true and upright purpose to continually seek You in all aspects of life.  And because of that I will forever testify in Your name.  And I thank you for showing me the light looming in this wilderness of me.  Amen.

Yours Truly,

BeLove


Taking Root

Every man must act in the rhythm of his time. Such is wisdom.

A newfound knowledge has opened these windows of my mind.  Meanwhile drafts of wisdom flow through them like an autumn wind—fragments of the old me sneak through the same window—seeking freedom from self-inflicted suffering.

My eyes gaze upon the infinite splendor of a midnight western sky and I bow my head, speaking hushed.

How is a man supposed to make sense out of his existence when doubt runs rampant all around him? How can he find authentic meaning by simply embracing a certain criteria of explanation—which professes to show him the ways and means of this world?

Perhaps, this is why in my self-contained state that I search these woods within me, like an eternal explorer.  Seeking what I can’t find until the end of my time.  And if you wouldn’t mind, let us take a little bit of time to get through this wilderness of mine?

I feel that I should further venture towards the shadier side of this wilderness—my soul—where the wolf waits, howling with the moon.   And it is true that “herded” men fear and industriously avoid the shadows of their own darkness.

But I am confident that with the presence of You within, that the “I” of me will find some harmony in the fragments of my being.  And it is with You at my side, that I am no ordinary man, for that alone, I do not fear the darkness in me.

It is true the worst thing a man can do when divvied up into a couple of different compartments is to seal off certain compartments from one another.  If it is felt that one is more essential than the other, then one will practice with mental prowess in trying to keep the hidden beast at bay.  This is what happens when deep reflection pushes itself in the direction of an unwise and distracted man.  To contemplate when divvied up refracts instead of reflects.

The first thing that must be done before falling into a contemplative state is to coerce your natural unity back into totality.  It is of the utmost importance to reintegrate the compartments of your fragmented being into another kind of alliance altogether.  This is when we allow our dual nature the chance at feeling the manifested presence of God within us.  Then and only then is our being wholly aligned with that of the Spirit.

The presence of God in His world as its Creator depends on no one but Him.  His presence as “I” perceive—is in the strength that I carry to harness my own beast within.  Therefore these fragments of me and “I” can find harmonious balance in His grace.

There isn’t a thing we can do to change the enigma of our existence, except live in the harmony of happiness and feel the presence of God within ourselves daily.  We are able to decide whether we ourselves, and the portion of the world, which is ours, shall become aware of His presence, thrive in it, become consecrated by it, and reshaped by its light.

In life we have the choice of two identities:  the external mask which at times seems to be real and which lives in an autonomous shadow for a brief moment of experience.  But it is the hidden, inner being, which seems to us to be nothing. But it’s that being that gives himself eternally to the truth in whom he subsists.  It is this inner self that is taken up into the mystery Of Christ, by His love, by the Holy Spirit, so that in secret we live “in Christ.”

There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

Ephesians 4 : 4-6

As I come to below Your night sky, I do feel that you have called upon me to help understand that explanation of You isn’t always sufficed—yet it is through the experience of You—where these lessons really move.  And it is nice to that we have started to claw at the surface of “I”, but we both know that we have a long way to go.

And the wolf—this beast in me—I now understand, is just one of the many ways you’ve chosen to speak through the fragments of me.  But for now I must catch a plane back to my roots. Yes there are some things that were buried long ago that You and I must dig up, so the seed will come full circle, and this relationship we are building will finally take its root.  Talk to you soon, Big Guy.

-BeLove


Loving Purpose

I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted.

Job 42 : 2

A man knows he has found his purpose in life when he stops thinking about how to live and just thrives at being alive.

If one is called to be a writer or a poet—he will stop pondering how to write with beauty and just feel an inner harmony within himself as he moves into his creative state of being.  But if one is not called to be a writer or a poet, the harder he tries to force his creative hand, the farther he strays from his true nature.

He will then worry with constancy about how to write with beauty and in the process, he will forget altogether how to write in harmony.  He is then left to scratch his head in disbelief as to what his life is meant to be.

When we do not live up to, or find our true purpose in life, distracting thought devours our daily routine. Thoughts begin to act as an alternative for true meaning, pulling us farther away from the reality of living our truest life.  We then begin to think so much that it overruns our life and from there we drown into the depths of overthinking.

It is while we are drowning in the depths of our own metaphors that the voice of our conscious starts to mumble incoherent.  But as we rise to the surface gasping for air, the voice becomes crystal clear—and in the fullness of time—the answers that we seek arrive bound with astonishment.

And suppose one has finally found wholeness in his true purpose.  He starts to see his life living in unity with peace.  He sees all that surrounds him begin to synchronize upon the collective campaign trail of what it is God, may or may not have in store for him.  Of this though, he will never truly know.

He knows now that his work no longer pretends to be a burden upon prayer and prayer no longer a burden upon his work. He no longer views contemplation as needing to be set to the side in the void of his own silence.  He no longer feels the need to be removed from the herded “state” of society to find himself because he now knows that God penetrates all.

He no longer wishes to account for himself, or anyone else, except for his child, but he is sure that his child is safe in the sanctuary of God’s Garden.  But the only one he must fully account for within his own self is in fact God.

And this is wherein lies the paramount of our purpose.  It is not that we wish to cease to be ordinary men, so that we are deemed warriors or saints, but that the love within our hearts can become as pure as God’s love—for God himself and for all men.  And to know that the tears that fall from our joyful or sorrowed eyes will fall like His rain, because they well up from the moving of His spirit through these hearts of ours—His children. And then you will see that the gift of goodness it grows in silence—well nourished in the scripted garden written within the Psalm of life.

May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.

Psalm 20 : 4

When we understand our purpose, the purpose of His Will, love for others becomes clean and sturdy. We can reach out to them, standing upright, without vanity and without complacency, loving all creatures with the same pure and sacred gentleness of God’s love for us.

This is the purest fruit and genuine purpose of Love.

-BeLove