Free That Thought

When our thoughts and their understanding wants it, divine wisdom will flow like the wind through us.

The edge of the forest follows a row of hills in a line so straight it looks as if it has been drawn with a ruler’s perfect measure from Heaven above. Off in the distance sits something like a crumpling wad of evergreen construction paper. All I could make out of it was a vast and wild thicket of trees.

The branches shone with dullness in the sun all the way up to that point, where they disappeared into the infinite green. It seemed as though the landscape would continue like this for an eternity, or however far one was willing to go. I cannot lie, the idea excited me just as much as it did in the beginning. If this was how it was going to be, then bring it home to me.

I extinguished the negativity, stretched, and placed my eyes upon the sky.  I hadn’t looked to the sky for some time. In fact, it had been awhile since my eyes rested on anything, even me.

Not a cloud was visible in the crystalline blue sky above me. A veil of fog hovered in the silent air over the wild, as often happens in the spring, like an elusive membrane waiting patiently to be infiltrated by the endless sky above. Particles of sunshine trickled down like little drops of rain, collecting itself in a puddle, going almost unnoticed on the path before me.

In the warmth of this breeze, the light, as so often before, wavered in and out.  The air flowed synchronistic with leisure, like a flock of lovebirds flying between each and every tree.  It skimmed the forest lined slopes along the edge, crossing the path, and passing through the groves of me without so much as ruffling a leaf.  

A crow’s sharp cry cut through the gentle morning like an arrow, and disappeared over the ridge. The undulating mountainous wild ahead resembled a giant sleeping beast, cozied up with the warmth of infinity.

Suddenly I felt the sharpness of death from the pain in my feet, they were exhausted, and it was only growing worse.  

Or was it?

JUST A THOUGHT

It was then I decided to give in to the voices of my own mind speaking from within, from my own depths, and one of these voices said that there was my body, in nature, and that there was also me.  I was related to this nature through my body, but all of me was not contained to it. The same goes for said so-called pain.  It is all just a mental illusion that I am not at all contained too.  

In the mental discipline I have been practicing over the past month or so, and of which I am beginning to feel the positive effects, it is of the truth that stability and tranquility have been the practicing prerequisites in the establishment of my own peaceful thinking. 

Practicing these two things day in and day out, does allow one a promising result from will alone.  This will to better one’s way of thinking is a direct link which connects the dots of the soul to the world as-it-is.  Through practicing this mental will, the soul frees itself from the distraction of daily routine, as it delicately tunes itself to the spiritual instrument of dreams.  So please allow me a moment of fine tuning.

Thinking, the power to think and to know, is a source of freedom.  Thinking makes it obvious that spirit exists.  The physical body is a mere agent of the spirit and its mirror.  It is both an engine and a reflection of the spirit.  It is the spirit’s ingenious memorandum to itself and the spirit sees itself in my body, just as I see my own face in a looking glass.  My nerves and my illusions reflect this, much like the pain in my feet as of late.  

This earth, and all of its inhabitants are a literal mirror of thoughts, just as Heaven is a metaphysical mirror of love.  You see, in Heaven, you don’t reflect on love, you reflect it, and the tragedy with the contemporary thought is that it has forgotten how to be a mirror.

Yes it is true, we are all divine by nature, human by habit, and magnificent with glimmers as we meander towards our ultimate destination, that being death. And the habits of thinking itself is just an embodied thought, embodied by the fact of death alone.  

Death is the dark tapestry behind us that the mirror of Heaven needs in its reflection if we are to see anything through the eyes of love.  Every negative perception of an object causes a certain amount of death in us, and this darkening state is born out of death’s necessity. 

One will actually start to see the truth of this when one learns how to obtain the inward view of one’s self.  To do this, one must get out of themself and stand far off, in the contemplation of solitude and nature of our own wild. This is the only place in which genuine reflection comes.  One will then see, that death knows no mercy, and to quit worrying about every damn thing and just be.

In this life we attract the reflections of what we think. And we also attract what we judge in this life. If you worry all the time, those worries you will constantly find. If you think people are dishonest, you will attract dishonesty. If you are focused on sickness or disease, you attract more suffering. If you focus on poverty and being broke mentally, then you will gain nothing more than an endlessly empty account of the soul.

Every objective thought you hold in your consciousness becomes your cage of reality. Tune your focus upon abundance and honesty towards all, and that which you believe and see, will be. So instead try and embrace the good, embrace every little bit of love, and all the lovely and good things will come endlessly and naturally.

IN CLOSING

If there is nothing of a message in these words but some hints of egoism and its death, some illusion that my fate is being outwitted by my own self, or my own avoidance of the reality of the grave, perhaps my writing these words is not worth the trouble.  This of course, waits in the remnants of what is to be seen.  And maybe that alone is worth the trouble. 

But before we go any further, one must bear in mind the odd angles that the rays of love, faith, and light must take in order to reach a broken soul like mine, which you will find in the words I have long left behind.

It is just as well in this different perception of light, that I now understand in part, I think.  When our thoughts and their understanding wants it, divine wisdom will flow to us like the wind blows around us.

And what I mean by this, is that I have placed too much of a hidden emphasis over the years on the darkness of external things.  So now, I must deviate from said darkness, and turn my attention in the light of the right direction.  That being forward, towards the daunting mountain that looms lit ahead, and into the depths of the wild within me.

—BeLove

Soul Wax

So let us head His way
towards a brand new day.
It is there
He will seal our stamps
beneath Heaven’s oiled lamp.

The soul like a wax
waiting for its seal
only to be softened 
on the path to God’s will

A soul itself
has no identity
til it finds some warmth 
deep in His destiny.

This wax it will melt
as it reaches His hand
and so it will be
whatever He sees
as the truth of our identity
shall forever set us free.

For all souls will fall soft
as they turn to His light
cradled with a faith

which howls with the coming night.

But if a soul so lost
lives in the dark 
with no intent 
of seeking His spark
the spark it will cease
while the soul dries hard
and crumble it shall
to an arid ash 
fallen through the crease of hell

Therefore it is wise
to stand beside
His blazing fire
held by a hand and His will 
as our only desire. 

It is then

when we sit soft
a place He will prepare 
one of which 
we have never been scared.

Stay warm and oh so whole
for on the day of death—so cold
Christ will come
to carry us through 
one last breath 
on our way Home.

So let us head His way 
towards a brand new day. 
It is there
He will seal our stamps
beneath Heaven’s oiled lamp.

And please say your peace
as you leave your feet.
It’s nothing but your soul’s
divine identity 
pure bliss will forever keep.

BeLove © 2019

Plain As Hell

One little spark can set a whole wilderness on fire. Just a spark.

Let the wolf delight, to howl and to bite. For God has made him so.

—BeLove

If energy is delight and enthusiasm is beauty, the wild depressive knows more about delight and beauty than anyone else.  Who else has so much energy and exuberance?  I believe the psyche fleeces a certain strategy to increase depression. Isn’t it Freud who said, that happiness is nothing but the remission of pain? The more pain—the more intense the happiness that follows.  But there is a prior origin to this, and the psyche—it does create hell on purpose.

On Purpose

All life is, is pondering between then and now, between birth and death, seeking answers to the most influential questions.  Such brooding doesn’t always make us any saner, and some may sink into drink, when the answers they seek drive them a little too wild.  It has always been me versus madness in my life, and madness has proven much stronger over salvation.  But not this time around and I will tell you why.

All this thinking, writing, with it’s feeling sometimes seems to count for nothing. It’s naught but an attack behind the allied lines of my mind—seeking the beauty of my thoughts—and as of late the only effect is except it has worn me out.   The noble idea of being a poet or a writer has made me feel at times like a clown or a fool. Maybe humanity no longer needs art and inner miracles.  It already has so many outer ones.  

So before I can carry on with the green and lovely shades of this wilderness within, I must venture into the darkest and most arid corner of my mind.  This is the only way that I feel like I am being genuine with you all. It is true that the only way out is through.  

Sure I could fake it and pretend that all I saw was graced with gloriousness, but over the past week it hasn’t been that way for me.  I hold close with confidence that by getting this off my chest, the path will clear itself of my well-worn mind’s debris.  It is time we talk about hell.  

Horrors Of Hell

Hell is the state of the soul powerless to come out of it’s prideful self; it is absolute self-centeredness, dark and evil isolation, and the final incapacity to love.  It means to be engulfed in an agonizing moment, which yawns with the abyss of infinity, so that the pain plays repetitively in the mind, while stabbing sharp through the heart.  Hell creates and organizes the separation of the soul from God. 

Hell is not God’s action upon the soul, retributive and punitive as that action may be—it is the absence of any action of God upon the soul, the soul’s incapacity to open itself up to God’s influence and its complete severance from God.  

God’s Mercy

The horror of hell is not something inspired by thoughts that God’s judgment will be severe and merciless.  God is love and mercy, and to give one’s fate to Him means to overcome this horror. In reality the horror is to have our own fates left in our own hands.  It is not what God will do to us, but what we will do to ourselves.  Hell means that we don’t fall into the Hand of God but instead we abandon ourselves to our own devices.

Every soul is sinful and subject to darkness and cannot by its own power come into the light.   The soul will feel inclined to pass into the twilight of dreams written upon semi-existence.  Its own free efforts cannot bring it to true and being.  It is in the essence of Christianity that we see this designed by these two scriptures.

“The Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them.”

Luke 9:56

“I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.”

John 3:17

The coming of Christ should be seen as not an outward threat of judgment, but an inward recognition that salvation rests within—salvation from the hell that we have so maliciously spent our entire lives preparing for ourselves.   The coming of Christ is the turning point for the soul of man, which builds up the Kingdom of God instead of digging for the depths of hell. 

 Salvation Within

Without Christ, our Savior, the Kingdom of God is unattainable for man.  Man’s moral efforts alone do not bring him to it.  If there is no Christ and no change of heart connected with Christ, hell in some shape or form is inevitable, for man cannot help but create it.  The essence of salvation is liberation from our own hell, to which all creatures naturally gravitate.  

Hell will not come into eternity, it will remain in time, and hence it cannot be eternal.  One of the voices that howls through my soul tells me that all are doomed to hell, because all more or less doom themselves to it. But this to the fullest extent is reckoning without Christ.  The other voice that speaks from the goodness of my heart, says that all must be saved, that man’s true freedom must be enlightened from within, without any violence being done to it—and that comes through Christ and is salvation.

In the midst of this spiritual awakening, I no longer think of the devil as outside the human soul, he is engrained in it and means that it is abandoned in itself.  Christ frees the soul from the devil.  Hell, without question exists, yet it is revealed to us in experience, and it may be our own lot. Hell belongs to time and is temporal. Everything that is in time is temporal. The victory of eternity over time leaves hell and its so called powers behind.

Hell’s Intimidation

The idea of hell has been turned into an instrument of intimidation, of religious and moral terrorism. Our real horror is not in the threats of a transcendental Divine judgment, but in the immanent working out of human destiny from which all Divine action has been excluded.  The most merciless committee is that of one’s own conscious; it brings with it torments of hell, division, loss of wholeness, a fragmentary existence.  The only judgment God shall enforce upon us is a downpour of grace upon the creature. His judgment establishes true realities and makes them all secondary to the heights of Heaven, not in a permissible but a metaphysical sense.  

I now see something hideous and morally revolting in the idea of eternal torments as retribution for the sins of a short moment of life.  Eternal damnation as a result of things done in such a short period of time, known as life, is one of the most disgusting manmade nightmares.  But one thing is unquestionably true:  after death the soul rich in Christ goes on to Heaven, the soul that never believed in God’s Power goes on to some other plane of being, as it lived before birth.

The Answer Is Christ

The life in our world between birth and death is merely a crumb compared to our destiny, incomprehensible when regarded by itself, apart from the eternal purpose of a man. It is Christ alone that can conquer the horror of hell as a manifestation of the creature’s freedom. This is the last and final demand that dictates the conscious—to have the conscious and the courage to direct all the power of your creative spirit through Christ to free everyone from their own hell. And the rise of hope in this belief is the only way through this wilderness within.

Author’s Note

It has been a rough couple of weeks. My depressed mind has been taken over by the grind and has been working overtime with work and all else in between. But 2019 is going to be here in the blink of an eye and I will be spending a few days in one of my favorite places in the world, Alabama Hills, just outside of Lone Pine, California.  I have to leave town with just my camera, my tent, my bible, God, and me.  Once again, I have to find myself.  I must take this beast within and seek some holy waters for the sake of baptismal purposes.

As Christ said, the seed in the ground must die.  To be a seed in the ground of one’s very life is to dissolve into that ground in order to become fruitful.  One disappears into love, in order to “be Love”

I am finally getting somewhere with the book, so with that being said, this blog will only be posting once a week on Friday’s, starting this Friday.  Hope you all had a merry everything and have a happy always. Thanks for stopping by. Til the next time.

-BeLove

Scenic Route

There’s a lot of optimism in changing scenery, in seeing what’s down the road.

Follow me this way

where just around the corner

waits a brand new day.

It’s love that litters a road

so gold that it forever glitters

upon the most humbled of abodes.

 

It is but a place

as infinite as space

where conversation lasts

in the silence along His path.

And time it rests with essence

while innocence glows fluorescent.

 

We then come to find it filled

with wholesome laughs

that burst with joy—

from the faith that spilled

upon our feet

and what awaits is but a story

written forever sweet.

 

Yet upon the map of midnight

it must be seen that hope

—will always shine

forever in our sight

and beneath these stars

we are filled with a vibrance

built by His creative balance.

 

And all He asks

is to love all so very true.

This is but the final task

to taste the fruits

grown from a tree—a tree called life

where it grows at the end

of this long and scenic route.

BeLove © 2018


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Golden Shore

And they told him, “We came to the land to which you sent us. It flows with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.

Numbers 13 : 27

We are all but specks of dust

fallen from what lay above

left astray to find that one

to play this game they call Love.

 

Created high upon an astral plane

we dive dual—a broken flame.

Our souls but puppets

strung with glorious Grace

upon His golden shore.

This life but a stage

separated by nothing more

than the thoughts that rattle around a cage.

 

But it is what drips within our mind

—a hint of gold

paints itself upon our soul.

A nectar so sweet

for what once was dead

finds a new thread.

 

In the darkest of places

we must give the most light

fed with faith and starved of fear.

Then comes a voice

all shall hear

shivered loud—ringing clear.

 

Love it falls like a drip

eternal from a golden mind

trickling through your heart

comes a faith so kind.

For fed is the soul

flowing with milk and honey

from an oil so sacred

it keeps the lamp of Heaven

forever trimmed

and always burning.

BeLove © 2018


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Open Door

If you listen to what’s inside you will find what it is your soul delights.

Where love lives

the heart it gathers.

Gathered by a door

that’s never locked

opened to heaven

where it sits within.

 

Though time we suffer

through its refrain

of constant pain

falling like sleeves of rain.

 

So you must stay close

beside that door.

For the key is you

and the time is now

to know that you

are as true

as you always knew.

 

No need in asking

if it’s true?

You are the chosen few.

 

What are you waiting for?

Go ahead

open that door.

BeLove © 2018