On The Substance Of Life

Long before the road to hell was paved, man was more than able to find his own way to Heaven through the nature of himself.

It is a befitting attitude to engage amongst any consideration pertaining to the better tasting substances of life, those which intertwine modesty with the miraculous—minus the madness—which might I add is often easiest to find. It is in the nature of our being to cradle with our thoughts, certain testimonies that are measured by the height of our curiosity. This nature, in a way, finagles with the fact that creation has always been the very foundation of our “being,” and from it we must build our existence.

I have often spoke of finding one’s self, but I’ve come to grasp that the meaning of life is to in fact, in the constructive sense, create yourself. It is in the nature of creativeness to offer hints of clarity that help to keep the mind clear of unnecessary debris that must be swept clean. There is no better time than now to clear said debris. Long before the road to hell was paved, man was more than able to find his own way to Heaven through the nature of himself.

 Whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two.

Matthew 5:41

Into The Mystic

In as much as we are possible, we should strive to resemble the idea that He had of us when He created us. As should we be expected to laugh and smile with our worries as they recover from self-susceptibility. Worries aren’t something that are to be handled with the constant maneuvering of them to and fro, between that of suffering and sentimentality. Worries are to be handled in the sense of all that is lackadaisical. A stumble here and a fumble there, but it is in the delight for life’s spontaneity that leaves the spiritual energy of love forever hiding in plain sight.

Life is too damn rigorous in itself. Let alone should we allow it to leave us left worried all the damned time. Life and its more delicate moments are to be treated to the delicacy of creativity. Life is about creating from the core characteristics of our being, getting more centered with the edge from which we leap, which of course is considered to be love.

How delicate life is when death doesn’t spare a dime of mercy? Time is way too short to worry about what others may think. Death is always right around the corner and as precious as life is, why hide it’s beautiful touches of madness? With that being said, even deeper into a thought let us sink.

“Maybe I was wrong to grow up at my own pace and for feeling underwhelmed at my own choices, to choose what I did when I did. Yet these are the circumstances of who I am today. Nowadays, I’m content with being a child at my core. I’ll be the first to tell you, this is the most beautiful part of “being,” because without our childhood, to us, there would be no core. At our core sits the beauty of childlike chaos; it’s how you handle it as you get older, which will speak volumes of your character and exemplify how you treat and react to others.”

“Is it not up until about nine or ten years old we knew of nothing but that of unconditional love? We are all children at heart, are we not? The heart knows nothing of age. We are just as nurtured and matured by foolishness as we are by goodness, and by all of the random acts of kindness that we have, without thought, accumulated over the span of our lives. Its the simplicity within this wholeheartedness of understanding that keeps those dark days somewhat sunny. These actions even left unseen are eternally adolescent and wild.”

“From my less than critical decision making throughout life, I came to see that by creating from the deepest layers of me that I was beginning to truly feel “free” from me. It was like something was being excavated from the deepest depths of me, uncovering lodes of gold, the kind no “inward” coal miner ever suspected to exist. There is not a thing more romantic than the semantics of the shedding of who we are from the layers of our own and especially that of the societal gold standard”

Sparks Of A Touched Soul.

“It shouldn’t be so hard to imagine that the ten billion inhabitants of this rock we walk upon would set out upon the same sort of self-exploration. But it is, and will continue to become more difficult, but there is hope yet, but first the sun of subversion must set. It is unfortunate these days that thought is being manufactured beneath the shadow of shady tactics leaving most to be worried about what exists within the toxic perception of their own collective ego.”

“So it is rather for now that we are left to just a small army of those who truly hope and pray for Heaven on Earth. It is true that with universal self-understanding, all of humanity would be given backstage access to that of inner bliss, as they come to approach the cliff overlooking the meaning of life. And as I stand now teetering, it is from the edge I jump into the depths of Heaven on Earth.”

“It would be a certain sort of pleasantry to see all of those whom are wrapped up in the elegance of their fur lined egos, lining the streets to have their souls scrutinized. Maybe Heads of State would come out in soft parades to reveal intimate state secrets with the desire to better humanity, all the while confessing their own dreams for the inner improvement of themselves. And we may come to find revolutionaries in the streets preaching the revolution of consciousness, while hearing about the pseudo-Christians who urged the (moral) slaying of each one of themselves so that Christ can indeed succeed their own ego. Hopefully businessmen would surprisingly escape from those venture capitalist ways and run to the emotional stock exchange to trade in their valuable assets for eternal values. Maybe academia would tear up its diploma to board the myth of the ship Argo, while oilmen drill for the eternal black gold that springs from the kingdom of Self.  It is then that may we see converted chemists extract several megatons of spiritual energy from the atomic rubble of war.”

We’re still a long way. However, Heaven on Earth doesn’t only reveal itself in our immediate surroundings—it emigrates.

The Beauty Of Spiritual Energy.

In Closing

Genuine dissent must always keep a human measure upon the height of righteousness. It must be free and spontaneous. Or what the hell? Let us just call it wild. The slighter gestures of spiritual bewilderment are often the most significant, because they are not premeditated.

True, he who dissents alone may confine the element of dissent to words, to inward declarations, to poetic thoughts, to symbolic gestures. He too may fail to act. Gestures are perhaps not enough. Perhaps they are to the eye, a slight of hand, and perhaps to the heart they may fit just right. And perhaps it is to hope that over time these tokens of appreciation will once and for all, force the hand of ego upon its flight of ascension away from that everlasting inner eternal fight. The truth of this is divine in nature, this is when we can truly taste the sweetness of honey in the substance of life.

It is for now must I go on and get to where my sanity has found the perfect fit. Time has grown of the essence. The reality of summer’s looming swell of chaos has beckoned the call of the beast below. We thank you from the bottom of me for taking the time to read. Godspeed.

—Ryan  

Sanity is the beauty that hides behind madness put to good use.

Expressions Of Identity

Our purpose is not to simply be, but to work together in the collective sense with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny. 

A tree gives grandeur to God by existing as a tree.  It is by being just a tree that it is observing Him.  It consents to His creative love.  This tree, it is an expression of an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God.  It is by expressing itself as a tree that it imitates God.

The more a tree is like itself, the more it is like Him.  If it tried to be something else that it was never intended to be, it would be less like God, and therefore it would give Him less majesty.

There are no two created beings that carry exact likeness.  Individuality should not be considered imperfection.  On the contrary, the perfection of each created thing is not merely an adaptive style to its abstract type but in its own individual identity with itself.  This particular tree will give glory to God by spreading its roots far and wide, it will raise its limbs into the air and it will seek the light of life in a way that no other tree before it or after it will ever do.

Each particular being, in its individuality, in its distinct nature and being, with all its own features and reserved abilities and its own sacrosanct identity, gives grandeur to God by being precisely what He wants it to be here and now, in the circumstances designed by His Love and His endless Art.

The formulae and certain charismas of all living and cultivating things, of inanimate beings, of beasts and blossoms—in reality all nature—constitute their holiness in the vision of God.  Their inward landscape is purity in its simplest form. It is the blueprint of His wisdom and His existence in them.

The unique awkward beauty of this Shetland pony, floundering in the snow saturated dirt on this chilly last day of November under these swelling clouds is a holiness blessed by God to His own creative wisdom and the glory of His nature at work, it alone asserts the glory of God.

These yellowed pale wildflowers along the side of this path that I am walking as we speak, the ones that most hardly ever notice, they are saints in their own simple way, grasping for the grandeur of God.

This leaf in my hand has its own roughness and its own ascending fractal pattern of veins, which characterizes its own holy nature, the brook trout hiding in the depths of this river are canonized by their specific speckled beauty and their strength.

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This great, wounded, half-naked mountain that looms ahead of me is one of God’s most majestic works of art. There is no one thing like her.  She is her own character—nothing else in the world ever did or ever will imitate God in the same way.  That is her sanctity.

What about you?  What about me?

Unlike the animals, the trees, and all of these inanimate beings, it is not enough for us to be what our nature intends.  It is not enough for us to be individuals.  For us unfortunately, holiness means more than humanity.  If we are never anything but people, we will not be able to offer to God the worship of our imitation, which is sanctity.

It is considered a truth to say that for me sanctity consists in being myself and for you sanctity consists in being your self and that, in the last consideration, your sanctity will never be mine and mine will never be yours, except in the collectivism of charity and grace.

For me to be me means to be myself.  Therefore the problem of sanctity and salvation is in fact the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self.  And I must be honest, the more I place my eyes upon His scripted garden, the more I pray, I am coming to discover who I was meant to be.  But it is true that I still must walk this path, and it is also correct that this path is a lifelong journey, but I take pleasure in the beauty that I see and the beauty of His will that awaits me.

Trees and animals do not latch on to the same problems as we do.  God makes them what they are without consulting them and they live in the perfection of satisfaction.

With us it is entirely different.  God leaves us to be whatever we like.  We can be ourselves or not, as we please.  We are at liberty to be real, or to be unreal.  We may be true, we may be false, and that choice is ours.

Throughout life we may wear many different masks, if we so desire, and never emerge from our own true identity.  But this is a choice that must not be made with impunity.  Causes carry effects, and if we lie to ourselves and to others, then we cannot expect to find the truth and its reality whenever we happen to want them.  If one chooses the way of falsity one must not come to be surprised when the truth eludes them when they come to need it.

Our purpose is not to simply be, but to work together in the collective sense with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny.  We are beings built from the freedom God so graciously gave us. By this I mean to say that we should not passively exist, but actively possess the awareness to participate in His creative freedom, in our own lives, and in the lives of others, by choosing the truth.

To say it even better, we are called to share with God the work of creating the truth of our existence in our true identity.  We often evade this responsibility by toying with masks, and this does please us because it appears at times to be a free and creative way of expressing life.  It is quite easy and it will seem to please everyone.  But in the long run, it may carry a cost and sorrow may saturate in the depths your soul.

We must work out our own identity in God, in which the Bible says as follows:

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling.

Philippians 2 : 12

To find our own identity is a laborious task that requires sacrifice and anguish, risks and many tears. It demands close attention to reality at every moment, and great fidelity to God as He reveals Himself via obscurity, in the secrecy of each new situation.

There is no clear-cut path that lies ahead of me and it is not known beforehand what the result of this work may be.  The secret of my whole identity is hidden in You alone.  You will make me who I am, or rather who I will be when at last I fully begin to walk in Your presence.

But unless I desire my identity and work hard to find it with You, the work will never be done.  The way I must do it is a secret I can learn from no one else but You. There is no shortcut to this secret without faith in You.  But I now know that prayer is a precious gift that is never fleeting, and it alone has begun to enable me to see and begin to understand the work that You want done.

The seeds that this tree has planted in my liberty at every moment, by Your will, are the seeds of my identity, my reality, my happiness, and most important my sanctity.

To refuse them is to refuse everything; it is the refusal of my existence, of my own identity, of my very own self.   So I will not refuse them, instead I shall water them with Your will.

Yours truly—

Ryan Love