Feed The Flow…

It is of hope to me that some would come to discover that the most impenetrable landscape, that the most unusual adventures are the ones seen and experienced from within.

Clearly creativity springs from something that rises, rolls, surges, and spills into us rather than from something that just stands there hoping that we might, however circuitously, find our way to it.  In this sense we never “lose” our creativity.  It is always there, filling us or else colliding with whatever obstacles are placed in its path.  If it finds no inlet to us, it backs up, gathers energy, and pushes forward until it breaks through.  The only way we can muster its insistent energy is to spin it in a positive way as to continuously mount barriers against it, this is so it can be diverted away from the channels that are poisoned by the destructiveness of negativity and negligence. 

If we are gasping for creative energy; if we have trouble holding onto the imaginative, the morality of our own creation; if we struggle to focus on our personal vision, acting on it, or following through with it, then something has gone wrong at the spring of the source, between the headwaters and the tributary. Perhaps one’s creative waters are flowing through a polluted environment, whereas the pollywogs of imagination are killed off before they can grow into maturity. But more so than not, if creativity is bereft of constant flow, sometimes you have to let it build, like a pile of driftwood gathering from a Spring runoff, holding its own, until it’s time had to come to break the damn levee…

My mind may have well gone ahead and volunteered for any one of the dozen marathons going on this time of year. It was moving constant and in all directions. These marathon states, how should I describe their phenomena? In a marathon state I infinitely lack something, my heart swells to the point of sickness, it feels like a tearing eagerness ripping at the fabric of my being. This two and a half, “going on twenty” year journey into the creative depths of myself has bled through a lot of things that spill from the core of me.

The sentient part of my soul often wishes to express itself in ways most are not accustomed to. There are some symptoms of an overdose of caffeinated emotion. Or it could be that these butterflies intermingled with a heavy heart and lightheadedness were just some subtle vibrational twitches in the direction of all things synchronistic and full of surprise. I have at times had sense of being the instrument of a higher power. I often feel that I’m either being used as an example of human error or as a mere shadow of the suitable things to come. Which in the sense of excitement and deliberate expectation, was pushing me closer to the edge.

I was not so completely unrealistic that I failed to ask myself whether by a sensible person I meant myself. It was evident I had become one of those proud sensitive kind of gentlemen who liked to give so much trouble because I have been adorned with this passion for such internal matters that seem of slight interest to any so-called sensible person.

As I found my way swimmingly to the edge of the bank, I gathered my things with what little bit of wit I had left. My smile went wide with the framework of contentment. I had fallen under the influence of all things speculative and metaphysical. It was time to approach the premises of universal eagerness, asserting that the appearance of mankind on this earth as a whole, was a good thing, a little bit more immature and held to a lower lack of accountability then generations passed, but nonetheless curable in the esoteric sense.

I was starting to become keen again, to the peculiarity of things, within the depths of which certain secular tendencies often touched on “not” telling the truth. It’s these thoughts that sent my mind into frenzy nowadays, with their accelerating rhythms and paradisiacal philosophical deliriums that provoked the explosion of layers of an unknown consciousness deep within me. It was my hope that by reducing the strength of these outlying forces, that I might not run through the fire, perpetually on the edge of chaos before throwing myself into the depths of the river, all the while panting with joy and amazement.

I was becoming altruistic in the realm of all that is romantic in a short period of time, this writing, somehow had it’s hand in the digging of the depths in the trenches where which I often dove headfirst. I often think that the sickness in my heart somehow spread into a sort of high-strung emotional poetic disorder. This is how I sometimes felt, and still do from time to time. Too often I am washed over with a sense of being, poisoned by an eagerness, and a congestion of tender impulses finessed with fever, spun with all of it’s enthusiastic dizziness. Love did after all bring out my deepest peculiarities.

It’s not to be considered a bad thing at all; I’d be one to guess that it belongs to the nature of this path that leads to my own sort of inner salvation. And so it is that owing to my eagerness, I began to connect breathing with joy again, and owing to the gloom of sickness, I looked to connect that joy with light, and owing to the absurdity of my own thoughts, I allied the light that shone upon the walls around me with the light that burned inside me.

I had materialized myself as one of those Hallelujah and Glory types. Furthermore concluding that man, this one in particular, is nothing but a continent of creative divide. One minute you are creating this, the next that. Though it belongs to those who are sensible, they are the ones who look to offer their personal experiences as a helpful lesson to the rest, hoping to energize the hearts and minds of others and do right by them—an intensive sort of public relations project. And for those who share no sensibility, or offer no empathy, let them be as they may. They will wake up sooner or later.

There are times when I see all of these thoughts of mine with copious amounts of idealism spread about. But there are other times when to me, all I see is pure external delirium, a toxic entity of animosity spreading far and wide, burning the fields of indigenous love, and sucking God’s Muse dry of Her very own blood. With everyone so sold on gold and the so-called good, it has become much easier to bat an eye at evil while we tuck it into bed for the night. But it is a certain gold that greed seeks, and there is certain honey hued Inner gold that builds and spills from within.

Some will only understand this once they themselves are sufficiently stripped of their hodgepodge of ideas, considering little by little the blandness of ordinary conversations, that are often too careful to avoid the essential subjects, such as the purpose of life, and the path to the other side. Instead some are left to measure just how dull it can be to waste time playing solitaire when going up against the stacked deck of subversion.

Though it is of hope to me that some would come to discover that the most impenetrable landscape, that the most unusual adventures are the ones seen and experienced from within, where beauty blossoms with the ordinary, where each moment can be richly unique, where the splendor of honey-filled joy is found where it’s least expected, if only one knows at which angle to capture the light, which in my opinion, is an angle that bends from within. Maybe they would finally realize that once they reached the Stairs that leads to door of the Inner Kingdom, they would see that everything else is barren poverty.

I have grown exhausted of everyone looking at everything with a negligent set of eyes. In my refusal to participate in the decline, I no longer wanted to be one to trample millenniums of wisdom, or to accept the reign of cynicism and the establishment of barbaric beliefs. Nor would I any longer find comfort in being an accomplice to the establishment of greedy manmade ideologies, all of which spread one way or another with the idea of repressing consciousness, all the while converging on the excessive accumulation of possessions. I had to find myself hidden in the midst of them all. I finally came to understand that with this undertaking, in spite of its discretion, very well could capture a collapse better than anything else. So off to set the foundation of an Inner Church I went, as it is so to speak, I took to the canvas of God.

We’d all be much better off, if we all went to work on ourselves, as much as we go to work just to live.  As I get in the car to drive to work, this river, this valley, it swells subtle with summer and new beginnings. Life was being drawn in the grass with the glowing green of growth. As one last thought runs through my mind, I find it unfortunate that we have been to the moon, we have charted the depths of the ocean and the heart the atom, but we have been standardized with this fear of looking inwards at ourselves because we have grown customary to the belief that this is where all of our contradictions will flow together within the confluence of the inner river.  But it is only if ourselves, would allow the decongestion of our ability to choose the ethical choice between what is right and what is wrong, we would find that free will ain’t so bad after all.

In closing, man is an ever-flowing river of creativity until the very last breath he draws. There are no limits set by this eclectic and electrified universe upon man’s cosmic totality, or his multiplication power. Each man sets his own limitations in accordance with his desires. He may Be a tiny stream which gathers little energy and carries a weak current or he may be roaring river, with the weight of eleven hundred and eleven cubic feet flowing through him at all times. This is true of all the energy borrowed from the universe by all of us. It is there in infinite quantity. The gauge for the kind of flow each of us have within us is set by ourselves.

—BeLove

The Spirit Of Love

You will show me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; at your hands are pleasures forevermore.

Psalms 16 : 11

Love exists in both the physical and the spiritual domain. Which is why our heart and mind often bicker back and forth about what is real and what is hidden in the soul. Love can drive us mad and love can set us free. Love is what we forever want and something we don’t always feel like we need.  But all we need is Love, if only from within, from time to time. The only thing Love should ever possess is our self-awareness.

Love is a tragedy in itself.  Love contains an eternal tragic element that is connected with death.  I mean this in the metaphoric sense that a broken heart digs with a shoveled similarity until it finds itself suffocated six feet under.  But I haven’t died as far as I know.  So how can I compare the two?  I’ve always said that if my heart is beating, it ain’t broke.  This is truer than most believe.  It is only in the deepest depth of love when the obstacles of physicality are no longer a make believe barrier that blocks the spirit of unconditional love.

In the tragedy of natural or physical love, we begin to see the element of hostility unveil itself in the depths of this type of love. Too often people are afraid to fully open their hearts out of wrong instincts that are accompanied by false fears and/or beliefs.  This is what prevents the possibility of true intercommunion.

But it is important throughout life to take the time to look within you and become one with yourself.  This is done by falling head over heels in love again with who you are and what you aspire to be.  The soul then starts to seek the stability of a spiritual awareness that thrives in the absence of physical love.  This is deemed necessary to heal from tragedies of loves’ past and to reevaluate our internal skillset and what it takes to truly love our self again.  If one does not come to love their own self with wholeness, they will never be able to love another soul in the unconditional sense.

Man is poisoned by primitive fears of loneliness and liberating one’s self from this fear proves to be an honest and uplifting task.  It brings not only joy—but also new tragedy. Welcome to the tragedy of detachable personality.  You see every time our heart is broken, it could be considered symbolic of death.  We crumble, breakdown, and tear apart until all layers of illusion are burned away. All that we find left of ourselves is the truth of who and what we really are.  It is up to you whether or not you like that version of yourself. If you don’t like what you see, then change it.  This is the only way to fully heal and step away from the shadow of suffering.

It is physical love that desires personality.  Therefore physical love desires division. In this division our spirit and soul detach from the personality of the ego.  We begin to find out more about ourselves the further we hitchhike along the highway of spiritual goodness. We begin to contemplate the value of our self-worth.  In doing this we start to lose sight of the mirage of failure that we see within ourselves.  More important, we start to see what it is we love about ourselves.  And this is what unconditional love is all about.  If you can’t love yourself unconditionally, you will never know the true meaning of unconditional love.

When we love ourselves unconditionally, all that is supreme begins to support the foundation of Love.  This is when Love becomes what God intended it to be.  We then walk towards the light of death without worrying about our self-placed value.  Instead we worry more about stabilizing the realities of life and mystical love for those we care about and for the generations to come.  Please forgive me but it’s about to get a little deep in here.

You see love cannot be just a means to the ends of salvation and redemption. Love is the creation of a new life.  Love is not a conceptual spirit.  For it cannot be blind to the existing personality as a whole.  Love must embrace the spirit, the soul, and the ego.  And be the foundational sanctuary for the multitude of entities within us.  If the source of spirit is abstract and isolates itself from the soul, the soul cannot give rise to love for a living being.  This is when the ego makes an appearance as a false being looking desperately for physical love—all the while hiding with clever intent amongst the shade of lust.

True love means the descent of the spirit into the body and soul. The nature of spiritual love must bring light and wholeness into the life of a soul. This is what gives meaning and connection to everything. Without the spiritual principle of love, the life of the soul shatters into disconnected and meaningless experiences.  The self-absorbed persona of love then vanishes into the void of perpetual heartbreak.

From here the nature of physical love plays hide and seek with the spirit of love.  Physical love then becomes abstract—fantasizing to be spiritual—while ignoring the soul altogether.  This is not Love at all, neither physical nor spiritual.  It is a vicious cycle that the Ego thrives within its repetitive sense of toxicity.   This is nothing more than love of an idea and not love for a living being.  Love then becomes idolatry and loses its truest depth to that of illusion.  It is easy nowadays for us to all fall in love with the idea of love.

The idea of love makes it easier for us to project what we expect of love upon another being.  The idea of love liberates us from fighting Love’s eternal tug o’ war within us.  But I must mind you—this is a battle that cannot go unchallenged.  It must be fought and you must come out loving yourself more than you love any other.  Not to say that you should always love yourself more than others, but in order to fully love, you must first love yourself.  Then that love will trickle down and water the seeds of love planted all around you.  If the war within goes neglected the idea of love swells into a fantasy. It will become one that you may never be able to escape with reality in tow.

It is when we turn and face the ever-lasting war within ourselves that the truth of Love starts to surround all that we see.  Once you look Love in the eye, everything you see looks to be layered in spirituality.  Then the physical aspects of Love give way to a more spiritual stance in life and as to what the shape of true Love really is.  It is when we go to war within the dualistic nature of ourselves that the spirit and soul team up to squander the ego—with its illusory demeanor—once and for all. This is when we finally break free from the chains of selfish desire.

Spiritual Love

It is human nature to love physically instead of spiritually. The physicality of love is fragmentary, mixed with a passionate desire that distorts the true meaning of love. Physical love often prevents us from seeing another’s personality as a whole.  Instead we direct our perception upon the other’s fragmentary pieces, and offer our own sound advice on how they should put their own puzzle back together.  This is of course done without any sort of collective bargaining agreement and the puzzle within remains incomplete.

This is why it is important to put your own inner puzzle together before you allow anyone the chance to do it for you. There isn’t a single soul out there that can piece your puzzle together except for yourself and God.  And once you begin to see the truth in this, you will find your puzzle being pieced together with an inner peace you thought had long been lost in the infinite fray beneath the couch cushion.

Physical love is impotent because it is unenlightened and partial, spoiled by selfish ways and bound by the strivings that bind with the lust of Ego. Physical love is tainted by a jealousy that positions love in the realm of idolatry. This is where the idea of love carries more clout than the Spirit of love. But it is true, Love is more than a feeling.  It is more than an experience.  It is the manifested presence of God in your heart.  For love is the fruit of the Spirit.

Spiritual love is not meant to consume physical love in its entirety, but to transform, enlighten, and strengthen it with a transcendent force that is relative to unique wholeness and to the meaning of that which is unconditional love.  Spiritual love is a seed planted within you by you.  It is a seed planted alone, and the fruit only grows by watering the seed with faith.  For it is the fruit of the Holy Spirit that describe to us what true Love really is.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.  And those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep stride with the Spirit.  Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.

Galatians 5 : 22-26

You see God created us all in His image. This means we are created to love.  We are created to need love and more important to give love.  We are all connected with Love, tied by the thread of God’s Love for all of us.  As the world stands today, a lot of people do not know what true Love is. As society becomes more focused upon external distractions, love is being developed as a distorted physical feeling, piling up like counterfeit debt upon the lost soul.

My question is how do we transition this upon the facet of the future.  We can start by teaching this to our children.  Because let’s be frank, our generation is pretty much past the point of f*cked.  It’s our children that we must plant this spiritual seed of love within. Even if you do not fully believe, it would be wise to plant the seed of God and Love in your child because once the seed starts to grow within them, it is only going to grow within you as well, because you are a part of the Tree Of Life.  We will dive deeper in the depths of this problem down the road.

If there is only one thing you take away from this article, let it be this.  When you see that love surrounds us, it thrives in us, because it is God that lives within each and every one of us.  When you see that the grace of God is love, you will finally experience true Love, for you are feeling the presence of God’s glory.  God is love and God is spirit, so therefore the Spirit of Love exists in each and every one of us.

-BeLove