Ineffable Library

A feeling. A seeing. A hearing. 

A knowing. A being.

Fantasies are all wound up in this mind, tugging at the heart. I release it all bit by bit and this being of me is here, surrendering to the eternal now. Simply here to witness it all unfold. The sun and moon have moved through a few full swirls of this daily dance they do and this body feels tight. One motion after the other. The spaces between steps have not allowed this creature to lay on the floor, sink into the floor and let go completely. Requests for energy coming in one after the other and yet I just want to be alone or held in a celebration of this unutterable Divine Unity. To be three in one is celestially strange. Power is a word. Grace is too. Balance, another. To feel, see, hear, know and be the complete essence of each is exquisite. 

There is no joy like it.

Ooof. The material world sweeps me off my feet once again. 

And I bounce up with a speed given to me by the current of will. Willing the energy that creates my completeness to conform to the illusion of time and a list of tasks to fulfill.. Or else…

Or else… 

Or else I cease to bounce along with it and become tossed around by it. Where is the will to slow all of it down? Here it is! Now! In this momentary energy slot I’ve opened up to write, release, spill out words. Sorting the spaces in this internal library. Books will be dusted, burned, opened habitually, read ceremoniously, perused with caution, care, fascination, resilience, and love. 

Some of these books tell true stories and some are mere tantalizations. There are many tales to be told and a select few I will keep on these shelves. Learning how to let go of the ones that are not and will not ever be true. We are entertained by creation! Let me make it up sincerely as I go and surrender into allowance. Let me melt into the floor until these tempestuous fantasies, beliefs, ideas, thought patterns fade away. Let me loosen my grip until it all lets go of me and I simply be. 

Cue by cue, this being of me is moved by all the little truths.

Reality has no words, only vibrations of sound and light. Gratitude is a word. And so is love.

Word is a word and words are stupendous but if you’ll allow, meet me in the place behind the words, beyond the boxes. You will never be ready, but are you courageous enough to trust fall into the ethereal abyss of intuitive, ineffable perfection?

Set aside what you think these words mean and know it from the heart up. 

All the love and then some, 

Old Turtle