I am seeing more than I know how to see.
I am feeling more than I know how to feel.
I am knowing more than I know how to know.
How do I find words to convey it? It goes so far beyond words, beyond concepts – beyond the human mind.
I am writing so compulsively these days because I am trying to convey to my rational mind the incomprehensible power that is at work in me. Maybe I will, little by little, begin to let that go.
Is it, though, part of my mission to open myself to being a conduit for the words that will reach people – to translate this stuff into verbal packages, into love-letters from the beyond? Maybe this is why a master writer, a master blogger got recruited for this gig. Jennifer used to call me “The Word God” – one of the most shockingly affirmative things she ever let herself say to me. Maybe these are God’s words.
Am I meant to let go of the words altogether – to just go to letting my presence do the talking, to look at people in the grocery line and let their soul jump out of their skin? I think they are two parallel tracks – I think i shall do both.
Do I dare post this? Are people ready to see/hear all this? In the battle between my “let ‘er rip” voice and the “leave it out” voice, I am choosing to let the “let ‘er rip” voice win more. In fact, I can see above that I no longer regard the “leave it out” voice as actually mine – it is “the voice”, not “my voice”. As I more trust the voice of God moving through me, I will have less need to try to reassure myself and others that “I am working hard to stay grounded.” “Don’t worry about me…there’s nothing to see over here…ain’t nobody here but us chickens.”
In the face of all the fear around me – people just spontaneously, maybe unbidden, announcing their fears to me – how do I reassure them it’s alright that I mostly don’t have fear any more? (I think that even the word “mostly” is me still trying to soft-soap it, to soften the impact of the naked truth that fear has almost entirely fallen away from me – that I am no longer driven by it, except in rare moments like in the hospital delirious from an infection.)
I have always assumed that Marianne Wilson and A Course In Miracles are the true bottom line – that “Love Is Letting Go of Fear”, that we are all in and out of fear (then love) all day long. What if that principle no longer applies to me? Aah, I’m laughing – the fear behind the fear, the fear of what it means that I am no longer afraid. Oh, it truly all is very funny. I think I’ll just go shave and laugh for a while.
And, on my way to my shave, what comes through next and insists that I stay planted on the love seat – laptop on my lap – for another moment is this: This is the path we all must walk – are all walking at this moment. How much of our own brilliance, our own radiance are we willing to let ourselves see? Seeing the God-essence in us can be so scary: “What will people think? (of me for seeing, thinking this of myself).” “Is this ego taking over?”
When people look at me in the checkout line and alternately fully show up, let their God-essence take over, feel all that they are needing/ready to feel – or pull away/close down/flip out in the face of this possibility – is it because I am a thousand candle watt bulb in front of them, that they can’t bear to look at? No, I am a very high-power mirror, a super x-ray mirror that reflects back to them as much of them as they can barely bear to see.
I don’t hit you with a peacock feather or give a transmission through a hug – I do it through looking at you in the grocery store, through smiling at you, through teasing you and giving you shit, through flirting with you, through us laughing together.
Laughing together is definitely better than sex. Lots of people say lots of things are better than sex, but most of them are not. Chocolate is definitely not better than good sex. Very little is better than good sex. Really, fully laughing together – totally surrendering to the laughter, riding on the current of electrical life energy, dissolving into each other without ever physically touching each other – ooh, baby! This is definitely better than even very good sex.
And all this is coming through me when I am just four months out of the chute, when this gig is still so new to me – when I am still basically in the first grade of this enlightenment school. Let’s see what it all looks like about a year from now. I think I’m not meant to see that yet.