Good morning, pussy pudding. I’m glad you’re up. I’ve got something to tell you. Something that struck me square on the noggin last night while a frosty white crescent moon played catch with Sirius B. I saw something light up inside me. A vision, maybe. More specifically, a fleeting moment of understanding. Forgive me, though. I often forget that I teach best what I most need to learn.
When the vision came, I let go of a prayer for you.
I released my claims on you. Who was I to claim you in the first place?
Who are we to believe love is sewn with ropes and chains?
Who are we to believe that? How foolish?
And more importantly, who am I to judge? Remove the plank from your own eyes, he said, before you can rightly see in front of you. It is not your job, he said, to cast others, to condemn them to heaven or hell. What do you know, he asked, of the Big Befuddlement? Turns out not very much.
Life is a mystery for a reason. And if you lay claim on truth, on righteousness, you have immediately lost the game. For in doing so, you strike a blow to uncertainty, to mystery, to enigma. You seem to say, I understand this world. I understand what is right. And what is wrong.
But I’d rather leave the mystery to its own device. I’d rather sit in the Big Befuddlement like a frog on a lily pad, without telling you to do the same. Go ahead and stand. On one foot if you like. Go ahead and dive in. Go ahead and be yourself. You are a beautiful iteration of the Divine. It shines through you, if you let it. And this isn’t hokey. This is real. I am blessed to know this part of you. Truly blessed.
So, godspeed my friend. Good luck with the Great Mystery. Perhaps you’ll solve it in your own manner. I know it’s a bumpy ride on this rocket ship. And you’ll never make it off alive. So you might as well love. Be open to love.
It’s good you know? It’s good to love. To love truly and deeply in every moment. Because it is a moment’s choice. Love is not a fate. It is a choice. And I choose to love you. Love is an energy to which we have infinite access. It’s just a matter of finding our point of access–our source. We’ve each got one. And hell, when I tap into mine, I feel it so much–so much love. It’s like a balloon filled with strawberry jelly. Or a pool filled with peanut butter. Or something less messy but equally expansive. All I want is to give it away (not the peanut butter, that’s mine.) I want to give it away so that maybe you will feel what I generate in myself.
I believe we have superpowers, none of which, unfortunately, include invisibility, invincibility, or x-ray vision. I believe we, we as in humans (unless you so happen to be a literate koala bear), are capable of loving no matter what, of forgiving no matter what. By the way if you are in fact a koala bear, good on you. Enjoy your eucalyptus and please stay out of my pantie drawer. It’s not an appropriate place for marsupials to rummage.
I believe we (koala bears not included) can see through each other’s facades. I can see your soul. It might be buried under muck, rubble, and debris accumulated over years of learning falsehoods, engraining within yourself behaviors that do not serve your highest good. But the soul still shines. When I love, I come to know the tenderness of life–I touch beneath my own muck. I remember what invigorated me so much–in that time for which I’ve often desperately yearned. It was not you. It was me. It was me loving. It was me feeling something inside of myself. And I am capable of feeling that whenever I want.
I am capable of transcending my fear, my self-doubt, my shame, my anxiety, and emanating something close to God. That’s the real deal. The jumbo juice. The good vibrations. That Beach Boys shit. Bump it. Infuse it in every vein. Laugh until you cry. Cry until you laugh. And let love turn all the paradoxes of life into silly putty. Cause everything is malleable. Even the past. Even stone. Nothing is lost. Everything is renewable. Everything can become new, a stranger to its former shell. It can be transformed. It is never too late for transformation.
Close your eyes. I said close them you stubborn goat. Okay nevermind. If you close them you wouldn’t be able to read this. But just like imagine that you’re closing your eyes. Focus your attention on your crown chakra, the point where your scalp touches the sky. Now breathe. Breathe in, deeply, slowly, mindfully. Feel your lungs expanding. Your blood oxidizing. And breathe out, deeply, slowly, mindfully. With each ebb and flow, draw light down your crown, pull it with each breath into your spine, into your shoes, into the Earth. You can’t see it but there’s a diamond light shining above your head. All it takes is a little awareness, a little intention, and you can give that to yourself. You can come to understand the infinite nature of what you are and what you have access to.
It’s not hocus pocus. It’s not new age gobbledygook. It’s as real as Abraham Lincoln’s ugly face. It’s as real as Thomas Jefferson’s sweaty palms. It’s as real as the rain, and the grass, and that fart you let out during dinner last night. Don’t lie, you know you did it. And it’s okay, because it was real. And so is this. So is love. It’s not some unreachable state of being. It’s not some password protected dance club in Amsterdam. It’s a choice, a choice that can be made at any time. It’s a feeling you can create within yourself. Remember that. And also remember what it means to be human, to be a part of a whole. That’s where you’ll find love–when you remember you are infinitely connected with everyone and everything at all times.
So godspeed, my love. Godspeed. Find what lights you up, or who–and just fucking love. Use your superpower to light up the world. That’s all I’m trying to do. And I hope, more than anything, it’s working.