Beauty Of Life

Wow.  My vocabulary, in my own native tongue, constantly escapes me.  Or, rather than escapes me, stays intensely confined in my limited mind.  I enjoy writing and do it in the same way that I feel the need to walk when having sat too long.  It’s a, oh god, dare I say, “release”.  Too many artists have used that word, and for good reason, but it doesn’t explain me well. 

I planned to be asleep several hours ago as to mentally and physically prepare for tomorrow’s continued exploration.  But as soon as the opportunity goes past the point of my intention, I change my intention to something else.  I cannot allow myself to sleep, though my eyes beg me.  I feel so beautifully overwhelmed in my constant state of awakening and wish to stay up to watch it.  Again, so desperately I desire to appropriately explain what I mean.  But I suppose I should change my intention and not say anything other than how it comes out. 

My time here in my new “home” has been just a little bit of everything.  Some of those things I never knew existed in me.   It’s like a storm.  Have you ever watched a frightening storm from the comfort of your home?  Because of its might you can't help but humbly examine how those unseen forces can effortlessly shape its planet.  And though scared at the sight of it, you yearn to be in the middle, believing it to be exhilarating against all of your sunny days.  I am in a great hurricane of newness that is powerfully forming the terrain within.  And it makes my life, while being aware that it could also take my life.

My invisible interior walls are shifting.  Nature is taking place in me and I can’t stop it, nor do I want to.  I’m slowly chipping away, gradually seeing what lies beyond the bricks that have haunted my spiritual streets.  And I can tell you that today another row fell and turned to a maroon dust that has simply blown away, forever disappearing into eternity.

What I believe to have come to is the ability to remain astounded by all that I experience, no matter the state of mind or emotion.  I have produced some brutal tears of question and doubt while injecting myself into this city.  But even in that time the light of the moon catches my eye to remind me of what it is that captivates me on an infinite level.  It takes me out of my moment of fear and puts me into the essence of life.  While allowing myself to squirm in torment, because it is necessary, the discomfort gives me an opportunity to call upon that which feeds my curiosity and wonder.  Such as the light of the moon that I can see from my window now. 

It’s not over.  As soon as I become comfortable, and the “winds” die down, another storm will brew when my planet needs renovating.  I have become so thankful in this time of my little life.  I don’t take anything lightly that has gotten me here.  Here!  This moment NOW.  That could be just about anything, like my darkness, my light, and all the events I’ve ever managed to come across.  My pain allows my eyes to see.  And what I gaze upon is the beauty of my life.