Letters

I started working on this journey as if never was it supposed to see the light of the day. That’s why you might see some brightness in it. Letters.

If it wasn’t me, I would say “this dude’s a motherfucker”. To ruminate about dreams and sit at the piano the minute you fell off the couch; to meditate and jot down the burdens you just sweated off; to come back from hypnosis and listen to the recordings from your past lives and not think that you’re sick in the head… Those are things that many shy away from. Too much truth is, like freedom, a double bladed sword.

Others come to visit every night. We see, touch, and love them. They mess up our sheets. They scare you. Lol. Chill out! They only want to gauge how much soul has survived in us. Have we consumed it all yet?

It’s not easy to connect the dots because the dots are already connected: wrong vantage point. There is no discontinuity up there, nor down here in the heart. Dualities are creations of humans that humans rely on in order to make living palatable. They are puzzling. In fact, a hint away from the surface we are wholeness. Glimpses of discontinuity we discern are just human leftovers. Everything else, on the non-existent line of time and space, is a spacetime altogether.

To shake off the fear becomes a non-issue the minute we accept that the human condition is just a dogma. And, like every dogma, we believe in it because… just because. We believe in humanity despite the fact that no one has ever shown us once and for all that we are human. Oh well!