still laughing

Written August 2000

I am not what I have. I am what I feel, I am what I think. Are you what you have, write to me, and let me know, I want to know. If I were what I have, mostly I would be debt, and I know that that is not what I am, I am not debt. If anything, I am unbridled life. I might be unbridled life, a firey seed who is under the impression that she is debt. Maybe. If that is my impression, then I am still under the spell of a lie. What are you? Are you a debt or are you dreams and passion and beauty? Are you free, do you allow yourself the liberty to be yourself in all that you are, do you own your heart, your mind? Or are you the guard and the prisoner of lie that you are not free, to love, to be loved just for being here, being how you are when you are?

I had a dream and you were there, you were. The dream was a whisper of the universe that rode in on the wind of transcendendal consciousness and my heart was open so my mind was too. I felt the messengers of the universe, which was the universe itself, in invisible faces, smiling at me, laughing at me, laughing at us, and the message delivered in restrained laughter, was that the universe accommodates all of our belief systems, that whatever we, as individuals, believe, we will find evidence to support it.

How easy it was to see that I am the keeper of my own limitation, my own short-sightedness, or my infinite vision. And not that we're ever left alone, no the universe is a friendly place, it has no malice and it plays no favorites. If we do not treat ourselves as equals here on earth, we are certainly seen as equal from everywhere else. Our thoughts are messages in bottles floating out to sea of stars, and eventually the reply floats back, fulfilled exactly as we asked. What do you ask for?

Still laughing, the universe shared with me that humans work themselves up with ideas of heaven and hell, as places which are created and controlled by a mysterious force, when in fact no one knows ourselves better that we do. That whatever our greaterest fears are, they become our hell, the time we give to them is more torturesome than any hell devised by a stranger. We are self contained divinities and demons, when you get down to it. And the catch is that nothing escapes our creation, meaning: everything we experience is something that whether consciously, though most likely unconsciously, we bring about ourselves. Yes, even the most evil circumstances has something to do with our belief of how the world is, and our role in it.