Living

The  narrative loosens – the story of the self, its meaning and connection with events – and what has been and what will be.  Wishing does not make it so.  And yet.  I can still feel the remnants of desire – will that fade and shrink too?  Now that the outcome has been released like a 100 colorful balloons into a faraway distance.  I held on tight and dreamed of flying with the balloons… but now I am.

Content with just Being.  Each moment pregnant with possibility.  THIS IS LIVING. Unfolding.

My unconscious drama manifests in life events until I can see clearly again.  Right now that clarity is a misty haze – I see shades and form but no details.  I see an expansive self – connected, less fearful.  A lot less expectant and imposing.  Waiting and ready for the moment to unfold and reveal the opportunities rather than chase them – altering their presence with my demands and expectations.

A voice says:  Do what’s asked of you – listen to your Truth and act.  Perhaps the moments between the doing are just as lubricated with opportunity because there is within that Stillness, a space that gives rise to Truth.

There is no right or wrong, just consequences.  Whether it’s a separation from connectedness, a malignant virus of doubt – or an expansive sense of Oneness, it depends fully on my intent.

And that is derived completely from the quality of my attention.

What is faith? What is god? Does he exist?  I don’t know…

But how I live this life is a choice.

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