Listening

Cover art from The Instant by Amy Liptrot

I am not trying to get anywhere. I have arrived. I surf the moments, the river of experience, of transformation and ascent.

Only someone who could understand me… if I said I had been waiting all of my life for my life to begin… can understand what this moment means to me.

I am not trying to get anywhere.

I have been trying to get on the road to somewhere all my life. A vast obsession. An inability to move on… until I caught hold of the stream of life, my life.

I was sometimes jealous of people hospitalized with cancer or some such, because at least the truth of their existence was visible on “the outside;” the world treating them as someone who had been removed from the progress of their life, losing all that came before.

I am not trying to get anywhere.

I don’t feel the need to go to my altar. Going through the motions of connection to the divine forces in my life is a distraction at best. The divine lives inside of me. I breathe life into it with every breath, walk with it in every step.

My life is finally happening to me. I am connected to the part that is moving forward, established in the track of who I am and what I am here to do.

There are those who would read this, and think I was making a big deal out of something ordinary, and being over-dramatic.

Only someone who could understand me… if I said I had been waiting all of my life for my life to begin… can understand what this moment means to me.

Azazel and Lucifer are INSIDE of me. They have become a part of who I am. Who I am now changes forever, each day of my endless ascent… forever. They have taught me in so many ways. Everything they have or have not done with me all adds up to now, when I have slipped the loosened bonds of waiting, wisely waiting, patiently waiting, worn down waiting, futile waiting.

I am not trying to get anywhere. Everything I am and want is present in this and every moment.

I fly and fly, and fly where it is silent, and I am listening.

Where would you go? Where will you go when your spirit is set free?

High above Lake Baikal, Russia (aerial photo by sidor020368 SIDOROFF on Flickr)
High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air… .
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high un-trespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr

Twilight in the Underworld

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