The time has come to dethrone illusory powers and deliver the quest for glory intended for all. Each one stands in the assigned post and passes the baton of brotherhood to every soul promised existence in the vanguards of life. The blindfold of hierarchies slips away as the hand of compassion is extended to the reaches of all land and all people. The scale of liberty balances the empowerment removing heaps of wealth and recognition to too few for too long. Look not to the formally awarded the favor of title, the privilege of inheritance, the glamour of fame, or the ecstasy of riches. Instead, look upon the face of the unacquainted, follow in the footsteps of the uncelebrated, and listen to the unperceived words which reverberate in the slums of crumbling cities.
Depend on the most unsuspecting souls to deliver the disheartened denizens of sabotaged avenues from the handholds of despotic bureaucratic forces. Pray to disintegrate the resistance to dispel the predilection of usurpers of influence to wrest from the hands of the weary and benumbed the entitlement, the birthright, to ordain the disclosure of a distinctive, universal design. Hearken the cry from the plain of azure heights beckoning the essence of life to rouse the ancient mystery of peaceful, harmonious, never-ceasing impulse. Resolve the potentiality and actuality the keeper of might, majesty, and mastery stands in your shoes. Extinguish the beams of media which construct standards of grace and acclamation lavished to the preferred, elite minority. Withdraw the invalid notion that the savior of nations occupies a solitary seat, and be questionless in the truth of your godhood.
photo credit: Rüdiger Stehn <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/69570948@N04/31630793663″>Ägypten 1999 (635) Kairo: Große Sphinx, Gizeh</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)<
The majesty of life unfolds among us as we swing on the wind of change. Certainty comes as we lay our head on the pillow of faith. We garnish messages from above with toppings of gratitude. We develop insight delivered on truckloads of promise and place trust in the greatness of forces unseen. The vast landscape of transformation has roads which lead to infinity. We marvel at the miracles of everyday life with lenses of desire and expectation. The power of gratitude carries us through the valley of strife. The endless stream of inspiration flows through the grooves of our open heart, and finds expression in the action of daily life.
One after another, gifts of light gather in the depths of life and serve as constant resources for transformative change. Word after word, sentences of wisdom and knowledge grow into towers of inspiration from which humanity partakes for the emergence of evolution. Never stray from the eternal carriage of courage and strength which will transport you to a new world of balance and harmony. Among the flowers of divinity we understand the purpose of life. We are constantly led down a path of purpose. Cherish the meek moments and stages of life, and await the revelation of the reason for every event and situation. Warm yourself in the glory of belief in all things unseen. Stand tall in the face of world races and competitions. It is the quiet life which matters now.
Praise any moment, any event, and prepare to embark on a journey of healing. The words never falter and the opportunities for action never cease. Delight in the magic of inspiration which travels in cosmic waves and wraps the expression of man for all the world to see. From afar come the answers to the mysteries which now rise from the graves of materialism. Labor in the fields of compassion and yearn for the harvest of mercy. Transcend definitions of power and kneel before the light of love. Wear the crown of kindness, share the scepter of victory, spread the spotlight of recognition, and give equality to every man, woman, and child. Strip man-made classifications and symbols of differentiation, and hold hands with the troops of unity.
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Resolve this. Resolve that. I have learned to monitor the “control freak” mode. I have noticed it does not take long to exhaust myself, after waking in the morning, with the automatic effort to analyze, categorize, dissect, and survey dominant issues in my life. I try so terribly hard at something which hardly requires a fraction of the energy input involved. This is my recipe for unhappiness.
Not only do I find myself being the unneeded resolver of issues, but I find myself grumpy. On my morning walks, for example, drivers on the road are not good enough. The Pepsi truck blocks the driveway just as I need to walk through. The driver on the corner makes a right turn in front of me just as my turn to cross the street comes. The pedestrians walking in the opposite direction toward me use the entire sidewalk forcing me to walk on the lawn. Finally, in the claws of exhaustion, I realize I am trying too hard.
I try too hard to force my life into what I believe it should be. I try too hard to have definite answers for my career, health, love life, and family life. I cannot think of a surer way to invoke unhappiness. Gratefully, the highest answer arrives. It asks of me to make a concentrated effort to release obsessive, compulsive thoughts. It is that simple. I gently repeat to myself, “release, release, release.” Invasive thoughts begin to retreat, and I find peace, once again. The core of my compulsion is fear, and the hero is courage driven by efforts to banish meddling thoughts. In the final analysis, this is the outcome of prayer. The control freak gives way to the higher power of love and wisdom.
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You are in the arms of divinity no matter what you are doing or where you are standing. Even in an ordinary moment on an ordinary day you are constantly accompanied by guiding light. Every waking moment is an act toward the fulfillment of the highest purpose. Consider not one single moment insignificant, quiet, or uneventful. Do the same for every person you encounter. Consider no amount of money or possession of material assets relevant to the highest purpose unfolding. In the stillness, in the silence, observe the revelation of truth. Do not be weary if by material standards life appears complacent, unfortunate, unlucky, and meaningless. The owners of the highest treasures are the least recognizable, the most forgotten.
Out of the most oppressive conditions rise the most exalted seeds of knowledge and wisdom. The mission belongs to the grateful. Accept the assignment of trials and tribulations, and forge the armor of peace, love, and power.
Separation is an impossibility. You are meant for eternal union with the higher dimensions. Believe what your eyes do not see, feel what your hands do not touch, hear what your ears do not grasp. Involve your heart in all your labor regardless of its outward smallness. Define your life by the breadth of your understanding and the compassion you share with others. Have mercy on the plague of fear and walk with courage in the face of misunderstanding. Bow down to the stream of inspiration which guides you, and rely on its constant, never-ending source.
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It took me too long to realize you were my friend. Little did I know a good spell had been cast which linked our hearts together. I was the benefactor of your existence and could ask for nothing more when I was in your presence. In some mysterious way, you fed my spirit with wholeness. We never needed words. In your silence, I received all your care and happiness. Beautifully, you are rooted to this Earth, yet, reach out to heaven and serve as a magnificent example for others. Under the sun, we lived as one and quietly exchanged vibrations of peace and pure joy.
Trying hard not to let it show, I yell out to you inside my head, “You were my friend! You were my friend!”
Thinking back, I reflect on the incredible fortune I possessed by having you near me. I thank the force which made your companionship so easy to find and your positive energy so easy to take. Nowadays when I pass you by, I endure a knot in my throat and hold back tears. Trying hard not to let it show, I yell out to you inside my head, “You were my friend! You were my friend!” I ask myself where the road turned which separated us. I blindly sacrificed our bond for things I considered more important. I left you behind for a race of ego because, somehow, I joined forces with fear and adopted the illusion of imminent self-destruction. I had a mission to survive my false illusions, and, in the process, became insanely insensitive to your eternal significance. Honestly and painfully, I forgot about you and, in doing so, forgot what I was meant to be.
As the grace of life would have it, one day, as I passed you by, I was touched by the golden light of remembrance and uncovered the truth and miracle of your existence. I was given a vision of the powerful wonder and magic I had lost. In dark contrast, the life I chose over you depends on frail measures of success and triumph. As long as I perceive that I could never have enough, be enough, I live in miserable poverty. By your side, I was wealthy and life was timeless. I had no inclination to linger in the past or future. You gave me the power to be happy effortlessly. Now I see I need nothing more. Therefore, tree of nature, tree of life, restore me to my former, higher self and mend the limbs of friendship I carelessly broke so long ago so I may, once again, be at one with the leaves of peace, truth, and joy, at one with Earth, at one with you.
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The standard of happiness by which I live depends on accepting my life exactly as it is right now with disregard to bank account dollar value, title, status, number of friends, depreciation of vehicle, square footage of home, and brand of shoes I wear. I intentionally do not attribute to my standard of happiness ideologies constructed by business, political, scientific, and social authorities. Everyone has a story, and this is my story. The drive which compels me to express myself concretely has its source in a dimension greater than what I may define in the context of time and space. In this greater dimension originates my standard of happiness, and from here I tell my story.
Through my story, I am granted the means to encourage the possibility of awakening in another what belongs solely to them. To each of us belongs the gift of Earthly expression, and, like fingerprints, that which each of us is meant to express is unique to our existence. The only force I may extend to you is the hope of knowing the gift of your expression.
Today, I am meant to polish the gems of truth and beauty found in the most ordinary of places and circumstances. The story of life which we await to hear is your story. The hero’s name and face belongs to the stranger in the crowd. Beneath an exterior of commonness resides the light bearer of our streets. Search in the shambles of forgotten cities. Step into the homes of the hungry and cold. Recognize the tired face and silent mouth. Open the gateway of expression assigned to each of us, and deliver the staff of transformation eternally allotted to all.
To them without a name and face belong the crowns of self-mastery.
I make no claim to the ultimate answer. I stake no claim to fame, fortune, and power. I lift a mirror to the spirit of human evolution which finds its origins in the urgency of today. I follow the hidden path and listen to the hidden people. I stand by them and walk by them. The gift they have to offer, the story they have to tell drives the story of my life and dictates the words I write. To them without a name and face belong the crowns of self-mastery. Listen in the oppressive silence, walk on the streets of desolation, meet with the face of destitution, sit with the greatest stranger, and give recognition to the true prototype of peace on Earth.
photo credit: The British Library <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/12403504@N02/11169705976″>Image taken from page 6 of ‘The Victorian Age! (The birthday of our beloved Sovereign. May, 1899.) [A poem.]'</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://www.flickr.com/commons/usage/”>(license)</a>
photo credit: Ivan Rigamonti N06/30912391712″>The other side … via photopin (license)
The force of good played an epic hand in the glory of victory. Against the tide of emotional, social, and political oppression did the labor of prosperity propel an omnipresent, undying dream. Quietly and persistently, mile by mile, stretch by stretch, stride by stride, many times crouching and crawling, a sprawling desire to construct love, order, peace, and equality made way in the fertile valley of manifestation.
Before leaving home, the remains of broken dreams were laid to rest. The roots of cultural familiarity were yanked from useless soil. A solemn gift of commemoration was offered three tiny children swooped to heaven after being cradled in their mother’s womb to term, but, through hands of destiny, unable to take their first breath. Deep ties of love to those who stayed behind were placed in an armored chest of cherished, priceless memories. Very little to nothing was there to pack, but very immense a vision was there to uphold. A journey on robust feet in tattered shoes with stoic hearts in rotting cloth embarked to a place where return home would often be difficult and hardly take place.
They marched through doors of social and political hostility. Through furtive actions, defined by one side as criminal and by the other as asylum, they made their way over the wall and set foot on the promising foundations of democracy where, without hesitation, they arduously reaped the fruits of economic opportunity. Day after day, year after year, decade after decade, they sowed the seeds of faith and created a legacy meant to fulfill the vision of this united land. Through moments of personal turmoil with undefined causes, embarrassment for misunderstanding the norms, the words, the signs, and, sometimes, the rules, submission to difficult and underpaid labor, unwelcome glances and words from those resistant to unfamiliar faces with foreign language and customs, my parents laid the groundwork for the coveted achievement of self-realization. In my mother’s womb, across a border created by man, in a vessel empowered by God, I made it to America.
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photo credit: yltsahg Liberty via photopin (license)