or is it? I have to give the architect here some kudos for the intent of the design of this abode tucked away in the woods is spacious with an intimate feeling, from whatever angle, whatever floors, we see, hear and our hearts electromagnetically feel one another in these spaces. In fact, you can feel somewhat of an evangelist up here, depending on where your mindset is. As of late, I have been consciously shifting thoughts. Certainly, I’ve been feeling imbalanced and not in touch with my heart, still do feel off kilter but at least now I see that and can devote myself to what’s ailing me. That being said the logos of our nest no longer could exist, Lordy knows how toiling it has been, perhaps it is from up here that helped me to see how my “commitment” to it all was not only eradicating my soul-search journey, but supporting a realm of die-heart and deliberate smoke and mirrors. So successful was the snake oil offered to me that I ingested it believing in the love potion when all it was a toxic tonic of deception and ultimate domination. This certainly affected everything around my heart and what it was pulsing out. Enter heartmath lessons.  It wasn’t so intense at the start, wish it would have been, it would have been the Tiananmen Square kind of red flag necessary for me to scram, but then that was part of the strategy. When one is so desperate and desolate to avoid what needs one hundred percent devotion, there is no limit to the chicanery to numb the dreadful feelings that made it to be.

You can’t lift the evil man to the upper room because you have made him evil—a teaching of energetic accord, the ultimate test of humankind. If you figured out the golden key of becoming in tune with the resonance of the upper room, where the ones that play the games that perpetuate suffering can be reseen, renewed, reclaimed without judgement or shame but only for the sake of seeing, you are well on your way. Most of us have a lot more work to do in not only seeing what we have created but that everything created in fear needs to be reseen in a higher way. It’s a messy entanglement alright. We are deep, deep into cleaning phase here…in the messy chaotic phase before everything sorts itself out.

Sometimes fleetingly as we dash through, sometimes with some reflection we may even squeak out a dream in a daytime snooze and lucidly play out how things might be, it’s here were we try to be human. Were we ponder how life could be better, calmer, more fitting and at ease. An imagined nip here, a tantalizing tweak there. Mix in this, remove that. Here also rests the undone, the things we’re wishing were complete. Time ticks, and tocks. Before we know it years have passed and here we still are. Somehow, oddly, it’s easier to live with the ill-fitting, the unfinished present than it is to actively step into change and create a new reality—the unfamiliar is just that and many here are more willing to carry on with the painful present then vault into uncertainty. Entangled in an uncomfortable middle-place, safe from overwhelm and unknown difficulties, safe from making mistakes or from unabated forces out of our control. Safe yet captive. The hope for an almighty alteration being just enough to keep us from thrusting forward into such change. Hope alone will get us nowhere, certainly not with a silenced majority, it will be our expiry. For those of us with hopes and dreams still, there is a reality beyond even those so long as you believe there is what you desire to experience waiting for you. We may not be able to hold the vastness of what’s to become just yet, but I’m working toward it. From up here, where the midafternoon light beams seep through, I feel myself unwinding, breathing deeply, soaking in the beauty of a dream come true. Here, I stayed until the sun continued to soften and the shadows elongated until there were none.