Love is calling. Earth awaits.
You can hear the hidden cries of lost souls under the veneer of "everything is going to be fine". You can feel the pull of her promised lands, pregnant with the long overdue promise of life, love, and the pursuit of happiness we all undertook as our own American Dream so damn long ago.
Such burden is more often than not—I'll admit—too heavy to bear. The weight of truck stop castles, fast food palaces, billboard checkered highways and soul stripping wholesale malls, all the while, the pressure of the sick & weak minded, the broken hearted and eternally oppressed, kicking from her bloated womb.
The past eight years have tried to break us in half, we are fractured at the foundation of so-called freedom. But we can still operate as a whole, indivisible with liberty and justice for all, even though the evil powers that be lead us further away from the one call we are all meant to hear.
There is no more room for growth though.
Not knowing any differently we think there’s enough room for us moving forward through the future. But what about our children, grandchildren, and their children? Is there room?
Yes, there is. But in a way not taught by anyone...
We have for too long, looked outward, ignorant of the truth that lies within us. So we still push on—outward and away—searching for what is in charge of all creation, and what we were all created for, and that is to love one another no matter the fuck what.
We have flung our advancements ever outward.
Eventually we thought it’d be wise to fling it into space, into the nothingness of outwardness without any end.
We flung it like battery-powered stones out into orbit. Only to find absolute nothingness.
And outwardness at last imagined itself as less attractive. I guess since the beginning, hindsight has always been twenty twenty.
See only the wilderness within remains to be explored.
The omnipresent human soul, the only leftover remnants of terra incognito.
See, somewhere deep within our unsatisfied spiritual hunger pangs aches a hidden truth. We fear its upheaval, but there is no other way but to go through the violent and messy healing process of a rebirth long overdue because of it.
What we most ache for hides inside us, it lies at the junction of an enlightened core, it is abundant in the nothingness of everything. It is an offshoot of Heaven by way of Eden.
Yet, we have forgotten how to access it. We don't even wish to discuss allowing others access to it anymore. Our thoughts and prayers fall on empty ears because we pray of nothing else but for the betterment of it, in regards to ourselves, instead of our neighbors.
The sacred eye of the heart of everything it still beats, but we no longer listen to hear its rhythms, instead we turn away from it when we don’t get access to our expectations of everything it.
But if you sit in the stillness with it, in the deepest of darkness within yourself, you can still hear it. And it’s only getting louder.
It all starts by bringing forth memories of a more beautiful, more poetic world. One that somewhere deep within all of us believes it is still possible even when we try and dare not to speak of dreaming about it in lieu of sounding bananas.
We have become hopelessly addicted to a certain denial of it, yet, it's still there, lingering, and it nags us to hope. To hope that future is bound to be full of better days for the sake of our children.
The impossible dream of everything it is much closer than we have ever been able to imagine.
It shines within our core. It thrives in the memories encoded in the DNA of our past lifetimes, our ancestors, and in every corner of wilderness upon this planet, including that within ourselves. And it has nothing to do with fear and war and greed.
It’s right here, always so damn close to us, yet, at times, it feels so fucking far out of reach.
But is it?
Are we capable of believing it back into existence?
Can we have enough patience to hold the door open for the impossible to become possible?
Until the invisible once again becomes, visible?
And can we walk with healthy confidence through said door to a world where it sits at the core of every action?
Where its abundance flows freely through the twists and turns of broken hearts and satiates even those most thirsty for it?
Where its compassion becomes the generous byproduct of true connection. Where its addiction is transformed into fuel for regeneration?
Where its misunderstood litigation is replaced with collective responsibility that we realize we are ancestors for future generations to come?
Where our bloodlust and desire for it is quashed by our need for its real purpose and authentic capableness?
Dream A Little Dream
See I do, I dream of a world where the soul of it is sung into existence by some comfortable in solitude, and those who thrive in community, by those who value its inherent purpose and guides all of us into the belief that we belong here with it, and we must do everything in our creative power to preserve it.
And yes I’m very aware that it can sometimes feel like having a mental illness that ain’t covered by health insurance...but in the moment, that’s neither here nor there.
But, I do believe in a world where no one ever doubts their own worth, where no one has to suppress their healthy confidence in the natural gifts given to them in order to survive while conforming to an external standard set by a bunch of geriatric white men whose only agenda is fueled by a lust for both money and power.
I believe in a world where bliss and beauty are seen in—and through the eyes of—everything and everyone, regardless of what they believe, their gender, their past, or that of their skin color.
I believe in a world where the divine and all that is sacred are forever easily distinguished from all that is toxic, ignorant, and mundane.
Where it flows from every being and free of charge between all walks of life.
In The End
It does though, i'll admit, most often seem like this kind of world is a long way away.
Yet, if I sit still in the solitude of my free-spirited heart and soul just long enough to listen to the silence underneath this soon to bloom sunrise, it's already here.
And it always has been, and it will always be.
Yours Truly,
Ryan Love
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