Monthly Archives: November 2015

Thoughts On Heaven And Hell

“Without contraries is no progression.  Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.  From these contraries spring what the religious call Good and Evil. . . .  Good is Heaven.  Evil is Hell.”   —  William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

 

Yesterday, I heard someone yell, “Go to hell!” during a fit of personal disagreement, and it made me think.

The phrase is an easy response to people who are pushing our reactions, when our egos are in overdrive, feeding off of each other in projection.

“Go to hell,” a phrase used in a moment of violent frustration or seething anger.

****

It’s easy when someone’s done inner work, has resurrected from their personal descent into hell’s depths, when they decide that death’s cacophony  is no longer what they want, to judge the radiance of their inner life as a bunch of platitudes and easy answers.

Been there.  Done that.

That facile judgement, which I have doled out in superiority while offering no solutions, is the mediocrity of bah humbugism that reeks of cowardice coupled to complacency, because the inner life hasn’t been faced full-on.

Judgement is the world’s default setting, learned, radical, merciless judgement.

I already have been to hell and back.

Living invisibly while nursing the pain.

All of this the consequence also of judgement, of myself and the world.

When I hear someone say, “go to hell,” I think: “Already been there, too many times to count.  What else you got?”

I have been to hell and back, days, weeks, months, years consumed in its jaws.

My guess is so have you, or at least momentarily and more than once worshiped at the hem of its skirts, thinking that hell your most deserving place in the world.

That is the lie we tell ourselves, safe in our comfort zone of pain and inadequacy.

All pain is real, lived, vivid, and most important, it is comfortable.

Unfaltering comfortable, until we commit to our journey beyond fear into learned, radical, radiant Love.  Lived pain then begins to feel less familiar, looks ill-fitting, feels heavier and more cumbersome than we believed possible.

The irony of the phrase “go to hell” is that when we use it, we’re the ones already living it.  We are our own devils, in that moment . . . for whatever reasons, none of which matter.

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Along the way, I’ve been helped by angels unaware, and become an angel unaware to others.

Not because I am anyone special, simply because I am, and therefore, I am an angel anytime I am more than myself, and connected to Something beyond my self.

Angels and devils are seldom what we think: devils are merely fallen angels.

There’s a big clue there waiting for unpacking, the flip switch of projection and Consciousness, waiting for our awareness.

Angels and devils, one and the same, only a momentary choice separating a fallen reality from Reality.

***

I am an angel.

And so are you.

We’re all angles unaware, disguised for a flickering moment, waiting to go home.

Home to heaven.  Or bliss.  Or awareness.  Or whatever vernacular we use when we choose to return to Life.  It’s easier than most of us believe, choosing heaven, resurrecting our demons to personal Glory.

A choice at a time, between breaths, until the world is transformed.

 

 

 

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Ariel Rising

 

Asphalt

dissolves

under

my feet

as the sun

wrestles

frigid air

from

barren

trees.

 

Thighs,

calves,

lungs,

heart,

arms

merge

as

my breath

grows heavy

with

the cold;

without

warning,

I am not.

 

Earth,

air,

fire,

water

are

body and breath;

I am

no element

for I am now

every element,

as the sun

recedes

behind

more radiant

light.

 

Everything

and Nothing

coalesce —

on an invisible

horizon my

breath expands

in flaming nostrils,

hooves bolt

unbridled

in warm

blond sand,

crystalline

sea waters

engulf

an unyielding

surge of

black equine power,

and my heart

bursts in

a gallop

of singular

strength

and grace.

 

Untethered,

luminescence

pours from an

ancient memory:

 

I am

God’s lioness,

again.

 

 

 

 

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Thunderstorm

 

The weather

forecast says

a Thunderstorm

approaches;

it warns of

rain torrents

and flooding,

a deluge

immersing

our parched souls

and bringing

Love’s relief

to the too long

drought.

 

 

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