Heart(h)

This world will make you think you need to escape
— offering you endless ways to do so.

Grabbing your attention with the scary thing
So you’ll seek comfort in that next shiny thing

Until they become indistinguishable
And you begin to crave what you fear
And abandon what you love.

You work harder, to get to where you need to be
Where is that?
Anywhere.
Anywhere but here.

So you hurry, hurry, hurry, until you’re numb to your body.
Faster, until you can’t feel the pain (or pleasure) anymore.

Or… you jump at any opportunity to break through, to blow it all open.
And uproot yourself from earthly practice, with all this unearned wisdom.

A cosmic head, even further away now, from your human nature.
A snowballing mind that still doesn’t believe being here is enough.

It’s not a revolution you’re part of
It’s the same fight or flight pattern, again
But this time, the uniform is nice. It’s technicolour.

The only revolutionary act is individuation
And the thing is, it’s no act.
It’s a life lived from the heart.

For as long as you insist on thinking of yourself

As a fixer,
As one of the good ones

You’ll be dependent on the trauma
On the brokenness and the darkness

Do not become become reliant on the melodrama

When you engage, you let a war into your heart; into your home.
You leave the shrine of peace unattended; distracted by dramatic delusions.

When you’re so desperate to fix all those broken things
You fail to protect the one thing that doesn’t need fixing.

It is within the heart-space, that the need to escape dissolves
Just a little, then a little more, then it’s gone

And you can build your own world from here,
With your own rules, with all the energy no longer spent worrying.

Remember, when all is right in the heart; the home
All is right in the world,
And the compulsive meddler in us all, takes a well-earned rest.

Honesty to the heart frees the soul, cleansing like salt-water
It might sting a little, or a lot, but it’s the only way not to fester.

When one soul is cleansed, the whole world has a chance
To be seen for what it really is.

It’s no wonder the world looks dirty,
If you’re looking through a dirty lens.

We’re all tired children, in need of a rest.
And the most restful place isn’t the night time.
It’s in the ever-moment of conception.
The rapture.
When mind is enthralled with heart, and heart, mind.

Be at home, my friend — be, unconditionally, at home.
Where you can speak freely with yourself, and reconcile your parts.

The doorway is everywhere.
There is nowhere to go.
The heart(h) is here.
Right here.