Who told you to be ashamed?
The beginning of man-kind’s sin (ignorance) was to cover God’s magnificent creation — and to sexualise the innocence of playful, naked, loving expression.
As I walk into her, the ocean whispers “undress”. Gently, she draws me in, and for a moment, I pause to be invited deeper; to harmonise with her caress. Her rhythm, my rhythm.
The way you touch her is the way you touch yourself. Eternity. Union.
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You think you are what exists within your human silhouette.
But I say, you eclipse yourself.
Because really, you are all this — yes, everything you see.
And the sphere of perception you find yourself in, with all the colours on the screen… it all couldn’t be more you.
You are the ever-belonging.
Banish any thought which would have you feel differently.
Replace it with “how well do I know myself?”
And leave this question open as your senses take you on an adventure.
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Your body is of the mother, and within the mother, all things are loved freely; infinitely. She is not to be possessed. She is to be honoured, cherished, thanked, worshipped as the giver of life.
She is the ground you stand upon. Know this as you walk the earth.
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Samsara is Nirvana.
Under all conditions. Unconditionally.
An unconditioned mind is an unbound body.
Spirit-Matter
Marriage is the realisation of union within polar opposites — the remembering.
The great work is to remember, remember, remember.
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“What if I don’t belong?”
“Where do I belong, and with who?”
“What if the way I express myself doesn’t suit them, or validate their ideas?”
I belong to life.
I am life.
I belong to Self.
I am Self.
This is where I belong, because I am here now.
I am here. I am now.
Is.
Is.
Is.
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Relationships take the human character beyond his eye-dears.
Beyond his id-entity.
To realms he may never discover without first dissolving;
formed and unformed, like soft clay in the hands of an unknown, irresistible maker with many faces.
Who are you?
And how do you know my way home, better than I know it myself?
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When I was a boy playing football, I didn’t just want to be captain of England… I was, to my fullest capacity, captain of England already. I embodied all aspects of the role — I wore my hair like Beckham, I wore his jersey, his boots, his focused gaze. I even approached the ball the way he did.
Children stand on the shoulders of their heroes, incubating themselves within the persona like a chick within an egg. And gradually, as they grow, this idealistic shell becomes confining and cracks form. This is the purpose of the characters we play; the roles we imagine for ourselves… to be broken from the inside, in joyous exuberance, to reveal something the world hasn’t quite seen before.
We all need an egg.
And we all need to emerge from within the egg.