I am a collection of decisions,
and a product of my daily breath.
From the second I existed in my mother’s womb,
I became a product of decisions.
Opening my eyes for the first time,
taking my first breath,
how the doctor or nurse carried me —
all of it plays a role in my decisions now.
The toy I once loved growing up,
the gaze my parents gave me as a child,
all of it plays a part
in how I feel about myself today.
Each seemingly new decision I make
is referenced and stacked
against moments known and unknown to me.
Because surely,
my favorite childhood toy is a part of who I am,
and the decisions I will make.
Radical, yes.
But who really am I
if not time itself,
the breath,
and every unfolding that has ever happened?
Surely, I am in time,
and a part of time,
in this borrowed body
in which I experience.
Yes, this body is borrowed.
Because who I am,
or my sense of self,
is a product of my environment
and the decisions I made
from the information gathered
within it.
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READ MORE ON SUBSTACK…
#presence #selfawareness #substack
Now Is History
Stories of today will one day be revered, like the Renaissance.
Our bones will be dug up like fossils, evidence of a once-upon-a-time.
But does today feel like such a moment?
Does today feel like history worth looking back on
in amazement… or curiosity?
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In some way, we all were,
and are in the isness of reality.
We’re planting seeds of history,
moments we have truly lived.
Moments that unfold with a sense of normality,
as our minds hold on to patterns,
building familiarity,
and stripping what is
into what is already known,
into what feels not so special.
Yet this moment will be revered,
and holds as much weight as the next breath.
⸻
Is this moment that precious?
Is our time, my time, that precious?
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READ MORE ON SUBSTACK…
#presence #selfawareness #substack
Feeling — raw contact with the unthinkable.
Manifestation without time.
A pure change in the atmosphere of being.
Easily brushed over, yet completely a phenomenon.
Mind, thought — all exist within time.
But the simple feeling of a screwdriver brushing against my skin invokes instant change.
Raw manifestation.
More true than imagination or desire.
A greater distance from the “Godly” abstraction of the perceived world.
Static life and its seeming continuation are just as raw, yet they cannot amount to the feeling of a screwdriver imprinting its existence in this moment with the force I press against my skin.
Skin — a container on the surface of the unthinkable.
A mirage.
A simple mirage of the formless expressing contact directly.
Or perhaps simply expressing self-contact.
Which begs the question:
Is this doing being done?
Because if it is being done, there is a doer of the doing — and the feeling becomes subject to the doer.
Incredible is life.
Both true and untrue.
Both fragile and yet completely non-existent.
For in every moment, being isn’t truly there.
And in that sense, there is nothing.
#life #selfawareness #feeling #being
Self Confirmation
A blurry line abstracted by duality and otherness.
A righthood and falsehood of reality — the unsolvable paradox in which right and wrong are synonymous.
Nevertheless, play within stillness.
Play within being.
Life freely moving, yet crippling when being loses sight of true self-reference without negating stillness.
On a human level, a beautiful dance between form and formless.
#life #selfawareness #relationshipwithgod #selfreflection
The sweetest nectar of experience lies in the comfort of solitude felt in pure presence.
Call me naïve, call me ignorant, call me silly for creating an opposition to a force that encompasses the entirety of existence. Yet surely I feel that experience cannot fully amount to the nature of stillness found in self-solitude.
A deep love and acknowledgment of the unfolding—clearly contrasted with the adversity of experience—cannot amount to this moment. Eternally unfolding, as time trails behind the static continuation of experience.
Looking to the future is silly, for it takes me away from this. Words unfold as they form, with the intensity of breath and a pure love ushering through the being that I am.
Call me naïve. I would rather be naïve than not feel this, and not put it into words that fall short of the experience, yet remain so completely intertwined with it.
And surely, perhaps, reality with other(s) may one day sync in such a way—only time can tell. But surely this moment stands above all in purity.
#life #presence #solitude #stillness
“Prisoner to outcome and conclusion. Conditioning so embedded and strengthened by uncertainty. Effort meeting uncertainty, with uncertainty fucking effort endlessly—for the unforeseen future reward or complete failure.
A fucking so complete that continuing is absurd and stopping is unfortunate. Brave are the ones who strike gold; free are the ones who walk away without wondering what if.
Insane and alive are the ones who start the dig to begin with.
Cheers to the fucking dig. 🥂
Taking my daily dose of the fucking.”
— Shingirai
#live #presence #theherosjourney
The story of my life, but nevertheless stories. True happenings, true moments. Seeing where I was wrong to be right. Seeing where I passed judgment to free thyself. I’m a subject of my own environment. The environment is a subject of experience, and experience simply just is, like the silence and the sound unfolding as awareness flows with each unfolding word. Staring at the mirror of reality, unfolding. Static continuation of form feeding the illusion of time, but underneath the iPad is iPadding, the journal is journaling. Being. Form and the formless. Human, being.
#SL #mirror #innerwork
The world gave, but now I give to myself.
Love.
Attention.
Validation.
Acceptance.
Time.
Energy.
In solitude.
Loosening the need for connection.
Loosening expectations.
Loosening dependency.
Restoring balance.
Meeting my reflection without an enemy, and
embracing the human dance of separation.
#solitude #journal
