When I first began my journey, I was lifting my head as high as I could stretch it that I could catch a glimpse of my singular self wandering about without its host, walking in goodness with all the other like-minded spirits.
I suppose it was to my benefit that the spirit of self went wandering, as they will, outside of the vessel which my legs hauled about without joy, without peace, without a firm grasp of love. I rose up to see that my shell was busy rummaging through the shadows for something resembling proof which I sought as if it were lungs for another gasp of air. It was love’s embrace that I frantically hunted, and along the way I discovered a more comprehensible portrait of who I've always been.
“It is what we do that matters most, not what we believe.” Those words escaped my lips with ease and with the accustomed speed I’d grown comfortable with as if they were were the hugs of children or the calming affections of a mother or father, or the evolution of love through the informed lessons of a grandmother and a grandfather, as if they were words flourishing from nothing less than Love and steering me to my destination which was love.
Man’s words cannot be trusted, they’re inherently flawed because they come from an imperfect animal’s deficient thought.
Yes. This includes the words that you read now. I too have used these manmade constructs to express my belief, unravel the thoughts driven out of my lungs by creation’s air, the loving breath moving through my being like affection’s wind piercing truth, revealing the pathway of love. I had to find the fit that was meant for me, the belief that moved through me without fear…
My belief emerged less from my personal calculations and more from my natural instincts. Early on in my journey I found my animal instincts emerging from behind the shroud found in my dreams, the spirit’s steely eyed assurance steering me toward my truth. Awareness and love came to me on the heels of the revelation that I was Home. I don’t know, I believe. I believe, beyond any reasonable doubt, that where I am is far more important than where I imagine I’m going.
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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