Evolution : Living without limitation.

In terms of my own fathoming out of life's mysteries, a line has stuck with me. It chimed with me, when all else seemed monochrome. It had an unusual presence - A glich, corrupting all else that followed it. A tempory deafness ensued. The world furiously rebooting to try and recover from it's punctuation. What was that! . . As I grew into myself, this line offered possibility. A serenity, that seemed as distant as Saffron robes, and mountain passes. When all else had faded with disinterest, it remained. - " I and the Father are one."

For years this intrigueing puzzle of an explanation, humoured me. It did not pretend to be compliant. It was brazen, as punk statement as i'd ever heard . . A direct and confident definition - this is who I am. As perfect answers go, it did not lower it's gaze to accommodate the throng. It had authority and eloquence. An elevated sense of learning. A wisdom, that shook you from your dreams.

My fondness for such a confident declaration, began in my teens. The mirror captured an impostor. A gawkish boy with awkward hair. The window of the wardrobe, a world of external form. My side, private and racked with thought. The roving eye of the panelled space, blind to my motion. The bench light, hearlded the flow of prose. The silence, a perfect communion. A whispered form of dictation, displaced me with a form of creative revelry. Breathlessly, I'd be consumed in perfect rhyme and the pleasure of furious word. I understood in this altered state, there are many modes too feeling alive. I had found a possessive love. A thrilling angst, that sat like broken glass in the gut. Pain and the pen. The night still. A blazing rapture.

There is a perculiar peace in composing. A rare stillness to voracity. I tore through the night. The work way beyond my shambling daytime best. A certain grace, a shining strenght I wore throughtout the day. Raw creativity an intoxicant, a guerilla movement, a form of surrender. A Godly act, visited upon me. It became a private joy, a call to prayer. A communion that used me up, til an exercised exhaustion drew me to bed empty.

The realisation of this source connection, occured as if almost unnoticed. Life in high definition partnered a growing isolation. I took pause, to witness the most irrelevant of things. It was at this time I appreceiated the world co-ordinated itself around me. The subtle synchronization, comical. I seemed to be able to feel choices. The right decision warmer, with a weird sense of knowing. It's not till recently however, did I understand this raw sense of power. By now I was meditating, the stillness radiating like warm sunlight from a personal sun. Nature uncoiling within me.I felt the twitch and clatter of the world around me, with an uncomfortable sensitivity. I had circum to a world of turbalnce and strange surges. Accompanying this I found I had plugged into an alternative power source. A new dimensional bliss. My sense of self, shiftED beyond the usual borders of skin and bone, to reclaim a personal space. My evolvement uncontainable.

The need to write became more analytical. I observed myself becoming more disciplined. The waywardness of others, an itch I wanted to scratch. What occured was a patience. I understood my frustration with others, mirrored my own willfulness. It became an easy out to react but I knew it was more of a test, than a point worth proving. . . I had found a tutor. If I kept cool, I could hear the words, to unlock any particular situation. I just had to trust. It works well, but it can be the equivalent of base jumping. These whispered words became a firm guide. What had been thicket and bramble now gave way to pasture. I had an ear for the Divine. The outstanding note to this is, you instantly get that you can't pull rank. This is a birthright for all. You cannot pretend to be more wise than the next. It ain't your call. You can only be gratifull.

unfinished, more over the next week. 26/9/09