the power of art and the feels
for it is through feeling that we can relate
“i couldn’t help but notice your pain! my pain? it runs deep, share it with me!”
- “pain” by tupac
i can remember hearing this song for the first time and shortly thereafter the experience of writing an essay in my (artistic) Voice, and feeling like wow, i can write, or at the very least, wow, i have to write.
while i can’t remember all the words contained therein, the overall takeaway was one where the realization hit me that art, in all its form, whenever it was created, could evoke a feeling.
taking it a step further, even if the story was not my story, if i knew that feeling, i could relate. if Batz knows happiness, and Kobe knows it as well, regardless of the experience that takes them there, they can vibe to the energy of the feeling.
and for me, in relating to the journey of another, i didn’t feel so alone.
this lit my yearning to want to do my part in helping to lift the world around me by being a Light.
but how can you do that if you don’t have the energy or ability to manage your own life?
and that’s a question, i’ve grappled with off and it’s part of what led me to search or
“seek and ye shall find”
as it’s been written.
and you know what? i’ve found many things in my journey because on some level, i’ve always felt called towards exploring the numinous characteristics of life.
perhaps it’s the 4 & 5D characteristics of it simultaneoussly feels to discover new life and life as they converge then disperse because that’s what life feels like - both well put together and utterly chaotic.
like sometimes it feels like i’m swimming through the great jigsaw puzzle sea as the picture, which i thought was once complete, was in fact, missing a whole section of pieces, all of which come crashing down.
another less poetic but just as anxiety ridden visual is that of jumping into bed for rest only to land on a beautiful, soft woven quilt and as soon as you hit, all the threads unravel and the only thing that can be done is to fall through.
and keep falling through an endless series of complete pieces, unraveling and reforming, and all again.
it’s wild because there’s a recognition and appreciation for the unique breath that my soul is, yet it’s the slowest boil to enlightment, one where it seems like right when it’s about to be ready to roll:
bub-pop, pop, pop…
bucket of ice gets dropped into the pot and:
ssssssssss-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
perhpas this state of continued awakening is not all it’s cut out to be. or rather, it’s the cuts that we need, in order to be. it was said to me once that enlightenment wasn’t about being blissed out, it was about being - period.
yawnin’ yawnin’ yawnin
all i’m doing is yawnin’
when we can arrive to a place where the mundane of existence is more exciting than the peaks, that’s freedom.
yawnin’ yawnin’ yawnin
all i’m doing is yawnin’
it’s time to wind this down. you know, i’ve grown so used to the valley, it doesn’t phase for long, save for the inevitable surprise, when the surprise itself is surprising, rises up, it does its job and BOOM, surprises.
but the thing there is, in a broader sense, that isn’t surprising.
yawnin’ yawnin’ yawnin
all i’m doing is yawnin’
soul enjoy, dear sojourner for its rise!
and shine! and give up your glory, glory! even if you feel like
yawnin’ yawnin’ yawnin
all i’m doing is yawnin’
rinse, repeat, then run it, run it, run it…
all the way back.
[end transmission]