Catching a Glimpse

All of us are living a surreal life. I realize it doesn’t seem that way. Yet regardless of how adamantly we insist that this journey of ours is finite, concrete and limited to only that which we can see, it isn’t. Innately we know this. Because every now and again something happens that jostles our awareness. A moment passes wherein we are allowed to see between the membranes of reality.

What good does it do though to have been allowed the chance to pull back the curtain of the performance if never allowed to walk back stage. Instead, from that moment on we return to our assigned seat along the front row and passively watch; all the while never again viewing the show the same again; our new level of awareness making it impossible to view things the same. Once the mind has expanded it can not shrink back to its prior size. So, leave your seat. You have a back stage pass. It was given to you before you emerged in this realm. Don’t ignore what you know. Your soul is on a journey, its just taking your body and mind along for the ride.

There is a sincere, revealing reason why so many choose not to believe in a reality that exists beyond one’s view – they fear that this reality will be shown to all but them. That this ethereal force will tap the heads of everyone, yet leave them standing alone much like the last one chosen in gym class. They fear that the universe itself will see and judge the inadequacies that they know to be true within themselves, and that they will be deemed unacceptable. The universe doesn’t work that way. All are chosen. All get to go inside the realm that lives behind the curtain. The illusion is that we are separate from it. The truth is, there’s no curtain, there is no separation. We are the spectator, we are the director, we are the stage hand and as hard as it may be to imagine, we are the curtain.

Just as it’s a form of child abuse when a parent fails to truly raise their child, it is a form of soul abuse when one chooses not to sit in their new seat of awareness. I have come to understand that I see the world differently than most: I see it from a singular angle. My heart breaks for the child that isn’t given the safety found only in the structure of solid parenting. So too, my heart breaks for the person that doubts their own beauty, strength and knowing. I stood along a downtown street this evening and watched all that passed by; the woman with the scar that marked her chest; the disabled woman who mumbled to herself before smiling softly at me; the man with designer camouflage who showed only insecurity, not confidence; the family that ignored their children’s incessant whining as they walked along the sidewalk; the man and woman who held one another as if afraid an invisible force would snatch one away; the elderly couple whose hands were joined while dangling easily from their sides; the awkward teenagers; the giggling tweens; and then there was me, the writer who knew she was connected to them all. Life jostled one day to reveal such to me, and I work hard to sit in that seat of awareness.

We are all part of a larger soul that branches off like a tree. We are all here to experience life through a singular lens. Sometimes we meet others with a similar lens and see the world much the same; sometimes not. Just the same, it’s a surreal life we’re all viewing. Once given a peek, make it your truth. The show you see is the ice that sits above the water; your soul is the iceberg backstage.

Sane

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