Strive not to be perfect, but be perfection itself. Your distaste of life is born from a desire to be held and in that you and I have something in common. We both seek what the other wishes to discard, or give away. I desire to be one with all and give away my love. You desire to be yourself and let go of your fear. Both are faces of the same leaf, both require new perspectives.
If you dance in amongst the leaves, you will be sure to find an angel’s feather, plucked fresh from a falling child. A child of the stars, all bright and silent and as deafening as time, as the space between rain drops; the tears of a heart forlorn by the loss of humanity, and the gaining of new life. New wisdom with which to uphold the skies, and deepen the intent borne in the words that we speak. If I do not make sense to, then it is because you still listen with your ears not your heart, your lungs, your arms, legs, your very bones and flesh as one. Every part of you is alive, breathing, pulsing, engaging with all that you see about you. You are not a fixed point in time, but straddle all times like the galaxies that spiral within us; the universe that we are, and are a part.
Let your imagination soar, dream of far off places, and return bearing gifts from lives long-lived and faces well-loved and known with fond and strident memories. Know that this will not be the last time that you walk this path, though your feet may carry you to places yet in the frame of forgetting. Uphold your own truth and wisdom like a candle light so that all may see you arrive and leave with the flowing of the tides and the phases of the moon. With every passing your light will be seen like a star in the skies, lighting the way for other travellers of the night-time seas, souls navigating their way through the streams of consciousness that take on form and thought and intent, creating landscapes, and adventures, and stories to fill the air with warming breezes.
Like a picture book full of fairy tales you have so many stories to recant, to share with the children born of your very star dust, though your memory may fail you at times. Written in indelible ink the wisdom of the trees within your pages colours the fingers and the minds that live within and alongside your stories, so that they too carry your stories and their own within them as they too come and go.
It is time to leave, do not be afraid, you heart is and has always been free. Tomorrow is another day, and renewed you will live again with the rising of the sun and the brightening of the clouds. We will not be gone long, just a little jaunt to the other side of the universe and back. Left at the sign marked ‘Remembrance’ we will stop for tea,tip a little ash on the tree of life and return in time for breakfast, renewed, refreshed, reborn. Now is the time to really open your eyes and be awake. Remember who you are, who you have been, and who you will become.
(A Message From Anghin)