Here is what I know. Today I went out into the world and discovered. I reinvented myself. I walked the long way because I wanted more journey. I met someone new. We danced in the street. We had a long conversation. We discussed energy and false boundaries. We touched often while talking. She told me I made her more beautiful. I told her she did it herself. We hugged and told one another that we loved each other. I left feeling inspired and uplifted. I was connected to everything. I texted a friend and lover about the absurdity of boxing in ideas; the dangers of separation and exclusivity. She asked me why people are mean and told me that I make her feel normal. I learned about yoga. I challenged my ego. I chose not to be offended. I let go and was at peace. I connected to my breath with every step. I felt the pressure of the ground pushing back on my feet and still felt weightless. I was aware of my relationship to every person I passed. I tasted the air. I laughed without caring. I stood still and noticed. I listened to music. I decided that I would dance through the street for one week straight only stopping for sleep and bathroom breaks, eating and changing clothes as I go. The artist is still fucking present. I imagined walking down the street with my arms outstretched to the sides, middle fingers up, then making a heart on my chest and blowing a kiss to the camera. I acknowledged that I loved everyone as much as I love myself. I noticed my sadness and was happy for it. I embraced it all. I loved it all. I moved through it all. I reflected on the relationship between everything. I connected the dots. I admired the oneness. I was lost in a sea of energy. Not part of it, but all of it. I closed my eyes. I felt the sun on my skin and thought about giving warmth back to the sun. I was grateful. I felt the wind on my face and smiled. I indulged. I fasted. It was spiritual. It was emotional. It was physical. It was meditative. It was all one experience. It was everything. Everything is everything. Words are limiting tools that often fail us.
I hear you. Now hear me. What do I mean when I say yoga is dance? It’s exactly what I mean when I say you are me and I am you. Clearly we are not the same and yet we are. And the differences that make us so beautiful, at the same time don’t even exist. And neither does time for that matter. Its all an illusion. Its all just a dream. This is all JUST ENERGY. It’s shattering of the walls. It’s universal truth. Universal consciousness. It’s the collective mind body and soul in harmony towards something greater. Yoga is dance, dance is yoga, and really it’s all sex. Something we can’t put into words. Its connection and presence. It’s life.
This is me. I am learning. I am not perfect because the world is not perfect and vice versa. We need it to be that way. We need the ugly and darkness for balance. I also know nothing. I don’t know if this is a rant, freewrite, love letter, or apology. Note to self. Note to you. One in the same. It feels good to write. I question you. I question myself. I am curious about everything. I hate my ego yet it is part of me. I fight it nonetheless. I question if I write the word “I” too much and what that means. But then loving me is loving the universe is loving you. Thanks for the loop.
Still don’t know what I’m doing here but I’m just about done. Welcome to my process. Naked vulnerability. Open creativity. We are the creaters. We are the gods. God is love, light, and vibration. God is, wait for it… ENERGY. Life force. Life fucking force. Oh wow. Feelings. What’s this? Interesting at least. Sentences get shorter. Mind gets clearer. Going off the deep end? Perhaps. Starting to sound mad? Might be more pleasant there. We’re all mad here and fuck normal anyways. I don’t need you to get me because you already know. 😉 Is this writing? Is this language? Is this communication? Is this meaningful? Who knows. Is this poetry? Is it bullshit? Does it matter? Of course it does. I’m going to go dance now or do yoga or whatever the hell anyone wants to call it. I’m just gonna be. My body is a monument. And yet just a receiver; an antenna for what’s us. My movement is the story of my life. My soul is in you. Can you feel it? Do you agree? Do you disagree? We are always at war so that we can fight for peace. Just write me off as a hippie already. Bye babes.
scribbles for a friend 