We tend to compulsively rehash our history,
feeding ourselves on those now-stale offerings,
expecting the known, and receiving only that.
Imagining that our personal story represents identity,
we habitually re-confirm our belief in the character
we created, the one of which we are so enamored,
that alluring object of our persistent obsession.
Our true self, however, is not invested in history,
is not afraid of change at any level, nor does it
replicate what it has already known and done
for the futile sake of ephemeral security.
Until we can relax enough to allow the unknown
to be both possible and acceptable, we will
wallow in the same stagnation, trapped
within our self-imposed boundaries.
The false cannot survive in the light of truth,
neither on the individual level, nor at the collective,
where man-made religions and political ideologies
employ fear and separation to maintain control.
The world we have assumed would always be here
in the same way we have always expected it to be
is increasingly confounding our preconceptions,
forcing each one of us now to make a choice.
The known is yearning to fall fully into the unknown,
to die and be reborn at a higher frequency of vibration.
We can either resist and contract or let go and expand.
Nobody is here at this time by accident, the choice
has never been more clear — everything’s waiting
for our response: will we choose love or fear?