I Write
#Iwrite 08-02-25
06:09 I am enough. You are enough. As I give so do I live.
06:10 Here we are. [Sip coffee] …and I write. [Look up to the mountains, the houses and nearby trees. The birds chirping and the whirring of the cars; audible movement. Pigeon calls in low tone are the loudest. With deep purple-grey coloured colors they rule the streets their chests out proud to boot.]
06:17 Can we rush our being? Can beingness be rushed? Or even moved from here to there as in transportation? My mind can make it so. And my body the ever wilful servant thereof. With heart the cycling of vital Lifeflow. No force. So spirit moves unhindered.
06:27 So that I may do the work of being. To love. And be loved. For that purpose I practice letting go. Unwinding the narratives that have been holding me and others back from full being. The becoming being wound up in it so tightly that the beingness has been distorted into contortedness. [Deep sigh flowing into meaningfully deeper breathing. Stretch and expand. An opening and gaping up at blue skies now peaking through subtle grey clouds that enshrouded a deep dark ‘darkest hour before the dawn’.] Clouds now subtle grey since I have light to see. What more doth come - the Shakespeare in me alive and well - when light of full day evaporates that which made them clouds at all.
06:34 [Rhythm of breath becomes a hum. An outbreath lengthened by a chesty sound akin to pigeon hooting. …Reading all so far written. Sipping coffee with my first sip as writing commenced. ]
06:39 [Hum centred into my heart.] So whatever thoughts may come, or dreams or other resonances, may I be the chamber that doth purify, as heart does mine - my blood; my lifeflow; my allowance of what is, and deciphering of it all through cellular code and memory, -as heart does mind. I am in my frequency related to the stories that I hold, the stories that I’ve told. [Sound of nearby neighbour’s visitor coming with an inaudibility of words rather akin to the morning rising quacking of a duck or gander. Smiles.] My thoughts bring joy now, as this here writing, reflecting, humming, feeling brings me clarity and interconnectedness through sound means.
06:45 It falls away, the thoughts of they and me and us and them as I just listen, and sound the cycles of lifeflow through me, expressing as thought, as movement as beingness. Being. No longer away from myself and other, neither in the way of them and I, but owning this here ‘but’, written five, six, seven eight, and counting, words back. To own it all - as in owe no body but the Life that brings us all together and simultaneously makes our separateness possible, separate’d’ness the squandering of rights to write and be written by it all. [Added interception at 07:01 — The ‘d’ for dum - no longer as in dum and dummer stories of ‘us and them’ but rather a dum d’dum dum of rhythm building to give rise to meaning way beyond our wildest dreams thus far. The dreams of prophets and heralded saviours… [Thought interrupted as a harem of “mossies” arrive in sequence to land on the edging of the wooden structure that hugs the Lamb’s Quarters plants in seed now bearing fruits to them in abundance. The synergistic irony and symbolism of this plant name now recalled, spelled and entered not escaping me. Interception ends 07:07]
06:51 We are here. I sip my coffee and reflect on words I write and songs I sing. Knowing that the true meaning of it all is in the making of it, the joy of playing in the sandpit as we here all together rise into the morning of our time. The only time always now! and thus we have ample time, as amped as we give rise to being. May those that see the Light bring words to meaning and hearts to seeing as we sing the capital L into being through us.
07:08 A thought arises now as I reflect this here writing akin to a dancing rhythm that plays with time as with shells and sticks in the sand, moving them from here to there, from I to we to I-and-I and I-in-I. To flow the sounds through me in thoughts, in hearing, in tapping on a screen to type and enter in the words and silly abilities that play out the syllables of these spelled transportational devices that are my gifts to play with with pleasure in whichever way I choose.
07:14 I am enough, and in so all that I have ever been has been enough, as in that moment I gave all through me as possible for my being at the time. Time of now ever flowing through me, my forgiveness of myself and other paving the way to inter-seeing. That we may relate to one another, in our intertwined stories that weave our collective being and yet holds it not. For we are held up not by containment, but by vital flow that designs our bodies as we will our minds - our mine’s. I claim the love and the beingness, and not the sorrow and the hardship for the way is clear as I Love myself. No lack therein, no hinderance. As I choose to nurture frequencies of freedom. Those whirrings and chirpings of beingness that heralds We Are Enough! Looking up now to the horizon, a helicopter slips out of view heading East, to where the rising has arisen. 1 Hour 11 minutes since this movement first entered. I rest my ‘pen’, the encampment here created through the writings and the righting of my wrongs to release the flow. No really, I need to wee. The coffee has now flown right through me. [Giggles]
Thank you for reading, or reeding and resonating these typed meanings with your wind instrument of breath and thought through time and space herewith obliterated to show our truthful oneness. One Love. Be blessed. May you feel within these echoes a world of bl’a-blah-blah-care’ssedness.
07:29 [Laughs] I love playing with words.