Change of Light – Following that which changes you

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” – Wayne Dyer




Holding my hands close together, I formed a tenuous cup to hold the growing ball of light. Spreading its warmth through my body and then through the room, it grew whiter with power not of this world, nor of that, but from the synergy of conflict and need present in my heart and in the heart of the tree dwellers. My incantation wasn’t of an arcane sort, but a prayer to the assembly of clouds, gathering to see the trial of feelings. He trespassed against the royal ordinance of the reigning king, his passion and impudence seen in his actions, for his dancing and mourning vacillated all day and night through the weeks. The light now affected the countenance of all in the room, faces showing the betrayal of their minds against their self control, for in spite of themselves, a feeling of joy spread through the room like mist in the valleys of darkened forests. I released my spell with a loud clap, and with relief observed the judges and juries of my peers change with the passing seconds. My point was clear, we can all change when our environment changes. This example pressed all to note that feelings should never lead, when light, objective light, can change even the dampened sorrow and tepid happiness of our habitual thoughts. To yield control to that light which can change us, to capture control of feelings, this is where the transformation begins…

Nature of the Beast

“I think that if the beast who sleeps in man could be held down by threats of any kind, whether of jail or retribution, then the highest emblem of humanity would be the lion tamer, not the prophet who sacrificed himself.”Boris Pasternak 

frenchtwist

I stared into the abyss, long and hard, and became the evil. The evil, this is what draws me, so unspeakable the acts, the players, yet, so alluring. Why? I pulled my thoughts back, and not quick enough, for long writhing things, slimy with lies and deceit, slapped me down.  Lying there, head bowed and sweat stinging my eyes, I knew my visage had changed. It allowed me to crawl away, but in my soul I bear the young scars of the beast. I am tainted, bruised without recovery, and bear the purple and yellow-green signature of one bold, yet foolish enough, to stare the beast down. These scars validate me to fight in the battle of the mind. Long will be the nights, prayers for the morning vehemently spoken. Calling out a challenge, the fight came to me. Why did I challenge it? I did it for those I meet at every moon rise, those hurt and trapped. I did it to free them, to know their battle. How can I help unless I too know the ways of the beast. Ways that disappear with light, yet remain within. Ways that never forgive you for your violation of fear.  My fellow soldier, I offer you my assistance, let’s fight this evil together. Cast your lot with me, I bear the scars, I have walked in your shoes. This will end but we must persist until the rising of the moon, the rays of light will mark our path away from the edge. It is the nature of the beast to kill and maim, it is the nature of those bold in life to bear those injuries and yell, “WE WILL NOT FEAR!”

Related Post: The Fall

Nature of the Beast

“I think that if the beast who sleeps in man could be held down by threats of any kind, whether of jail or retribution, then the highest emblem of humanity would be the lion tamer, not the prophet who sacrificed himself.”Boris Pasternak 

frenchtwist

I stared into the abyss, long and hard, and became the evil. The evil, this is what draws me, so unspeakable the acts, the players, yet, so alluring. Why? I pulled my thoughts back, and not quick enough, for long writhing things, slimy with lies and deceit, slapped me down.  Lying there, head bowed and sweat stinging my eyes, I knew my visage had changed. It allowed me to crawl away, but in my soul I bear the young scars of the beast. I am tainted, bruised without recovery, and bear the purple and yellow-green signature of one bold, yet foolish enough, to stare the beast down. These scars validate me to fight in the battle of the mind. Long will be the nights, prayers for the morning vehemently spoken. Calling out a challenge, the fight came to me. Why did I challenge it? I did it for those I meet at every moon rise, those hurt and trapped. I did it to free them, to know their battle. How can I help unless I too know the ways of the beast. Ways that disappear with light, yet remain within. Ways that never forgive you for your violation of fear.  My fellow soldier, I offer you my assistance, let’s fight this evil together. Cast your lot with me, I bear the scars, I have walked in your shoes. This will end but we must persist until the rising of the moon, the rays of light will mark our path away from the edge. It is the nature of the beast to kill and maim, it is the nature of those bold in life to bear those injuries and yell, “WE WILL NOT FEAR!”

Related Post: The Fall

The Stairway to Heaven is not for sale

“In the blink of an eye wealth disappears, for it will sprout wings and fly away like an eagle. ”- Proverbs
 


I believed that an abundance of possessions would make me happy. My entourage followed me around faithfully as long as the money and parties flowed. I took security in my future by how much I could stash. During these anxious moments, I felt pressured. Pursued by the need to get more, to be more, to gather and gather until my storehouse was overflowing. The more I gained, the more I obsessed over security to protect my belongings and hold on to my little corner of the world.  I started packing guns and rigging traps. Sorry man I was, now that I had all this: money, women, “friends”, pretty things and wild times, I felt burdened with the care of a shaking empire. The weight bore heavy on me, knowing that if I skipped a beat I’d lose it all. Responsibilities put their chains on me and whipped me into submission.


The pressure slowly drove me down. Finally, in an economic suicide, I began to let all these things fall through my fingers; every moment of letting go felt like razors drawn across my soul. Left with nothing, but a hurting body, tortured by abuse and late nights; I found myself there, broke, lonely, hurting, and questioning. My prayers turned from, “protect my stuff lord”, to “thank you for this beautiful day and health”. Slowly as I turned from my selfish pursuits and let my “stuff” go, I rebuilt my life. Things are returning again, however, I hold them loosely. I’m more than my belongings and my friends. This time I’m going to be successful, without the burden of having to be a success. Let go, look for those things which are above what you can see, you’ll then have riches without sorrow.


“The blessing of the Lord makes one rich and He adds no sorrow to it.” – Proverbs 

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine

video by Wes King taken from youtube: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fS5843K79NQ)