The cost of refusal.

Self-becoming is what you will never get, that is the cost of refusing transformation. If you remain in denial about the role of death in life, you will continue to be a slave to the unconscious. And I come back from journeys in the undergrounds to tell you this story to urge you to breathe your last breathe in this illusion that does not mean anything to you– that is not you. Who does not want to become? To bloom? To return to childhood, to that freedom long ago forgotten? We all know the answer, we coward away from it every day for the wrong reasons, we even master the world we live in and poison our hearts as we do so with perfection. The cost is to never have lived a single day in our own world, to have lived in the kingdom of another man, watching our life unfold like a rolling mat, endlessly, obscenely, observant and now become nothing else than hateful, resentful and condemning all those around who access transformation and depart the illusion we have subscribed to. 

The prescription is courage. It is strength. This is what I pray for in myself, and for my loved ones. If you think back to this word “tragedy”, it is not what transformation is, but the lack thereof that gives it its meaning. The tragic, is the element of the story that does not get to see the new world after a catastrophe occurs. Those left behind, the injustice in it, the murdered, but I’m here to say that murder happens to the living, on oursleves, the tyranny of our unconscious attitude towards this world, the submissive child seeking mother, or father, to validate their place in this world, to tell them yes! Yes! When it is our journey to make, to return to an eternal voice always in us, since childhood, since before then perhaps, to explode into being, to bring every ounce of our beating heart into harmony with others.