Afternoon Realizations

I become tired of the words of my thoughts. I become tired of words. I feel summoned to something about me…something beyond the means of my communicating in words. This frustrates me, I realize now, as I long for guidance. I feel alone, though I know I am not. I am tired of this duality between myself, of wondering and knowing, of searching and having. They hinder each other in their bumping. And thus hinder me as I collide into myself. It makes me want to die.

I crawl into my heart. I sit amongst nature outside. I stand in the sun and pray that its warmth find me behind the clouds. I sit and meditate and I cry. I cry for reasons that I don’t understand. I cry for a reason that cannot be rationalized, because the feeling that fuels them is not within my understanding to describe. I am not sad, I am not mad, and my only frustration stems from the wondering of why this is happening to me. Though truly…what does it matter?

My feelings are what they are, beyond words. They wish to be left this way, in their truth. I wish to be left to myself, in my truth.

In this longing I wonder of God. God… the energy of all. God…The controversial name on which many place their many meaning and interpretations. The God I recognize…is like my emotions. There is no need for definition; there is only that which it is. This cannot be articulated with justice, for the justice of it, is not within the ability of labeling, I feel. Names and titles are merely references to what truly exists. Names and titles are not what exists.

I sit in the grass beneath the clouded sky. The warmth of sun will not stay with me long. There are too many big puffy clouds. I don’t wish to curse them, though my desire is that they weren't there. My desires…have nothing to do with the way things unfold around me, at least, not always. I think for a moment about cloud busting, though, the idea of commanding for my will and want alone disturbs me. I leave it be. I don’t wish to be commanding. I just want to be within that which simply IS. Within myself, within my place in the universe.

A strange feeling in my chest pinches me. I keep crying…It makes me wonder why but…I loathe this wondering. I want to shed myself of this wondering. It makes me want to die because it never seems to be satisfied. I just want to cry. I just want to feel what arises in me as it is. I wish to strip myself of my want to label as my means of understanding. I want to be as free as the tears that stream from my eyes, they are un-needing of reason. Or perhaps, their reasons are already understood by them without questioning. I wish to be in this way…to make my spirit naked of questioning and description. I wish to be beyond words. Merely being, merely an experience.