the End

the absurdity of self, other, collective realization has taken me on far different paths beyond all the daze that have been consumed on impressing others pushing pixels in attempt to make sense of the madness, to even, possibly heal something.

This blog started as a spiritual healing journey with Age of Aquarius Network AOAN.ORG (which now redirects to a reddit community), blossoming into some other varieties before becoming Healmonics.

There is no great speech to be had.  I gave plenty of those in the 350+ others posts. 
Seek them at will.

I am needed elsewhere.  This is the end of this blog. 
It will still be here for archival purposes at http://healmonics.blogspot.com/ , but not updated.

 

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Little Birds

There is a bird which frequents a stop into my camp site, gentle small and curious.  They hop in through the entrance, gleefully chirping and picking up any scraps to be found from the droppings of cereal that the mice haven't taken for their own.

This bird amazed me when it first hopped in and continues to treat me with it's kind curiosities from time to time in my reflections at the most welcomed times.

It is these small moments, the moments with the birds that bring about a sense that there is far more to the workings of life, living, becoming, being than a single mind could ever conceive upon in it's wildest wonders.

Had you told me years before now my journey, my destination to this point, I don't know if I could accept the lot of it all.  It seems so simple, yet immense in it's understanding.  Inner, outer, all.  Beautiful.

Little birds.

I have learned to trust the little birds, to stop fearing the unknown shadows that are cast, to fly free, at last, knowing that whatever comes is meant to enliven a soul that yearns to learn, to grow, to become.

I rejoice in my health, most of all, finding that I have been able to overcome so much more when I let go of what was expected of me and instead made the expectation my own to own and redeem.

Climbing the hill to go home in the reaches of Forest Park has at times been trying, but also given me an amazing healthy body to rejoice in.

In my flights recently on the bicycle, I recently did over 100 miles this last week, with a total of 1,200 miles since March 18th of this year on the biketown bikes largely to explore new places in the reaches the greater Portland area including Powell Butte and Sauvie Island.

As I am in wonder of all  these things, a gratitude overcomes me for this moment, this time, this point in my life.

Indeed, there is much uncertainty, more chaos in the world than I have ever known.  

Yet, as I follow the lead of the little bird, flying, flowing freely upon this journey and finding I am not alone in this, no matter how little in comparison to the vastness of it all.

The bicycle helps me realize this and has become my wings to explore self, others and the flow of it all. 

How do you take flight in your life?
z.
facebook.com/healmonics

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Love is All You Need

When all the words have dropped, spelt, dealt;

When all the songs have been sang, sung, done;
When all that was, is and has been;
All that remains is love.
All you need is love.

To become, to be as you are was a manifestation
of love - for no matter where you are right now, it was an act of love that brought you forth to be at this place, this space, this point in the journey.


Love.

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O.K.

sorrow, noun
1.  an unspoken intensity of feeling.
2. a spark of transcendence that punctuates the flatlining banality of everyday life.
3. a healthy kind of ache—like the ache in your muscles after hard exercise—that reminds you that your body exists.

So, I think most people instinctively think of a spectrum of good or bad emotions, like a spectrum from blue to red. But I think there’s another axis that’s more important: blankness to intensity. At one end is depression, in which everything feels dead, even the big things. At the other end is wonder, in which everything feels alive, even the little things. 
As a bit of trivia, the word sad originally meant “full, sated.” Which means satisfaction and sadness are cousins, both etymologically and emotionally.  - dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com

I have never enjoyed the question, "Are you happy?" , "Are you okay?" as though finding some tension-less state will bring about the desired function.   Indeed, I have seen far too many people okay, far too often, comfortable in meritocracy, the meager demeanor of simply being, without truly being. 

I struggle for the words that can connect together what I feel right now.   I have gone through so many shifts of perception, pains and loss it's difficult to form the words that express exactly how I feel.

The truth is I am in a lot of transition pain right now.  

I found standard work again after being away from it and in that finding there have been many tears drawn.   I am left wondering how people can do this, this work, for a lifetime.  

There is not a single regret of all the time I spent exploring the world without work.  Now I have found it again, I question it, wonder what is it's use?

So many items that people see as necessary, I do not.  I am not sure what to do with the money from this thing called work.

Yet, I continue.

Perhaps, not because of the money, but the struggle.  

That there is something greater to be found that cents and dollars here?

I am not sure.  It is an intensity that is difficult to define.

I know I am not okay.  The tears will testify of that.  But, perhaps that is greater than the okay?
I seek meaning in this all, that is the greatest hope.  Not so much to be okay, but rather, to know why and how.

I want to be interested, drawn, depending on something greater than more change, more than O.K.

I will press this life and squeeze it again to see what doors next shall open.  I will face my fears and name them accordingly. 

O.K. ?

O.K.

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