The ability to instinctively and instantly connect with what others are experiencing has long baffled neuroscientists but hasn't surprised mystics or dreamers. Others are reflections of ourselves, representing the colors leaving a prism on which they all originate from one light beam. We are no different than those we run away from, nor are we different than those we like or attract. We dance between both poles of polarity, searching for the essence of our genius source planted deep within us.
At the beginning of time, humans spoke the same language. They decided to build a city with an iconic tower in the center to reach the heavens. However, God had other plans. Human beings began to scatter across the earth, and the language got diluted, fragmented, and lost its bonding nature. The story characterizes an impression of doom and gloom for humanity. The great divide segregated people. We grew apart in language, ethnicity, color, and finally built walls to protect our factions, calling it "nations." We painted pictures of our hopes, dreams, and fears on the walls of the fortification. We poured concrete streets, built sanctuaries, and temples, then placed our flags on landmarks to declare our freedom. Such descriptions aren’t any different than explaining our interpersonal relationships either. Human instinct ripples throughout the masses, from one to all.
Why is it that we need protection from each other? We are only a danger to ourselves. We need to move to a world where unity is the anthem, and divinity is the flag. We need to understand that abundance can be actualized through mobility without restrictions, and through love. We need to go back and re-assemble our legacy. If we believe in the unthinkable, prosperity for all is absolutely plausible.
If we go back in time, would we do it all again? If we get to witness the re-runs of our memories, how much would still be colorful? And how much would need delicate restoration? Over time we lose our colors, some faster than others. The more colors we use in every stage of life, the more that will rush back to us at a later stage. The touch of our brush will stroke all the places that we go to, and all the people we meet. We can choose to use expensive oil, or not use color at all. One instance will be admired, and the other will be forgotten. What impression do you want to leave? It's all the same to us until love is found.
We start counting the days since love was born. Colors begin to rush into black and white sketches. The world stops spinning, and we feel grander than life. Then we travel ever so lightly along time like there is no tomorrow. The future seems to be at a firm grasp, but as soon as we reach the summit, our lives gradually plummet, and it slips through our fingers like a fist full of sand. All of a sudden, time that used to be friendly meets us with frivolity leaving lovers aside. The more we hold on to love and cling to it, the more we lose our minds. It becomes very disconcerting and bewildering as what seemed to be yesterday's friend, becomes today's foe. Trust, hopes, and dreams dissolve and get replaced by fear, agony, and resentment. The reason for holding onto love becomes the very same reason for letting go. By the time we realize life's sarcasm, the tug of war will wear us out. Whereas letting go will carry us through a regular cycle of equal joy and pain. When will we see the humor? How many words will be left behind, unsaid? How many heartbreaks are we required to go through to get to that point of cognizance?
There are things that we never get the chance to say, and moments we never get to share again. A broken heart can heal but is never truly mended. Scars can disappear with time but will forever remain visible to others, especially when the cut is deep. It hurts because it mattered, and what mattered cannot be buried alive by black clouds of doubt. Love finds its way back because it never dies. We just choose to turn a blind eye and live with the pain like a little pearl hiding in a shell under the stormy rain. The pearl becomes so fragile until it shuts down and traps itself inside; still, it drowns in its hidden tears. The helpless pearl cannot find the means to an end to re-create one liberating moment of that same love. Seeds of compassion can spread endlessly, but you can never find the very same love again. Being wrapped up inside it'll always wonder who will open the shell next? So it leaves a letter, call of fortune to whoever unlatches it:
Why can't I feel like before? What is it like out there? And how can I fit back in? How many dreams are falling short? I don't expect anyone to understand me, or how I lost my dreams when I can't even recognize myself in the choices I made, how could I be so right and so wrong? I remember the times when i waited to hear your final breath before walking away or see your smile before being alone. Your heart smiled back with warmth at the thought of our love, your cells danced as you visualized our future, and you said your soul will be set free on the moon... with me. And i promised to open up the universe and share the sun & moon with you. Little did I know it was going to be the other way round, the universe unfolding what's within us. I didn't know the journey to liberation would be that harrowing. How does it feel to be the one, then life takes that away from you? Our hearts screamed in silence louder than bombs can fall, and we were falling faster than the speed of light. The crash hurt harder than ever before. It was one hell of a collision, one that felt like flaming asteroids belting and permanently scarring the surface of our beautiful planet. It felt like armageddon.
Nevertheless, I want you to know I'll never forget you. And the fact that you are reading this right now means the same. It doesn't matter if we are physically together or not. I already made my way into your soul, and a soul connection is eternal. A bond that lost its signal yet is still cherished with reverence, admiration, honor, and love. I am in you, you are in me, and we are part of one divine breath. That's all there is. All we have left. Sharing our inner worlds telepathically is the vitality that relays our passions to the outer world. It’s silently echoing in our hearts, yet it’s louder than outcries bouncing off mountains. Passion is such a mystery. It's the same box of magic, and we found it. That is what it's all about, this is why we are here. This is why we crossed paths. What happened did for a reason, and what is yet to happen is a result of this everlasting butterfly effect. Get out of this shell and find the soul in everything, little pearl. To truly heal is to touch with love what we previously associated with fear.
A Fellow Soul."
What you feel will eventually manifest into circumstances reflecting your thoughts. The signals always match with no exceptions. What's on your mind will trigger feelings. And feelings attract situations presented into your experience. Whatever is taking place in your mind is what you are drawing into your life. Then again, life is a movie that has already been played out in the realm of God. Sometimes we are on a spiritual high, and we notice the serendipities and signs all around us. That's when we get a snapshot or a glimpse of reality. Other times we feel distracted, losing our line of sight and purpose. This distraction is only momentary, it is translated as our mundane life. We spend a lump sum of our lives jumping from one distraction to another. We change partners like changing clothes. We worry too much about our next conquest, house, career, vacation, and social perceptions. We forget that all these ringing interferences represent a skylarking soul daydreaming in the class of all sentient life forces. In this state of absentmindedness, absurd things happen. We step over each other to prove who's more powerful, and we mask it with the notorious wilderness instinct depicting 'survival of the fittest'. We do despicable things to each other. We divide, hate, and fight in the name of God. We lose our souls in the process.
There's no smoke without justification. We've been breathing in toxic poison far too long. There's no 'you' in 'me' anymore, and we don't bother to search for it. In fact, we've burnt all the bridges leading to it, and we keep pouring gasoline in case the fire calms down. We burn ourselves in the process then wonder why we feel lost. When the flames are too much to put out, we accidentally burn our dreams, hopes, and faith with it. Our inner world transforms into hellfire, and we get comfortable in the heat. When we are completely burnt out, the dust settles, and the war stops, our ashes fall like snowflakes. We're resurrected from a zombie state. And you know what, all this is going to be countered. We will awaken, and time will swing in our favor. Although it feels like we lost everything in the blaze, the core of our being can never be lost to flames. A message from the core is too hard to ignore. It’s too loud to stay apart. The wildfire only invites the spirit into a vortex of passion. The storm carries the burnt ashes into a swirling motion forming a powerful tornado sweeping all the harmful sparks from the past that caused the flames to begin with. We are waking up. Maybe not as fast as we should, but it's happening. It's a tiny flame, but it's spreading, and it's going to spread exponentially. More revered souls will eventually move towards a steady orbit, as spatial bodies fall into a peaceful floating motion following a cosmic blast. Those who have suffered in the infernal fire will subsequently rejoice, and in due course, find their way to paradise.