9 Apr 2016

Everything Hits At Once

The phrase "Everything hits at once" has no negative connotations for me today.

Surely as the Sun rises,
The final bits of my 80% filled 1Tb Hard Drive filter up to the Cloud.

Everything clicks at once.

6 months of constant uploading, to the best of my human ability and the limitations of wire and air. Twists and turns in the data stream interrupted by network outages, rearranging cables, plugs, internet settings, and Other Dramas. Slow

And steady. And I realise
there is no race.

I've won by giving up. Success is in the mind that does not think about success. Battles are won by warriors holding only their hearts close to their chests, and their spirit in their actions.

6 months ago the potential half-baked idea of a possible Consumer Affairs court case with my new ISP gnawed at me like a caged fighter I shoved somewhere in my psyche. The memory of insubstantial mental anger lapses affect little in my freed emotions today. So distant from the clatter and clang of a bruised soul that once was.

When it felt like the let-downs were just pissing on my then corroding life, I just kept rocking up to the show. Only by my consistent pursuit of serenity has the brainstorm become bliss showers. More and more frequently - I awaken in the due forming Still. 

Everything clicks at once. I can drive today. I could not two days ago. The bits filter up, the hard drive will be untethered, and my house another step sooner becomes the wireless voice-commanded haven I crave. Not in my time, and I know that, and I don't worry. I have a bed, and a back, and my aching abs feel the burn of doing things for myself that I want to do. Knowing I yet have plenty of time and space for kind companionship with others. And the Cloud is in control of the bits and bytes, not me.

Regrets have long faded, from the honest digging out of my own shortcomings.
Everything clicks at once.

Was I, back then, driving badly because of another person's demanding toil on my life? Is there a connection in the last three demerit points being lost whilst she's being a drunk in the passenger seat, doing what drunks do? Was she simply holding up a mirror all along? To the past or to the now?

Do I churn the questions over (and over), and worry that I don't have the answers yet. No, not today.

Do I hate her? No. Do I love her. No.
What beautiful things to say, for a man once so life-threateningly consumed by the fire of what was.

I say No to things these days. What beautiful things to say. No, to things that affect my ability to be of service to the world, to myself, to my higher power, and to my fellows.

I say no to things that dishonour me and my values. What beautiful things to say, for a man once so

Not always, but more, the freeing unwinds. Like fear falling from a bowstring.

To strike the heart of ego and kill insanity. To strike the heart of ego and burn. To strike true in the heart of the ego, kill the insanity, leave it behind in the wasted past, and to burn The Tower to the ground. Die, illusion. Die, denial. Die, ego. It is time to live.

I do not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it. It is simply there, a garden in the once was. To visit once in a while, or not. I can see the thorns and avoid them. I can pick flowers if I want, and take them with me on my continuing journey to wherever is.

(To look at my defects, to really see them and say, "Heh" and even let them sit there like unwanted shoeboxes and cables; pausing to consider their place, knowing I will probably discard them, not worrying so much about it, and going about my actual life's work) is a beautiful thing.

Life's work is life. Right here, right now.

Everything hits at once. Too much to recount the fallings out of place lately. Too many good things have fallen back in, like an arrow from the bowstring. Immeasurable peace, striking the heart of the ego.

Immeasurable happiness is upon me, nearly always just out of reach, yet I'm content - kind of the way I like it - the backburner of Want keeps my feet moving forward, and I enjoy the pace. Slow, and steady. One step at a time.

Tomorrow is another day,
And there is much to be done. I think I'll sleep in.

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