at the end of the alphabet, at tha furthest point to which our words carry us, we often find ourselves looking upwords and outwords, asking questions of the earth and tha universe, always expecting more, never quite content with our explanations of who we are or for how we got here. this feeling of discontentment with our understanding of our place in tha vaster sphere of things only ever arises from our attempt to comprehend with words, tho, and is, in part, a product of this last portion of our tale spent gradually convincing ourselves that things have beginnings and endings that we can recognize, and that the earth and tha cosmos will always provide answers to tha questions we ask. expecting that which communicates in infinitely more complex and compelling languages than can ever be represented by letters or words to speak in such a way that we can rationally understand is perfectly irrational, tho, and we need to realize that any answers we need are here already, twinkling within and around us, tho we’ve mostly forgotten how to hear them. we tha speakers of this tale of ours now need to quiet ourselves in order to find our way back to that hum of eternity that we arose from, to ground ourselves there, and to listen to tha guidance that can be heard whispering what needs to be done in order to find a healthy and harmonious outcome for this portion of our story.
at the end of the alphabet, we find ourselves with a choice to make. do we continue on thru this verbal and rational, physical and consonantal, yet somehow incomplete bit of our tale, deciphering tha universe into letters and numbers, yet never really understanding with our hearts, until everything fades away into darkness? or do we quiet ourselves down, stop asking questions, learn to listen in a deeper and more sublime way with our linguistically-expanded minds, and thus more fully experience who we are and our divine potential in order to realize what we bear in our depths? we who’ve given tha most ancient and luminous aspects of ourselves names and projected them outwords have forgotten that they are forever part of us, aspects of who we are that we’ve forgotten how to recognize, pieces of this one experience of life that we all share. we’ve forgotten how to truly listen to the all, for by telling ourselves that we know where we’re going and what we’re doing, and that we can take care of ourselves, we’ve mostly forgotten how to hear its luminous inspiration and guidance. we thus continue to seek outside of us for an understanding of who we are and where we’ve come from, constantly asking y and expecting a response from that which only ever speaks in its own language, but which is constantly communicating all that we need, if only we knew how to listen.
any answers we may find only ever arise by accepting ourselves as part of tha one story that we are eternally inseparable from, tha story of tha whole in which each of our individual tales as well as the entirety of our human story is embedded. only by doing so can we learn to fully play our roles in this tale, to listen to tha guidance which resounds in tha rhythms of all things, and with which we can harmonize ourselves in order to truly take part in this song of u and i. all that we ever need is here, around us now in this moment at tha begending, if only we were to listen. tha guidance that surrounds us and permeates us is often drowned out by tha sounds of our incessantly chattering voices echoing off of tha built-up walls of our own egos, tho, such that we don’t even hear it at all. it is up to us now to choose whether we will continue our babbling, or turn our focus inwords and truly listen to our voices as they arise from something greater and more universal than our individual egos with their imagined notions of beginnings and endings.
- Sqrwol, excerpt from the book ‘inwords’