asenseofawakening

What lies beneath the surface.

Reconnect

Gloomy clouds cast over the towering mountain, yet, I had the privilege to hike up its beautiful terrain with such amazing company. Despite the rain that drenched our bodies and turned stable ground into muddy slippery paths, despite the insane traffic of excited and tired people forming lines up the summit, despite the 20% visibility of the breathtaking view that lay beyond our eyes covered by fog and clouds, the experience was just as enriching and fulfilling as it would have been if it was a perfect sunny day with a more private assembly.

It’s the imperfections that create wonderful adventures and opportunity to see just how life can surprise you when you least expect it.

It’s because of the rain that helped me remember the gentle kindness of humans.. how words of safety from complete strangers and the grasp of a hand lifting you up to prevent you from falling is a powerful thing to be grateful for.. how the laboured inhale and exhale of breath in unison somehow forms a bond that we are all going through this together.. how the fresh gusts of wind and the sprinkles of mist on your face makes you feel alive.. how the plants sparkle when droplets of water catch sunlight.. how trees vibrate with so much life, growing and towering above you and all around you in such height and abundance.. how grounding it feels to walk on dirt and mud and how feeling it under your hands is just as humbling.. 

The combination of senses, every sight, sound, feeling and scent from this experience was exhilarating. I am grateful for this life and for this Earth and for these people. We are One, and Love is all around us.

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Convergence

Light and darkness are parallel entities. They exist alongside each other. And though opposites, they meet and converge when they create shadows – the silhouettes they create like a lover’s kiss. And, if you see this as tragedy, a misfortune, you won’t realize that sometimes shadows are just as beautiful as the light you cast.

Real eyes, Realize

sleep is no escape. the night eludes my truce for peaceful coexistence. lately i’ve been stirring into consciousness unwillingly, awake in odd hours and cannot return to the place where i can forget, where no one can touch me. sometimes i just surrender and lie awake in bed unmoving, shrouded in darkness, because some unforeseen force is letting itself known and i am left to deal with its ominous presence, because i know it’s something i cannot ignore. and for the life of me, it creeps up like a monster that’s been hiding under my bed biding its time.

it always happens like this: first there’s nothing, only emptiness and silence, and then it’s there, right in front of me – at the same time, all around me. this thing is omniscient and all-powerful – something primitive – perhaps something older than the dawn of mankind and even the Earth itself. i feel it is something that defies law and gravity, something that goes against facts and science.

its essence extends its intangible hand and reaches, through me. i in turn desperately and physically clutch at my chest, not knowing how to respond, suddenly overwhelmed. because out of nowhere, i get this immense feeling of falling and rising at the same time. there is this rapid combination of all my senses igniting all at once – an explosion in the cosmos. and there’s this sudden dawning – this absurd realization – that i am an actual living and breathing thing, that i am part of some grand master plan in this vast universe, no matter how miniscule. that i am an atom in some vital DNA – a coalesced structure that’s part of fate or destiny. it’s as if the core of my human existence just caught up to me and, for the first time i am aware of its magnitude and its importance like a newborn baby opening its eyes and realizing that there’s a whole world out there that is not just made up of dark and empty bleakness.

this substantial realization shakes me to the core and robs me of breath, my lungs start heaving, releasing choked sobs i cannot control. my pulse intensifies, and my heart beats rapidly. it’s not only overwhelming, it’s all-consuming. the simple awareness of my “self” – as a being – and this life i was meant to lead that is supposed to draw purpose dawns on me and i can’t help but suddenly feel EVERYTHING. as if my nerve endings are fired by a million electric jolts. as if i’m a sleeping machine aggressively recharging and waiting to be turned on. this devouring energy unsteadily pulsates in my chest and in the heart of my palms, radiating and vibrating like a light dimming and brimming with life.

as powerful as it feels, it’s in these moments where i feel helpless the most. my life flashes before my eyes – childhood, puberty, young adolescence – they all play like a glitched sadistic film reel, of what i have done and what i have failed to do. the fear of the future and the unknown, in addition to the present, all add up to the recollections of my past and the pressure and weight bares down on me that ultimately, i am a big disappointment revealing the biggest cracks in what i have become.

i am human.

there’s a small dismal part of me that has always welcomed the void, allowing its tragic form to wrap its arms around me in daily life, and the change – the feeling of all this disorients me. i feel like a lone puzzle piece that feels the whispers and ghosts of all the other puzzle pieces that i still cannot see. i am alone, bared open and in my most vulnerable state. a canvas painted on by foreign hands in the most boldness and darkest of strokes with no space left untouched. it scares me, whenever this happens – this onslaught of feeling everything so deep it hurts. because it is in these moments when i am the most lost, and when i ask myself the most fundamental question,

.

“Who am i?”

.

Unseen

For the most ordinary things
most people don’t give them a second thought
how could they?
they’re just always there
as they always have been
unmoving to the bystander
unchanging to those who do not see

but

if you look closely
and stay
long enough to observe
you’ll find that
nothing is unmoving or unchanging

that, even in some molecular degree
there is always something shifting
even to the naked eye

what goes unseen
can be felt

whether it’s through an incorporeal sensation
such as energy or vibration
or through some subconscious level yet to surpass waking life
that yes
this rock is alive
yes
this barren landscape holds far more secrets than you yourself hold
yes
this drop of water has travelled across the world
yes
you have lived and died a thousand times only to be born anew over and over again

yet
we are unaware of all this magic

the ironic enormity of our small juvenile existence in this massive universe,
somehow renders us into cold caverns begging to be lit with warm fire
our eyes glazed over by the dull humming of modern society,
tarnished by overtime and minimum wage crippling us to surrender,
distorted by the throes of superficial communication,
condemned by mental and emotional warfare that burn without a cause

all this

all this in a day to day basis
all this baring down like a torrential downpour
soaking through every pore in your body
trapping ghosts of ourselves in every crack and every crevice

it’s no wonder we are lost

yet
through conscious effort
through ridding of this mass indoctrination
through shedding skin and ripping masks
through love, yes, love
we can let go

and find pieces of this magic
every day

this is when I die
and I am born again

Cycles

I’m tethered to a raft in an endless ocean, with no land to call home, floating in a vast space filled to the brim with life yet all I see is its depth and its darkness that feels warmer and more comforting than a proverbial blanket. I don’t know if this sense of isolation is a choice I made or simply a part of my destiny. It’s crazy how the simple feeling of not being understood makes you feel so alone in this world – that out of 7 billion human inhabitants, the sheer idea of your most personal and intimate thoughts that make you who you are, is imminently and begrudgingly an impossible metaphorical math problem that no one can solve.

The sense of loneliness is foreboding. It’s this haunting feeling that lingers in the darkest corners, forming shapeless shadows that make themselves known both in sleep and waking life. It carries the weight of white noise that feels empty yet suffocating at the same time.

The silence deafens me.

I feel like my soul keeps calling out but is always left unheard – my cries only a faint whisper – ignored because of its desolate weakness, turned away from because of its distasteful guise. It frustrates me to the verge of insanity that up to this point I still haven’t met individuals who can see me.. like-minded individuals who can possibly touch the root of my being.

Yet, it’s no one’s fault but my own. It seems I have consciously and unconsciously sentenced myself to my uncanny ability to safely remain in my natural state of introversion – an inconvenient defense mechanism – shying myself away from people and possibly cutting ties before I can even acknowledge a connection.. I do try to absolve myself from the difficulty of social anxiety, but it’s crippling and with little success, admittedly ends up disappointing. I feel like I am not seen, even in the slightest opacity. Just as if they’re only looking through me. Sometimes I think i’m simply invisible – my corporeal state appearing as a transparent form to most.

One of these days, if i’m still left with no answers and still with a status lacking of worthwhile companions, i’ll just simply conclude my hypothesis that I am in fact alien and I don’t belong to this world or to these people. I once dreamt that Venus was a planet made out of crystals. From Earth it shined so bright in the night sky I thought my heart was going to burst from the sheer beauty of it all. I felt like it was calling out to me, lulling me into a hypnotic trance. When I look back to it, I somehow think it was a sign.. maybe a clue even.. that I was a part of that crystal planet. That I am a chunk that broke off and became an asteroid that fell to earth a thousand years ago, long forgotten..

I think my soul is trapped here, in this human form, stuck in a series of lives and deaths – a never ending cycle of reincarnation – with a heart that’s never full and a permanent feeling of emptiness till I manage to find my way back home, and I am born again.

 

.

.

we draw strength from touch

 

from being held by a hand firm with knowing

knowing that allowing them to carry your heart in their palm,

is the most vulnerable thing you could have ever done

 

and in that light,

that fragile state,

they entwine their fingers into yours

slowly

as if not to frighten you

like soft snow naturally falling into a hard crevice on a cold winter’s day

 

it stays like that for a while

something quite foreign, in your personal space

yet, you welcome it

because you need it

 

till spring comes

and the snow melts

turning ice into water

 

they weren’t meant to fill a void you were left trying to fill

they were meant to exist with you

alongside you

 

accepting you

in your full glory

 

your cavernous cracks,

your dark smudges,

your gaping scars,

the thorns you put up for protection,

all displayed

laid bare on an open canvas

painted by the people who broke you

avenged by the person you became from overcoming them

 

that person holding your hand right now

they see it all

 

this togetherness of being,

it makes sense

it’s the togetherness of falling,

falling

into each others arms

 

A monologue

.

i dont really know what i’m doing here

.

everyday i feel like i am reborn

not in the terms of renewal

but

myself as an unexplainable small dot in this vast universe

a clueless infant in this mature world,

robbed of its own mother

.

here in this empty space

i have

no sight

no comprehension

.

my small hands try to grasp something that is real

anything

to let myself know that i exist

.

but the external sounds drown my newborn cries

my pleas unheard

.

my heartbeat is the only thing i hear

.

i have no idea how to navigate in these torrential waters

i always don’t

.

as the sea level rises and falls like my shallowing breathing

this small body suddenly feels so foreign

.

i don’t belong here,” i think

– my first coherent thought

.

i start kicking and screaming

the claustrophobia dawning on this shell of a form

.

then

somebody holds my hand

.

or so i thought..

for it was only air that caressed it

letting its presence known

.

breathe little one,

breathe

.

you are here

.

i am

.

A Powerful Message

Es(Senses)

Have you ever focused on your senses at such an awareness of clarity that their very essence of allowing you to perceive the world around you felt so magical? almost even enchanting and unreal

The entrancing contact of skin on skin, the warmth lingering in its wake…the changing colors of the sky dancing with the bursts of the setting sun…the blending aroma of fresh cut grass and the first drops of rain… the whispering sighs of the wind carrying the elegance of each fallen leaf…the taste of dew in the air of summer…

And to have the ability to feel all this, all at once, it takes my breath away.

This

I feel a sense of duty to some cosmic cause I am not aware of – of why I am here and my part in its grand master plan. Internally, I feel the pull it has on my being, like a rope lassoed around my chest. The weight is all around me, invisible but with a force so potent it shakes me to the core. The blood in my veins, the air that I breathe, the steady beating of my heart, even the constant movement versus the stillness of my body… all of it. All of it is reason.

I have a purpose where it lies.

I know this to be true, but the knowledge of how I am sure eludes me. In its very nature I am a pawn to its set. Yet, I am misplaced somehow. I am a missing piece, swept away from the interminable current – a meager sheep distanced from the herd. I long to fit the space I was made for, the shape intended for this body.

Awake but unaware, here I lie in its inconceivable truth.

Still

I’m the type of calm before a storm.

Still and silent one minute. The next, strikes of lightning. Sometimes i’m not sure if they come as a warning, or as a spark of brilliance the gods have been kind enough to bestow upon me. Most of the time though, they’re a sign of dark clouds starting to form over the sky. It always catches me off guard, unaware. Because suddenly, an onslaught, a heavy downpour of rain – A tumultuous monster charging against the midst of silence.

I wish the rain would cleanse me, as it does everything else. I wish it would purify this dark void i’m left trying to fill. but i feel like all it does is it weighs me down.. or drowns me. Stealing the air from my heaving lungs.

I don’t even bother shielding myself from the assault anymore. I just stand wherever I am

and wait..

.

“Used up by the years, my memory

loses its grip on words that I have vainly

repeated and repeated. My life in the same way

weaves and unweaves its weary history.

.

Then I tell myself: it must be that the soul

has some secret, sufficient way of knowing

that it is immortal, that its vast, encompassing

circle can take in all, can accomplish all.

.

Beyond my anxiety, beyond this writing,

the Universe waits, inexhaustible, inviting.”

.

– Jorge Luis Borges (Beowulf)

Waking

.

Trying to remember a dream isn’t like trying to remember a memory

 

A thought of a dream you’ve forgotten comes in flashes,

like a hundred different lights flickering in darkness

 

You’re disoriented for a time

trying to make sense of all the lights,

the brightness in the otherwise black expanse,

seeing if you caught a glimpse of them all,

but your vision wasn’t fast enough,

unclear and unmoving,

you go through a blur trying to process their whispering sighs

 

Like key points to a story

you hold on to those few lights that grew brighter than the others

and try to stitch back your dream with the luster they just offered

 

Your dream then weaves itself without your help,

missing pieces start to appear where they once were

 

A story unfolds,

 

and suddenly, your dream becomes a memory.

.

My Self

I have never been more honest and open to my self than I have the past year and a half. It has been strange and terrifying and freeing, kind of like jumping from an edge of a cliff with no knowledge of what lies at the bottom end, what you will fall into, where you will land. And the only thought that’s truer than anything is that it holds something unknown and unforeseen, only the vastness of what is yet to come or what has always been there.

I’ve lost myself for years, or maybe I never really knew the real me at all, but in time found myself with my self and by my self…slowly.

I don’t think you can ever completely know yourself, in a cognitive sense. But you could perhaps, completely feel your self or BE your self; the sense of being that is in essence the core of humanity.

…Maybe one day.

i find myself in books

in writing

in words not spoken

 

i find myself in reflections

in breath

in memories forgotten

I

Sometimes,

I feel too human

that it could be a fatal condition.

Us

My hope for the future

is my hope for the present,

that everyone fall out of hate

and fall in to love.

My Own

I do not require anyone to hear me
just to hear myself
my thoughts
my emotions
are all my own
and to understand myself
who I am
my existence
I must first understand
why I am here
my purpose

to which
I learn

hopefully

through my writing

Reconnect

It is when we are alone that we come to know the deepest recesses of our thoughts
It is when we are with others that we come to know the deepest recesses of our hearts
and It is with (God – whomever your faith resides in) that we find the deepest recesses of our soul

Hidden

Our fears are what keep us from exploring the world,

within us

and outside of us