Well, if you're reading this, I guess I've managed to keep this going for one more week!
Black ink in this journal often indicates some sort of reflection or waking memory. I remember this period in my life as a time of great tranquility and peace...the skies seemed to come alive every day, just for me. I remember living in this reality for a long season, basically up until I assumed it was my new reality forever.
At some point, I fell back down from the blissful heights of mindful peace, back to the trials, tribulations and outright troubles of regular human life...I guess I couldn't remain unaffected forever. But I brought back with me a deep inner peace. I learned how to tap that meditative mindset through conscious breathing, so I could always revisit paradise, even while conducting day to day activities. All it takes, is consciously setting everything else aside.
I know, that either sounds either like a load of bullshit or just impossible to do, but once you've learned to do this simple thing, all the answers you need come to you at your own behest. What to say next, what note to play next, where to go or what to do, the answers are always within reach, from a place deeper than the realm of intelligence...from the realm of the soul, or the intuition.
This same appreciation I was living in allowed me to gaze upon individual blades of grass, and the life that rested on them. It led to dreams of exploring wilderness as a part of it, and of flying beings made of rainbow tinted light energy.
I've noticed a difference in the quality of my dreams based on the quality of how I'm choosing to live my life, but you know, it's not just that simple. Because you see, I've also lived through the experience of watching my life spin back towards turmoil and chaos because of the dreams I was having.
I believe that's somewhat aligned with what the Buddhists call "interdependent and co-arising," though I admit, I may have missed the point there. But my quality of life depends on my dreams, and the quality of my dreams is likewise dependent on how I'm choosing to live my life. When intellect serves intuition dutifully, I am at peace, I am whole.
Why then, do I seem to go through cycles of coming in and out of higher consciousness? Ebb and flow, I suppose. A rose bush can't stay in bloom all year. Falling out of consciousness then, may be as much of a gift as rising up to its dizzying heights! Because all we can know, we can only know by way of comparison and contrast.
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