Haunted by the Self

Lately I wake to find that I’ve been haunted in my sleep.
Haunted by the fragile, threadlike possibilities of an enlightened Self.
She stalks me in my slumber, pouring honeyed ambrosia into my emotional mind,
Moving out past fears and judgments,
Making a way for a new Self.
One made of something more seductive, mysterious, and dauntless.
A Self more ruthless in her pursuit of the Truth, of the Righteous.

Haunted by the memories she places within,
I wake in convulsions, thrown out of Her sweet paradise into a discordant physical realm.
I become lost.
My translucent,
Half-formed Self is still learning to breathe, to walk, to sing…
Which makes me a stranger in the present moment,
Unsure of which reality I am really in.
Am I the self now? The one I see in the mirror? Or am I the dreamlike Self? The one I see
In my Mind’s eye?
Who am I, really? Who is she? Who are we?

The vulnerable pieces of her have been planted inside and are patiently awaiting
My faith.
They need to be feed by a truth the world has yet to learn.
But it will.
Every day we are making a way,
Breathing, Carrying, Bearing
A new body.
An earth angel,
Come to heal this planet and each other.
For each one is not separate
from the other.
They are all three intertwined like sweet, sweet nectar from the cosmic vine.

This body, made of elements,
This planet, made of dreams,
This reality, made of illusions.
Everything is coming from something into nothing.

So too am I emerging, a fragile broken mind,
Into a whole, embodied heart, birthed into a flame.
And from the flame, the Self arises.
Soon the haunting will end and the becoming will begin.

Every day I will become her more and more until the past ceases
to earn it’s place in my mind,
And the only space I have is for being.
Being her,
Being the Self,
Being the Goddess,
Being the Light.
Being.

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