Aperture

pen drawing on paper, 2006

You’ve put out so much of something already. So much thought, so much vibration. In so many words, on paper, online, in your mind, in and through your heart. You’ve lit so many candles, and closed your eyes so many times. Inhaled and exhaled and sat and stood and sang and danced and collapsed and flew. But every cycle of something, every constellated arrangement of celestial bodies - you find yourself feeling an energy of “should.” I should write intentions. I should meditate. I should make a freaking vision board.
I.
Am. 
Over it!
I am done with the idea of the New Age. Maybe I’ll just call it the Next. Maybe there’s no delineation necessary. Maybe it’s all just one cluster-fuck of universe, multiverse, omniverse, whateververse. There are epochs and ages and eras, sure. But what does that really matter to 
right
now? 
Right now is about “being here.” Sure, ok, yes. 
But that is such a given. It’s just so obviously true. Yes, I am here. You are here, reading this. There, you just finished reading that previous sentence. Now you’re here. And so on. 
So what is “right now” about then? 
Perhaps this quote from Alan Watts:
“You are an aperture through which the universe is looking at and exploring itself.”
Sounds about right. 
About as right now
as you can get. 
Tonight, in this new moon in Virgo and solar eclipse and Mercury retrograde energetic shitstorm, I give myself back the power of exploration. I don’t need to do all the right things in all the right ways. I don’t need to close my eyes and breathe deeply if I don’t want to. Rather, I want to, but I also want to explore somewhere else. I want to relax and not have to fix every part that aches. I want to surrender to the pain. Let it swallow me, let my tears flow, let my numbness pervade, let my tangled imagination rouse itself slowly. Because if I don’t - I will risk falling into an abyss of thinking I’ve healed myself, that I’ve made progress, that I’ve anointed my wounds with a loving salve. The more I do that, the more I lose the essence of my gifts. Without the wounds where the light enters us (Rumi quote I think? or Hafiz? someone mystic) - I am canceled out. My own healing journey brings me to a zero point. I’ve had it all wrong this entire time. I don’t want to return to anything.  I’d like to build atop the drama and treachery that is my will, my craze, my hope. Without my admittance of the colorfulness of my being, I am less than nothing. “Nothing” isn’t so bad. It’s the deterioration of possibility into utter frivolity which is sad to me. Not that sadness needs to be avoided. I confuse myself yet again, and this is the first time I call it out but it’s happened more than once already in this long paragraph… the confusion. My own confusion. Ok, bring it on. Self. Confuse yourself. Get lost in your own maze. Explore it. And stop giving yourself shit for it. Stop trying to figure things out. Just be the aperture, look, and explore.