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Sturm und Drang, or Love’s Labors Lost and Found

Just this week I realized that what I had built in my mind as a theme for my life has slipped somewhat from where it began. If I look around for blame, I dare say that it is life that has intervened. Varieties of experience bring my awareness to things that make me focus on what I can do to perfect my soul’s ride through this life. Yet, I feel like I need to get out of the stream of consciousness that turns into a barrage of experience now and then, just to catch my breath. But there it is, some nagging reminder from the upper echelons of the coaching staff of the guidance realm, tapping me on the shoulder and pointing a finger straight and unwavering at that fault I let become a habit. Oh will it ever end? I know better than to let little things slip into stationary orbit. They become huge hurtling blocks of rock ready to smash illusions into a thousand tiny pieces. Better to get them out of the way while they’re still gnat-sized.

I haven’t been sleeping much. The maelstrom of thought inside my head occupies all of my corporeal space and I toss and turn until the wee hours. I drag through the days and face another night of being too tired to write and too awake to rest. This has been the theme of my week thus far. As I write this, I’m not even sure where I’m heading, but I trust this will come around to extrapolating upon the week’s cards. Right now, though, I feel as weary as the old King of Rods looks!

Some echo of connection with the planetary consciousness tells me that this is related to the people and places where love lives, where nature is ripping through the fabric of normalcy with flood, fire, and existential uncertainty. Try as I might to allow myself to get distracted by the little odds and ends of daily irritations and dissatisfaction with the tiny status quo of my little world, I cannot not feel what is happening everywhere. I trust the empaths among you have similar troubles, from time to time, or for some, all the time. The selfish urge to retreat and relax… well, that will come another day, when it won’t be selfish but just what is. With this thought, I push through another day and dream of sleep.

Here again, we find great storms tearing through the planet. Some fall onto the backdrop of awareness as others take center stage… and the number of lives affected in inverse proportion to the global attention paid to them. Again, the planet screams to tell us that some places are not safe for us to live in, and my mind stands in awe at the stubbornness of a good part of the population standing and arguing about the causes of a world out of balance.

As I lie in the elusive chase for rest for my mind, these things make themselves known to me. I cannot say for certain when the world was last in balance. Storms raged always, but where huge populations live in massive structures defying the face of nature’s wrath, they will garner more dire attention. Storms have always raged. People have always lost life and property as the Earth has poured flood and blasted fire and cracked open wide to swallow oceans and thrust mountains to the sky. People have always dared to live in danger’s path, on the foothills of Pompeii, in cities on great fault lines, near nuclear waste sites and downstream from mines. Is it that nature is out of balance, or is it that we in our quest to master nature have succeeded in finding the limits of our arrogance?

What the planet is going through now is a natural response to the life force pushing into new dimensions of living. What is happening with human consciousness is likewise creating rifts and deluges and sudden uprisings of sturm und drang. Control is too stringent, freedom too defined, morality too compartmentalized and reason, it seems, has left the building. Human consciousness wants to explore, must expand, will find a way, like life, to evolve, express, and elevate itself beyond the limits of what the frail human midget-mentality can comprehend.

All of humanity is yearning for balance, for a return to a lost ideal of humanity in touch with higher thought and steeped in compassion, surrounded by a holy and joyous natural world. I pray that in our reflections, we can recognize a still-living love in that which we have flipped on its head, and come to our senses regarding our relationship with a planetary sentience we are stressing to its limits, daring it to nurture us yet shaking our fists at the edge of mutual destruction. I pray that in our reflections, we resurrect the memory of love’s promise, and find ourselves transformed within the definitions of our empowerment.

Maybe then I can get some sleep.


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