Letting Go in a Conscious Coming of Age

It’s easy to forget to stop and smell the roses. Most of us say that we don’t have the time. We have somewhere to be. Maybe on another day. Perhaps in another lifetime.

Meanwhile, life – energy, matter, vibrations – is passing us by. We evolve slowly into creatures of comfortability, wanting to explore the more, yet settling in the company of less. As the cyclical trap becomes a widespread epidemic, the masses become buried in the illusion.

We wait for a shift in collective consciousness. We muse at the endeavor. We wonder, when does the metamorphosis take place from being into existing?

Whether the query meets a retort is unsure. Only the journey will tell, and only the burden we’ve come to call time will let the enigma unfold. All the while, flowers are blooming, trees are growing, and the deep blue sea is turning cliffs into sand and mermaids into man.

As far as we know (or don’t know), man is melding into machine. Communication is becoming obsolete. And the ground that supports our stance is merely dirt beneath our feet.

In a dim subtlety, the civil war between us and our beloved origin is more hostile than ever. Who will come out on top? Or will a treatise of peace ever be reached? Slowing down the pace and stopping the competitive race, we need to change; something has got to give. Why the divide? Where is the unison?

So many today complain of feeling estranged. In a culture so seemingly uprooted from its source, no wonder. The friction couldn’t be hotter.

If I had one wish, the warfare would cease. We would quite literally come to our senses. With patience, we would move again. We would breathe until our lungs could hold no more and feel how we felt when we gasped for our first breath of air. We would become less connected and more conscious. Oh, what a wonderful world that would be.

In the dark of night, we would look beyond black and white. We would see so deep within the lines that our pupils would turn pink. Possibly, we have been waiting to pause all along. I think the time has come.

Look around. Let go.