Where Before I Was Blind, Now I See

[DrewTerry]

Where Before I Was Blind, Now I See

On the glorious liberation and painful tribulation of a sudden shift in the sand, a newfound awareness, more than an epiphany, as sudden and unexpected as the day you were born.

A treasure by which unknown future cathartic forms of expanding consciousness masquerading as an epiphany of the power and expression formerly known to me as that which is theoretically possible but a practical impossibility.

This is a truth beyond any contradiction of faith, a metaphorical gateway from our constructed self to the realm of infinite possibility, with no need to test the strength of its conviction. Energy which provides strength is Wisdom for which there is nothing more.

Truth above all other Truths; the meaning and manifestation of the power resonating from and within as its presence is always there, silent and shouting:

It Is As It Is

It just is. That is -- all there is.

So deceptively simple as to invite convoluted complication, dereliction and degradation. Those who feel capable of interpretation cling to their minds eye fearing not what they know but what they are told they do not know. Those who are capable of interpretation and introspection cling to their minds eye fearing only that they do, in fact, not know. Yet those who intuitively internalize interpretation, introspection and reflection close their minds eye and open their soul; a feast to behold, fearing only for those they know, cannot be told.

The irresponsible consumption of the true keys to each layer of our awareness, vulnerable to our infinite attempts to break down the wall, slay the dragon and exorcise the demons and their on-going pomp and circumstance necessary to maintain our attention, keeping our mind’s eye off the wounded infant huddled in the corner of darkness laid bare by the light of truth, shaking uncontrollably but with the strength of conviction which has finally found its voice.

By the manner in which my energy and enthusiasm for self-expression is not now sanitized or filtered as I have no desire to gauge how they may be distorted in the hall of individual perception, this is divine, unto myself and for no other.

There is no paradox that does not, by definition, therapeutically vaporize the false identity of modern society.

May you always be blessed with the passion to fuel your soul, serenity to know your true self, and the wisdom to recognize the blind spots of humanity.

[truthseeker]

That is an AWESOME post, my friend! The elegant, simple truth is simply there---on the INSIDE, whole, complete, and completely PRESENT.

Access to one's Self still requires the will to proceed through the terrors of form and attachment. But nothing Real is at risk.

Thanks for the lightening, Drew.

[DrewTerry]

Thank you very much!

I wrote that about two years ago but didn't have the inspiration to post it until the other day...seemed like the right 'tun' in time.

Glad you liked it, and thanks once again for the compliment.

[coalraker]

Jean-Antoine Watteau. The Judgement of Paris. c. 1720
The best of Rococo

[DrewTerry]

[coalraker]

A Pilgrimage to Cythera, 1717, oil on canvas, 4'3"x 6'4"
-a fete galante scene of aristocrats visiting the island of Cythera which was reputed to be home of an ancient cult who worshipped the mythological love goddess Cythera.
-more airy and light is less diffused than Baroque
-reflection of French aristocracy engaging in open air entertainment
-reflection of the decentralized nobility in France under Louis XV
This new style has been known since the last century as "rococo," from the French word, rocaille, for rock and shell garden ornamentation. First emerging in the decorative arts, the rococo emphasized pastel colors, sinuous curves, and patterns based on flowers, vines, and shells. Painters turned from grandiloquence to the sensual surface delights of color and light, and from weighty religious and historical subjects—though these were never ignored completely—to more intimate mythological scenes

more about Watteau's passion of inner space, as passion expends itself in satisfaction.

http://www.mardecortesbaja.com/blog/_archives/2006/12/18/2555580.html