Scope of Reality

What is reality? There are many times I wonder this, but not in a hard, under-the-microscope way with full piercing attention and strenuous, needle-point questioning, but with a vague and extremely in awe open-ended trust.

I don’t fear much.

I’ve come to find that fear always begets fear, except for those rare people and circumstances that absorb and alchemize fear. I am one of those people, I’ve come to learn. I am also one of those people who can express it all and change the tone of an entire room. In these instances, I could sit and question very hard on what is reality. I could fear the entire net of reality, but why question or fear when I could simply enjoy the fascinating beauty of it all and adore another who has such similar power?

Is it wrong to love another so fast and so deeply? The answer is no. That is the truth. Why is it the truth? Because, I trust myself. I trust him too. But even more so, I trust the universe and how it works. I trust the entire net of reality, no matter how strong, weak, or malleable, and I trust it because it’s not run by the government or by TV or by celebrities or by the world. It’s run by something much bigger, older, wiser, and far more mysteriously powerful. It doesn’t scare me either because over and over again, through nature, the sky, the mountains, the birds, my cat, and every animal, I have learned, sensed, and acquired what true love, true trust, and true spirituality feels like.

It is clean.

It is moment to moment incredibly strong. It is incredibly wise and eternal, much like the earth smell I breathed in yesterday from the dirt on my cat’s fur—the dirt that held her as she laid and rolled into my arms, from the wild and free, unable-to-be-programmed-nor-humanly-affected earth, into my similarly unable to be affected arms. I have always been strong, but I have not always been loving. I wasn’t born with self-love. I had to heal and work incredibly hard to achieve it and maintain it and strengthen it on a daily basis which is not easy in this world, especially nowadays. I did it for myself, but as I’m learning now, I did it for love too.

It’s odd to talk about, I’ll admit, not because I don’t believe or trust love, but because I know these words are going to be public, much like our relationship and our animal family as we go out in the world—this highly aware, intrusive at times, judgmental, and nosy world. No wonder so many couples, truly in love couples, couple up and drop off the face of the earth. Truly in love? Is that true? Well now I’m one of those people, intruding, judging, and questioning. But let’s be real—let’s be like nature. Nature doesn’t hide or drop off the face of the earth under the eyes and scrutiny of humanity. It continues to grow, to evolve, to gain more power and spiritual connection. The vines don’t shy away. The flowers in the cracks of the pavement don’t give up. They continue to be just as they are, growing from that intuitive, full-love, full-autonomy, different and separate, and yet completely connected with all nature, centered place. They grow and live and breathe and take up room without the need for outside permission or acceptance. To rely on that is weak. To bend and fall over by the slightest gust of man-made wind is to never know what you truly could become.

I’ve met many weak men. I’ve met even more weak women. These are not facts; they are experiences. We all come with our own. In general, like a calloused-winged eagle, I learned to soar alone, and now I’m learning to soar with another, equally calloused, but with different scars. We’re beautiful together. We’re also beautiful apart.

Now this is the shift, and I trust it because it’s natural. I’m noticing the people around us shifting too. They ebb and flow. Reality is changing, and I’m not afraid nor questioning it. I’m allowing, much like I’ve done with many areas of my healing, aware, and incredibly awake life. I’m allowing, but I’m also staying strong, as knowing myself always comes first, and knowing myself is turning out to be the key.

Why does love often fail?

Two half people don’t make a whole. A whole and a half don’t make a whole either. Half people will always be susceptible to whatever this human “reality” is. They will fly high when they are loved, and they will fall hard, break apart, and rot from the inside when love from the outside is no longer there. They will listen to judgments, they will get pulled and swayed, and they will never survive so long as they each remain half, or one or the other—one foot in, one foot out. One foot in the relationship, one foot out. When I dove in to love myself, I didn’t dive in half-assed. I dove in head-first, all-in, for better or worse, until death due me part. I gave myself fully to myself, and in return, I somehow left with everything. I somehow healed all my wounds, gained an everlasting power to heal anything, and tapped into the highest connection, the deepest and truest too.

Falling in love is not an emotion, as I’ve learned. Falling in love is much grander, much more full-spectrum and eternal. It is never-ending, and it is connected to everything that is important. It is wise and strong and sensitive and fluid. It is sporadic and changeable and fully accepting and earthly. It is the vast freedom of the sky and the comforting dirt beneath my toes. It is the essence I take with me everywhere and the power I share equally with another.