god missing himself

These days are energy, inspiration —-
No! energy —- period!

Here is an inner confidence in claiming that inspiration is a constant. It comes from all around, it comes in memories waiting to be re-unpacked, occasionally unpacked for the very first instance. It happens in any moment of passive, and wild, and deep observation of whatever flew by or became a timeless meditation.

Inspiration is ever present but energy seems not to be a given, for the notion that a body in motion wants to stay in motion, and the body resting wants to stay at rest, seems to be a similar continuum tendency for the non-physical.

These days I notice a strong sense of vibrancy. I attribute it to a deeper manifestation of love. Not in the subjectivity of individual beings but in the substance of love. A presence of security, of confidence that love needs not a vehicle but merely admission. That it depends not on want but on being.

These days are increasingly energizing, as if they were homeopathic potions of confidence, of resolution.

Some souls say to be creative out of pain. I seem to be more a vibrant creator in the presence of love. Then again, I do not fall in love but stand. Manifestations of creation here seem to be more focused, and equally more explosive, when love is a huge castle on a beautiful mountain with neighboring waters that flow, not for want but in being, unafraid of depth, unafraid of beauty and immateriality, so much so that god misses himself, again.

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