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Are you a Giver? Read this

This is for the givers, the doers free of charge, the lantern carriers when all are screaming “it’s too dark”. This is for the flame bearers, the fire breathers, and the fearless among the crowd.

Why am I writing about you? Well, because I like to think of myself as one of you, although some might digress, but that is a rant for another day.

So who are the givers?

They give time in the face of abandonment and unavailability, they give money in the face of greed and wealth hoarding, or love in the face of hateful speech and actions, or acceptance in the face of rejection. Are you a serial doer of any of the mentioned actions? Do you do so before you think about the real price of what you are giving? Do you live like this and worry about the returns later or never?

But what happens when you consider the returns today?

What do you do when your bag feels empty? Who gives you time? money? love? acceptance? Do you harbor a slight resentment for yourself or others, and all the seemingly “mindless” actions you have taken to bring yourself to this state of emptiness, of exhaustion of all of your resources? It might feel as though you are wasting your energy, when it seems as though the winners around you are takers. They succeed because they hold on to everything they can carry, and what they drop, well, they have people scurrying behind them picking up after them. Those people stay on top because of people like you, the givers. It is easy to think like this, to want to divert from living such life, because why the hell should you? as simple as that.

The story doesn’t end here you know. The story doesn’t end with you losing all that you have given to all the takers. The story ends where you decide it does, where you let it. See there is an unforeseen power that comes with the ability to give, because we live within a generation that is quite obsessed with having it all. We want the romantic relationship, a one true love story, but we also want the flings, the crazy crushes, the “Netflix and chill”. We want the bountiful success, we want to win but then who learns from winning alone, we have a special interest in the idea of failure and rising up again. We want the beautiful fit bodies, but we also really want to be “Foodies” who eat anything and everything for the sake of our taste buds and that review. We want everything, and really regardless of how contradictory our desires are, we seek it all.

The catch

So giver, where do you fit in this space? Who are you in this world, and what role do you plan on performing? Before you answer, consider 2 main givens:

You are extremely powerful if you are a giver.

You are extremely unaware of your power, if you keep on finding yourself empty, vacant and consumed.

Power is with those who have resources, and in this day and age, time, money, love, and acceptance are resources. People are creating empires out of those, think Gary Veynerchuck, Tony Robbins, Jason Silva, (and yes I realize there are no women in there -I will work on that ASAP, and your recommendations are welcome!) those are just a few people on my personal radar.

You must acknowledge the value of the resources you are offering, and when you do, you must direct them to the right places, projects and people, even and especially at yourself. Be efficient with your power, be smart and do not victimize yourself. Notice the darkness surrounding you, carry your torch high, straighten your back and walk to the forefront. You lead when you are a giver. You guide and empower, you make the first move.

You are the wild card, believe it, own it, and notice how when you take the reigns, the takers follow in your footsteps and not the other way around.

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Lotus 

I still am the same soul underneath it all, except with more years, more truths uncovered, some disappointments, some achievements and so many conscious breaths.

Days move and I move and life moves, days end and the night begins; just for me and my words. I peak through its curtains and I am summoned in. There is so much love for me here, inside. The dark is not scary, fear acknowledges me, and I nod, we have had our adversities, but behind these dark veils, there is only grace and fear only bows to that.

Inside this night I hold not just my own heart, but the hearts of loved ones, I hold their names and their spirits dance and swirl around mine. The motion is circular and the light is present within exploding like millions of fireworks.

The truth is mine, and I know, I am one with my being, this is the space I have been cultivating. This is the light I had been probing and this is the night I had been trying so hard to befriend and uncover.

Like a single lotus in the groundlessness of concrete I set my self aside and plug into the night. Consciously and carefully I find that ends meet, fear settles into faith and I unfold and dissolve letting life in.

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Mortality: The ceiling 

Like a little bodied statue I stare at the ceiling. One of many ceilings and walls I’ve faced and knocked down, this one refuses to move, it refuses to let me through. I let go and decide to just lay there, maybe now I see the big picture, maybe now I see the truth. Maybe this ceiling is keeping me from completely fading away and losing touch. 

I trace my thoughts back but I have none, I have gotten too good at quieting my mind, I have become stronger and less concerned with my body. The dread remains however. The unyielding and unrelenting need to belong somewhere to something to someone, and to feel infinite remains like the strongest emotion, the most powerful thought to ever exist. I cannot come to grips with mortality, not yet. 

I stare still and remain in my body, feeling an utmost safety in it, fearing the thought of ever losing it. Fearing the day that I let it go and crack the ceiling. Why is there no infinity right here and now? Why can we not have that? Is that the biggest ego of all? To want it forever? To have continuous return? Why is it excruciatingly painful and dreadful to be so close mortality and still refuse to see it?

Is this the highest feeling of love? Is it the newfound appreciation to every spirit surrounding yourself that gives you the courage to do this? Gives you a purpose and a light? How much have we forgotten to be able to be here today? How much are we blinded from that let’s us sleep at night and not crawl back to our mothers. 

I find my dark friend laying next to me, and together we look up at the ceiling. We hold eachother, I comfort him with my hope and with my light, while he confronts me with the truth: my mortality and everyone else’s, and our never ending pursuit of a single extra moment of being awake and breathing together. 

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Nothing Lost 

It remains a struggle to look outside of yourself and truly comprehend the wonder in this world. It remains an endless challenge to still believe at the end of the day, right before you close your eyes that you have been a force of good, a positive reinforcement to the powers at play.

I dwell in the sunlight as I write, it envelopes my body like a loving mother covers a cold child. The spots that have darkened with life, are cleared away by the grace of light.

I am still and bright, I am quiet as I gain my strength back. Nothing is ever lost inside this light. She watches from afar and greets my wanderlust soul, she watches from afar and smiles as I win this fight.

It requires practice and might, it requires a journey through the dark. It is sometimes easy and at times a plight. She grants me a lantern and a ring to my step; she teaches me a song and disappears from sight.

Nothing is ever lost within this light.

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Kingdom

It slips away when you aren’t looking, when you think it is never to be lost again. It seeps through your eyes and your pores. It drips out of your mouth as you speak, as you lie. Bit by bit, all that light begins to dim and you find your spirit sore and abandoned. It is spiritual beating it is beyond cognitive pain. It is excruciating to feel as though you have just almost found what you wanted and let it slip without really fully grabbing it. 

The journey begins again, but this time you know what you are looking for; you tasted it and felt it before. It all makes sense; you can never Un-know something you have become aware of. It is impossible to forget what you refuse to let go of. 

I dig, one mental black hole and into another. One simple thought becomes a lifetime belief and I refuse it. I look for that light beneath trenches of webbed and darkened thought. I stumble into realms of self hate all disguised as intelligence, all disguised as reality. Somehow there is a way out and I am not afraid. I am not afraid of this anymore, so i slow down…I slow down because there is nothing to be running away from it is all right where it should be. I am exactly where I should be. I recognize these walls, I spent years building them all, thought by thought, doubt over doubt. I recognize my demons and my still open wounds. One deep breath, two deep breaths and my beat is on repeat. All of this is my world, I am just on the opposite side of the fence. I like the other side much better and I refuse to let it get away from me. I walk. One step saves the next and i make my way. The confusion drills holes in my shoes, the path is difficult and elusive but I keep my pace I focus on my guide. One spec of light. It takes a single spec of light to grab a thread, which becomes a rope which becomes a bridge which becomes my kingdom of light. 

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A song for the Living 

She sings and her voice taps at my skin, informally casually, she raises her voice and the tap begins to hurt, it begins to burn. She says all the right words, makes the perfect sounds and yet nothing else is perfect. Nothing besides that tune makes any sense.

The power we posess screeches to a halt. It becomes a fault. The power remains mossy and filthy; it grows ugly and loud. It wrinkles at the edges and breaks into infected tears at the surface. That power grows heavy and damp, it drops and oozes harsh words and cold weather. I carry it all on my back like a tumor, like a dream that was supposed to be. I carry it around my shoulders and it drags its feet and swings like a nonchalant child. It kicks me in the gut whenever I remember what I had done, what I could have been. The power loses its original form and its agility. It loses its faith and it becomes despair.

I carry it because it cannot move. I carry it as it weighs me down, I crawl as it drags its toes beside me upon the ground. It grabs my hair and pulls it away from my face, because I still am pretty despite it all. And pretty shields us from the eyes and the bigger picture.

I carry the power be it of any kind, I bear it all and I transport it, giving away whatever is necessary of it.

She still sings and she takes me away from where I stand. She lowers her voice and recognizes me. Pretty face in the light, a tired massive hub of demented power in the dark. She sees me through dimming lights and darker shadows. I suddenly feel lighter and my power regenerates into a magnificent beauty; i ooze words that sound magical together; I muster all the power within me and a day comes to its end. I caress the carcass I have left behind and I listen to her bringing me back home and reducing me back to life.

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A Little Living

Strength has always been a quality i somewhat considered fleeting. People who appeared to be strong, suddenly collapsed and people who you would assume to be weak had an unbelievable consistency and resiliency towards life’s twists and turns.

It seems to me that through out my numerous rampages for insight across borders, humans and emotions, I misunderstood strength. I saw one side of it and failed to see through the other. Strength; it turns out, is not apparent and is not stamped on people’s foreheads. Strength cannot be determined by the amount of tears a person sheds upon experiencing an emotion, and it cannot be perceived simply by observation. Strength, to my amazement was a quality so deeply ingrained in the heart of hearts of any person who needed it. Strength is innate; it is weakness that we are taught. Weakness is the choice after all, and not strength.

How did i reach this conclusion you may ask? Give a little girl a notebook, some books, a lot of time, some exposure to new and dangerous territory, sprinkle her space with a few traps, and hand her a little light; give her a few shoves and let her make her own way. She will discover strength and she will meet weakness. Conclusions are much better concluded than reached.

I dare say, we have unbelievable resources of power available to our reach yet we are untrained, we lack the technological expertise and the human capital to tap into it. We are developing countries in a world of superpowers- we are left to our own devices trying to make sense of a world so unlike expectations. We are scared and we are unsure, we fail miserably and we shy away from our lessons. We learn to be weak so early on in our lives -unless advised otherwise- until strength becomes a quality to be admired.

I have heard before that courage is contagious, and strength is admirable because not many can attain both. I believe however so profoundly, that life is not scary and it is merely one challenge after the other. I believe that we must live anyway we see fit, because it is only this moment, and this hour and this day, and this year; only this lifetime you get to live.

So let go, its only now