We make our debut in this body on this blue planet, bare, blank, brilliant, and more often than not, bawling … because someone has smacked our butt! Does that still happen?! I’ve only been in a delivery room - for babies, that is (multiple times for giving birth to projects) - once … and I was the one being smacked!
We arrive and know nothing about where we’ve been and nothing about where we’ve come to and nothing about where we’re going to.
We are a pure blank canvas. A manifesting and allowing super-structure!
And then, before we have a chance to catch a breath, people start painting all over us, their idea of what we must know and how we should live our life, and they never stop until we leave this planet … unless!
They paint resistance all over us unless we stop it and give ourselves space to breathe.
There’s always someone determined to make an impression on us, so I call them the Impressionists!
We are taught about who we are. Defined this way and that, by culture, race, tradition, all from way back when. Way way way back into the past.
But who knows the truth? Who knows most about who we really are?
If the answers are all around, what are the best questions?
Leave a Reply