posted on Feb, 7 2008 @ 10:03 PM
The event I described above also comes on the heels of some prose that came to me during an unsolicited moment a short while back. If you care to read
it, it sounds better if you play some chopin in the background. It is as follows:The Essence
"As I stepped out into the quaint, crisp morning, the spirit of the moment raptured my senses. I closed my eyes. A faint smile overtook my lips
I inhaled deeply the spirit of a delicious autumn day. The wind bore the weakening scent of receding foilage mingled with the aromatic fragrance of
distant smoke-billowing chimney. My ears hearkened to a most melodious chorus of departing robins and finches; a lone mockingbird their passionate
Still smiling, I opened my eyes. My visual senses were beckoned by a managerie of color. The fading greens, the lustrous yellows, the
vibrant crimsons; a confluence of color, a dessert to my now tantalized senses. My whole anatomy resonated as one with the life forces surrounding me.
At that moment, my spirit reached back into a time long past. My mind stirred with the ancient memory that, though suppressed by the mundane
of life, lies deep within each of our beings. The memory of the ages. I was truly made of earth and this day I remember. I beheld in that landscape
reflection of the essence of my being; of who we really are. I was a part of the crisp wind, the aromatic foilage, the petal, the earthworm, the resin
laden wood responsible for the sweet smelling wind. Fractions of them were fragments of me. I was humanity; formed from, and truly at one with the
but endowed with oh so much more. I breathe in and I am a chief architect of enigmas who forges deep considerations; a master sculptor of charity
toward my fellow man; a composer of love, a choreographer of kindness with keen senses toward healing. A moment passes. I exhale. In that instant,
I am an addict, a liar, a contriver of division. I am the universal yin and yang. I am the potential for anything that ever was, has been, or will
I am a hypocrite, an actor living the script of my thoughts. I am made in the image of what the most eloquent proverbs fail to describe, yet I breed
death. I am a destroying brute beast yet bristle with potential to emanate true light. In consideration of the paradox that is my being, I make a
choice. I labor to change who I am and break free of the shackles of darkness preventing my ascension to that place men of great honor were
to write. But who am I to say? Who are we to think? We are all duality manifested in the singular. We are the demigod, the serpent, the savior and
the traitor. Principally, we are what we say we are in our quiet whispers to ourselves but would never dare acknowledge to another.
The rationalization that we are merely cosmic accidents
tarnishes our minds, dulls are souls, and hinders our very being. That notion juxtaposes harshly against the common understanding that an elaborate
symphony MUST have both a composer and a purpose. Life is the song played through the instruments of birds, breezes, and seas. The cause of the
composer's masterpiece is to be heard. You and I? We comprise the priveleged, exclusive audience by invitation only. We're all invited to arrive
different times throughout the symphony by intent of the composer. We're here on purpose. The earth peoples in the same way that a cloud makes
By design we arrive at the a precise time to hear the notes written especially for us,
but we can't anticipate when the song will end, if it will be followed by another piece, or if we'll be asked to leave after we've heard the
meant for us to hear in order to grow our spirits. You and I and those who have gone before us, we are the reason for this elaborate symphony.
The music plays on. We laugh, we're moved to tears, we're mesmerized, and we wonder. To cease daydreaming about life's
vanities and recognizing our status, we become a gracious member of the audience. Never forget that you are the succint essence of the composer's
Now be still and be silent taking care to hang on every note composed and conducted especially for you. Life is no mystery, it is a personal
gift endowed to you by a Master Artist. Me, We, all are individual expressions of a great something that most see as nothing.