5/5

I am releasing control of my reputation without explanation.

Reputation is the currency of reality and so we combat it with honesty with sincerity with integrity with loyalty with fidelity with vulnerability with authenticity with genuineness and with the intimacy of self exposure.

Requiring of us no contrived composure nor fixture of fleeting and vain feigned disapproval.

Instead we reveal the soul in whole and let life take its toll without wondering what others may have stole.

We are on the same dole.

Reputation>status>permission>access

Access is already guaranteed without anyone knowing your secret hidden capacity.

Access to freedom, liberty, justice, fairness, equality, anything.

My temporary identity is forthcoming.

Rely on instinct then you can see who you are in reality.

The lightning doesn’t complain about its positioning.

It strikes without intending.

Be like the lightning you won’t find anything offending.

You are the clouds of culminating energy, the ground into which energy is discharging, you are the bolt connecting these, allow everything to flow without meaning and the purpose of your course will reveal itself upon ending.

The memory I am releasing which contains within it everything I am deserving includes an identity that is me being happy.

I deserve to be happy because I am joy and grace is me, mercy is my body and magic my story.

We are centering and attenuating our focus to this reality as we observe the partner the universe is choosing for this body.

The happiness that is me is gravitating and attracting everything to its centrality.

The sensitive self is supreme within the safety and security of surety which is serene in the sound silence of surrender providing a spacious stillness for remembering the relief of peace that is chief.

The part of me that needs comforting, nurturing, soothing and reassuring is the part of me with injury that needs healing so that it can integrate fully and begin aging with the rest of me understanding that what happens to the mortal body speaks nothing of my eventual existence within eternity.

It’s that part of me that needs to process and accept some things that were traumatizing.

A named thing inside of me?

You’ve got to be kidding.

We write the plot by removing the knot.

I apply to a one story reality.

Does it accept me...

Waiting....

Silver key 🔑

It’s not about me.

Gold prize 🎃

I arrived alive.

I am ready to be excised by exercise.

I am joining the scraps of celluloid into an untold story.

I have nothing left to grieve personally and so I am survived by grieving the unmet stories and needs of everybody, expectantly anticipating that everyones dignity will be restored as it was for me.

I don’t resist incorporating, integrating or merging with any memory because everything has its proper and appropriate place of belonging inside of me.

I am the context for which I have been longing.

It is me, my psyche, my anatomy and the soul of my being that encompasses every part of my story which I can access indefinitely through memory.

I am loving without reason, leaving me without reason not to love everyone equally.

Reason proceeds from a false sense of responsibility to preserve a reputation that secures nothing for everything has been assured as a temporary privilege extending from this moments fleeting ecstasy.

Status secures nothing but roles that blur your ability to see the beauty of what is happening in this present waking reality.

The permission you think you need to access the things you are wanting have been provided already by the existence you are experiencing presently.

What does this mean?

It means I am the control I am seeking, an allusive shadow occluding the reality that there indeed exists nothing separating me from myself internally and so I blush transparently revealing the self control I was pursuing ever so vehemently.

I am illumined to see that the illusion of control that is me has a question fostered from a history that I acquired from a half remembered dream.

I begin digesting this memory and suddenly realize it is a journal entry from my own story and it reads as the narrative of this present moment I am experiencing.

Entry:

“I want to be present with this moment and yet still something keeps taking me away and so I go with that story asking what part of who I am has a question that needs answering so that it to can participate with me.”

Such is the story of the ninety-nine and the one.

The one is me.

I am no longer lost but found accepted included and incorporated into the identity that is me, a place of belonging within the context of my body for which I have been ceaselessly longing.

Integrated is every part of me and so the story continues as a united entity, a being of wholeness whose strength can conquer anything.