Something inside of me desires to write, so here I am, making it happen. Whether inside or out, the drive pushes me to type letters into words onto the page. I cannot deny the truth of my passion for words. The more I begin to see the beauty they point to, the more I want to write them down. I imagine I will do this to find myself, and to express myself. Don’t we often do that at the same time anyway?
I cannot suppress the questions or deep longings for truth I have. They sit in the presence. Waiting. Expected to be picked up and written down. Why not me? Why not now? Maybe I’ve managed not to do this because of outside influence (of which I’m becoming much less attuned). I must listen to my true self. My inner most being is the being that is most authentic and me, after all. This is the me I have to depend on, fall back into, for who else can I depend on? I’ve found such peace and equanimity in being with myself. Solitude. Reading. Writing. Contemplating. Longing. Meditating. There is something so powerful in sitting with yourself long enough to enjoy yourself. Truly. And first must come the power to truly love yourself. Because if we are love, we must tread through the many layers we’ve picked up along the way that veil our understanding of what and who we truly are. I feel as if I am beginning to scratch the surface of this recognition. I desire authenticity and love. I want peace and freedom. And it’s because I’ve tasted it and I’ve seen that I know it is in my reach. Even beyond or before that, it is what you and I are made of. This is incredibly exciting. It’s mysterious. It’s beautiful. It keeps me up at night and it allows me to be present wherever I find myself. Words mustn’t always be straightforward and practical, must they? Shouldn’t words, even in their drawn out form, stoke some sort of emotional response or deep fundamental connection in us? I trust the words that have been the most profound and deepest signposts for me have been things that have shaken me so much to my core that I had no choice but to be brought to my deepest, truest self in response to them. I am mystical. I am traditional. I am progressive. I am curious. I am unchanging and always growing. I am inhibited. I am love and I am fear. I am here for it all. Paradox and power. The power comes in the expression of the One. If any "other" can connect or relate to it—there lies the beauty alone. There lies the purpose and impact. I write for me. I write for you. I write for discovery. I write for us. Won’t you join me?
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I am beloved.
Nothing I have done or will do earns me this. For God is loving me into this present moment. All that I am and All that I taste is of God. Beautiful. Disasterous. Dangerous. Holy. I am beloved. |
Jacob CullumI write things and sometimes they end up here. ArchivesCategories |