From the death of me, comes the birth of, i.


posted by Rachelle Webb

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one of the precious moments in which i could barely get to the keys fast enough to allow the words to willing spill from my inner landscapes,
the vast lands of my unconscious, creative, heart-fire imploring me for opportunity to unleash, to ignite, to set free whatever revelation, however slender,
in its finest degree of art.
in these moments, i have little control.. there is no filter, no process, just mass burning exodus of reason, dis-reason illogical firey creative flow, liberating my mind from the brink, dissolving the barriers which bind me to moments in which i miss,
from lack of being mindful or honoring to my soul,
happens more often than i might wish to admit- it's a cyclical process making my way back here,
to this moment traveling so long, so far,
through halls of memory, rekindling their emotive sentiency for a moment,
recalling just enough data to render the lesson relevant and rationalize it to a place in which its understood. it makes sense. its no longer a threat of becoming regret.

a full cycle comes to a close with the early hours of autumn,
12 months in which i left behind a trail-unblazed but for partial effort to commit.
often when we revisit those points upon our journey in which we seem to attach to unfortunate incident or suffersome circumstance
and wish that we had done things differently, even marginally, for the sake of a potentially better today.
but, would the ability to forsee the future, cause you to change your mind about the moment?
would it beckon you to rethink your logic for decisiveness and action?
dis-empower your bravery, then?
my senses say no, as i sail through the notions, allotting space for them to breathe, unwinding them from my chest-
cutting the last strings on the ancient blanket that has been wrapped around my injured parts, of both soul and incarnation, perceived-ly creating some manner of shield.
though not comfortable, not protective, not warming nor anything meant to soothe- after too long attached to the remnants of the past - it becomes wound wool wear, wrapped wanly around my wounds.
unbandage the limbs, and you shall find them healed- near instantly... oxygen has that miraculous effect... ability to weave vitality into all that it encounters.
breathe into the instant and see again, perhaps the clearest you ever have- that every reason, every justification, every willful, purposeful, meaningful, mindful choice you have ever made- has been brilliant. utterly enlightened- in hindsight, in foresight, in your heart's light, become sure.
sure that you have taught yourself honor, come closer to your truest truth...
unwittingly saved lives,
supersonically allowed for growth,
silently made amends,
furiously been reborn, through seeming protracted paths, that in reality were simply from here to there- yet sans-full understanding of the shortcuts.
the long way always paints a more colourful perspective, later looked upon.
indeed, lessons come harvest- bring redemption.
fertile seeds of suffering that have spawn a long-growth garden, a seasonal shifting, fundamental.
written in time, it has been seen.

here's a worthy ally

Demonic forces are self-destructive but very powerful. Divine forces are constructive but slow and efficient. When demonic forces create imbalance, all gods unite, becoming one divine force called Shakti or Durga.
The name "Durga" in Sanskrit means "invincible". The syllable "du" is synonymous with the 4 devils of poverty, sufferings, famine and evil habits. The "r" refers to diseases and the "ga" is the destroyer of sins, injustice, irreligion, cruelty and laziness.