a daylight dream

my favourite part of the day was usually the morning, right at dawn, watching the sunrise grow in colour. now, it is the hardest part of my day, which I tend to almost always sleep through trying to escape it. my mornings make me anxious. I feel the weight of bearing the responsibility to live my day right when I still have so much to learn about being a free human being. my gratitude practise worries me with how much of the blessings of my life I do not give conscious thanks to. my prayers remind me that I do not remember God much often and forget to breathe in remembrance. I am reminded, every morning, of all the mistakes I must make in order to get through and learn. I feel the loneliness settle at times, the solitude of struggle petrifying me. too many choices to make: do I have my coffee? do I pray first? do I go for a run? do I work? those choices leave me overthinking and I find myself in bed, exhausted by the freedom which is meant to heal me. however, the most beautiful thing ...

how incredulous it was. how free I felt that last era in my life. despite the walls that surrounded me, I felt deep liberation from having no choice but to surrender to the limitations and beautify them. at times, I would wake up from my slumber and realise how deeply limited I was, that I had very little choices and was surrounded by hurdles in every horizon I gazed at to feel relief. those times, I mostly prayed for freedom . I now have freedom. and how limiting it truly is to experience it. I am free now, I can do anything I please. I have a beautiful, supportive environment that would never discourage or insult me if I blunder or get myself into mishaps. it felt rather intoxicating at first to be so free and breathe all that air in the world all by myself without the barricades that surrounded me. however, with time, I felt the true weight of having to choose every single day.   what a burden it is to be truly free. now, I am learning how to be free, the right way. I have made ...

back then, perhaps a year ago, life was truly beautiful. it is as if a bird created a kingdom out of its glorified cage, having utmost faith that this was all there was in the world. the blackbird that I am, my dawn was my only reality, and my frolicking was a substance of doing the only thing I ever learned to do: service and self-betterment. here and now, there are much more requirements to this life such as becoming deserving of a different kind of happiness. a newfound joy in being served by this life and enjoying its pleasures. I find that selfish and unnecessary. I wish to leave this world unscathed by attachment and so I float in all gatherings around blessings so wary of touching any of it.   is it living off fear, now? fear of being attached? fear of pruning myself into the temporary and forgetting the truth of this life? I have become quite afraid of what distracts one from the truer world of being. I simply observe the joys of others but find myself wandering in cloudy A...

I come back to the solace of living my own life, whatever that means. the last days of summer and leaf-laden grounds, their crunch, their thirst for human, jovial steps. I run now, in search of meaning, in search for something divine, only to find it in stillness and peace. those days in Egypt when one had to hide in the shadows of home until sundown taught me how beautiful stillness is. the boredom of it, even. I used to think that having so much to do during the day was an ideal to live for, but it turns that the more I have to do, the more I feel dissatisfied. the more silence there is between moments, curled up on my bed, listening to the sound of aliveness in me, that’s who I am and what a sweet feeling it is to be found. it is not my role here on this earth to be running around, making things happen. I’m meant to enjoy the beauty of time and the receivership of life each day this soul chooses to live. cocooning into the shell of the beauty I behold within me, I long for the peace...

it has been said to me before. it is all merely a decision.   the decision not to wait for an erasing mechanism, a liberating inspiration. it is deciding to forget the weight on my back, start light, tread with ease. doing little and moving along with confirmation that enough is what the universe is. an imperfect, yet extremely probable, chance of creation. I am deciding now that there is no turning back. nothing will ever be what it was like before. the healing lights of transformation are always there, manifesting themselves to beam through the sunlight. I am always there for them, shedding the layers that expect things to be a different way, seizing every opportunity of control. but the control now is fading away. this temporary phase of my life is quite uncertain and one does not really know where to go, but a single dream of being genuinely of service, to be within people’s hearts and remember God is what I earnestly know is true of me. gifts . giving gifts to the world and al...

though I dreamed of love far too many times, it seems I am incapable of love. now that the only prerequisite is love, it is the only thing I cannot do. I simply fall into aloneness, seeking recluse in the emptiness that is me, trying to find a spark of love that could ignite an untameable fire so that I don’t have to be in control anymore, and just let the fire burn the hearts I’m near so fiercely that they think it’s me. I cannot do this. it’s too difficult to give something you’ve never learned to be given: a smile, a gaze, time, togetherness. I have failed all the chances I’m being given now. it is of no use. I’m simply unlovable. I thought I had an open heart, but there are impenetrable walls all around me, and I’ve been surrounded by them far too long to even have the will to shatter them. I am telling myself to surrender and lose control. if it is a path I cannot find, then perhaps it is not mine to find this moment. let me circumvent the life that is mine right now, no matter ho...

  I have not yet become bored of my own friendship, a solstice of one’s communion. in this freedom, it is quite estranging. i feel like someone else entirely. i am a foreigner in my own landscape and it is taking me so long to get to know who it is that lives inside of me. with all my motivations altered, inspiration is not exactly easy to find. it is not held in a sun’s rays and a passing cloud. it is beheld in intimacy and courteous conversations with one’s soul. still, I disappear and I cannot find who I’ve been. they say find your inner child. find your spark. find that melodious charm in you. but it is inexistent. it has somewhat withered away somewhere. an exile. I have for so long built a life on the ashes, and it made me so happy. those few joyful moments every now and then were everything I needed to stay alive and at peace. little moments before sleep, spending time with God and dreaming of love. I am afraid I built a life upon fantasies and a longing for little moments s...