War..

There are no winners in war; the “winners” suffer the same trauma as the supposed losers. The horror, the pain, the death, the sickness, the disconnection, the separation.. It’s the same. It is impossible to hurt someone from a place of connection, it just cannot be done. Soldiers are taught to disconnect. Their spirits are broken, same as we break the spirit of horses to gain control of them. With no spirit left embodied, there is nothing left to care. This is the only way people can kill, or rape, or main, or hurt. To lesser or greater degrees they are not there. Their bodies are, but their soul is not.. It is somewhere away from themselves.
We all live like this to a degree; vast quantities of our energy and awareness unknowingly distanced from us, too scared or hurt to be in full unison with our physical form. Life does this to us, and these days – and in days gone by – society has forced this upon us. Separation has been the only way to survive, to get through the days, to be seemingly unhurt and unaffected by the suffering of these human lives we live. Except we miss the point that disconnection is not what we are here for.. We are here to connect.
In a way, we all suffer the gut wrenching pains of disconnection from Source, from Love purely by being embodied, purely by being in matter. 99.999999999999% of the Universe is Space, is limitless and unconditional love, is the void, is pure God. 0.000000000000% of the Universe is matter. We are in an incredibly small minority. We are separated, purely because we have form. However, form is what allows us to touch, taste, feel, experience.. We ARE the Universe experiencing itself. We are the Universe learning more. We are love.
For love to be known it has to be felt, given and received. There is a giver, a receiver and the love itself, the gift. The rule of three. If love was left in it’s pure form as 100% of All Things, it would never be known. And love desperately wanted to be known. And so it sacrificed itself. That initial break; the initial separation at the beginning of the time of Things. It ripped itself apart. It gave birth to itself. And it hurt like heaven.
Creation almost always requires some form of breaking. When we create art, we break beauty into colour and form, and we try to capture it somehow through these broken and separate aspects. We try to put them together in a meaningful way to help heal the void we feel within ourselves. What happens when we remember the void is where all the Love that is yet to find form is? Where an unlimited and limitless supply of energy – of love – is held? Not in the matter, but in the spaces between. We got caught up focusing on the matter, but the matter was not what mattered. What mattered was everything else. The most abundant thing in this Universe, in our bodies, even on the M25 in a traffic jam, is space. Look beyond the car, look between the cars, look up, look left, look right. Look around you right now. Space. There is so, so, so, so much space. It has been scientifically proven that if you took all the space out of our bodies, what was left of a 6ft man would fit on a pin head. If you blew atoms up to the size of oranges, the space they hold would amount to football pitches.. There is a lot of space.
Maybe the sense of separation we all feel in the quiet times is the pain of that initial break.. The pain of when love gave of itself to become known. When love was willing to break in order to create, to know, to feel. And how glorious it is to feel. The wind on your face, the touch of a lover, a smile that reaches all the way through your body right to the tips of your toes, the bass beats of music resounding in your rib cage, the exquisite pain of losing a loved one knowing for it to hurt this much you must have dared greatly and loved wholly, the ecstasy of finding that someone who loves you, and who you love… The gift of being able to feel is a deep and profound thing. Joy, pain, loss, gain.. It is all just nuances of the same thing. Nuances of God, nuances of Love. It is ALL Love. For there is nothing else.
I do my best to remember this when I am left desolate and full of anger and sorrow. I try to remember this when I am struggling to reconcile the thoughts in my head with the feelings and sensations in my body, and confusion and isolation feel like the best places to reside. I try to remember this when I am saddened by the behaviour of others and of myself, and by the mass disconnection in this world. I try to remember that I am blessed because I Know. I Know the truth. It is not something that can be captured in even the most elaborate web of words, but I Know it. Love IS. And because of that, I am free.
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