Tuesday, October 6, 2015

I like to write when I'm in strange moods;
When I'm very acutely aware of what it means to inhabit my own body, for instance-- preoccupied with neither past nor future, but rather unshakably present; mindful.
My thoughts and feelings are ripe at these times; ready to eat; I overflow. 
Joy, sorrow and ecstasy sit just beneath the surface; I could laugh or cry at any moment. 
Not because I'm PMSing/a woman, but because my perspective has zoomed wayyyy out. 
I see myself and my surroundings as minuscule and yet crucial pieces of a bigger whole: I look around my apartment and see not walls and furniture, but the purpose of those things within the grander scheme, of which I know very little but speculate very much, and very often. 
All cognitions are scattered in the most peaceful way... I drift from one to the next delicately, not missing the last or anticipating the subsequent. 

What languages do we all speak?
Music... art... food...

We are all human, and what extends further-- we are all infinite. Human or not, dead or alive, we each have an indestructible essence which will continue to exist even if we, in our mortal forms, do not. It is this very energy which should make us feel inextricably connected here on Earth. We should love the shit out of each other. We are all we have, and we will not always be around. 
Think of someone you dislike. 
Now think about if you had been born into their body, with their mind, lived life under their circumstances and shared their experiences.
You would be exactly like them. 
You would have done precisely the things that they have done. 
This is the basis of compassion: The ability to understand that we are all different and yet we are all the same. 
We must do everything we can to embody this concept; it is the only thing that will save us. 
I like this quote by O.G. of empathy, Mother Teresa-- 
"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."


Artwork by Cameron Gray

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