PTSD and me


I used to be plagued by the standard symptoms of PTSD for years.  Despite knowing what was going on with me–my background as treatment provider made it impossible to not know–I didn’t begin any kind of treatment until my early 30s.  I went to therapist after therapist looking for someone who would ‘fit’ me, ‘get’ me.   There was the therapist that used our sessions for her own therapy, the one who never looked at me, the one who couldn’t understand me, and on and on.  I finally gave medications–several of them–a try when stress as a probation officer, lack of sleep fueled the desire to pull the trigger of my P 226 and finally be done with it.

The meds made me fat while giving me the shits, created mental & emotional side effects worse than the ones that led me to them, and led me to taste metal again.

I finally walked away from the whole therapeutic system after yet another therapist, while looking at me, said, “I can’t decide if you are PTSD or Complex PTSD.”  She was identifying me as my illness and it really pissed me off.  So, I weaned myself off my meds and threw myself into my work.   For whatever reason (there were several including ultimately leaving the 80 hr a week job), all of my symptoms disappeared and I moved through it all with something resembling grace.

I get it–the way of living (if you can call it that) with such a debilitating illness, the frustrations found in standard treatment, the effects on others around us and the desire to die.

I can help.  I want to help.  The work I do works.  It doesn’t require belief, faith or trust.  It just requires you being willing to work with me.  For free.  You’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Symptoms just vanish.  Entirely and life goes on.  Life becomes about REALLY living.  With joy, with peace, with sleep, with healthy relationships, appropriate responses to drama and trauma.  With ease and grace.

Just get to me.

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What if it really is “In Between the Stories”?

Inspired by Rumi, blog posts about hate, love and god; and 24 hours steeped in connection with all that is.

In Between Stories ~ Rumi 

Did you hear that?

It’s the man who was looking for treasure.

He wants me to finish his story.

You didn’t hear him?

Then, he must be inside me yelling, “Over Here! Come over here!”

Don’t think of him as a seeker, though.

Whatever he’s looking for, he is that himself.

How can a lover be anything other than the beloved?

Every second he’s bowing to the mirror.

If he could see for just a second one molecule

of what’s there without fantasizing about it,

he’d explode.

His imagination, and he himself,

Would vanish, with all his knowledge, obliterated

into a new birth, a perfectly clear view,

A voice that says, “I am God.”

That same voice that told angels to bow to Adam,

because they were identical to him.

It’s the voice that first said,

There is no reality but God.

There is only God. 

We humans have all sorts of habits.  Some we change.  We quit smoking.  Eat healthier, walk a little more, buy orange Christmas lights rather than white.  Our taste in music changes, our groups of friends wax and wane.  There are some things, though, we tend to hold on to for dear life.  As if they are our life.  Think about the current state of religious & political affairs to catch my drift.

There is another idea, a habit that many cling to that I want to ask about here.  Similar habits framed in a slightly different fashion, methinks. We seem to cling to the notion that there is something outside us that guides, chides, tests, taunts, aids, destroys, makes and takes.  We seem comfortable at some level, too, with using words like co-creator; phrases like Divinely-inspired. We’ll accept messages from aliens, atlanteans, metatron and michael but seem hard-pressed to consider that we are creator, we are inspired, we are our own messengers.

And, so I ask the following:

What if there is no other great orchestrator or observer?  What if there is no oversoul, higher guardian, a higher level of Godliness, an ascension to something, somewhere else? No intergalactic collective of whatever that we need to ask permission of?  Nothing or no one outside of us?

What if there is no one thing greater than each individual one of us?

What if we really hold onto the ideas and likenesses Christ, Mohammed, Abraham,  and other prophets because they chose to act as if they were God and we think we can’t or shouldn’t?

What if we really have all that power and grace?  What if we are that power and grace?

What if

We.  Are. God. ?

What if you are not an embodiment of something outside yourself?  What if you are not made in the image of something greater than you?

What if you knew you needn’t be saved or rescued?  What if you are that greatness you’ve imagined outside yourself?

What if, to know yourself & see yourself as god only took one breath? One thought? One experience?  Would you breathe and see?

Would you be able to look in the mirror and know? Would you be willing to know?

You. Are. God?

What if you saw in the mirror not just your face but all the grace, glory, peace, kindness, mercy, ferocity, love, compassion, strength, courage, and wisdom within you and all those you touch? And, those you will never know?

What if that one small thought led you to know every. single. living. thing as god as well?  Same as you but different?

Would you see your neighbor, lover, child;  prisoner, pensioner, plumber, trash collector, welfare recipient, jihadi, dog catcher and fighter as god?  Could you do that?  Could you hold them in the same regard as you do your heroes and other holy ones?  Excited for their life’s opportunities—the same as your own?

Would you do that?  Would you be willing to take that great leap in your own life to know yourself?

As. God.

Are you afraid of the greatness?  Of the responsibility for yourself? Others?  Are we afraid of that?  Are we afraid that it’s really not unknown to us?  That there is no real mystery or magic to it? That it’s really that simple?

What if we didn’t have to wait for anything?  What if each of us were already worthy and ready? Just as we are…

God.

What if it took nothing else but to just Know?

What if we really are the bees knees, all that and a bag of chips?  What if we are just singularly pretty freakin’ awesome human beings?  What if we all knew that and lived as such, recognizing that divinity in each other and every single thing?

A Taste of my own Medicine, Self-Worth & Pissin’ People Off

Every now and again, I feel the need to get a taste of my own medicine.  When I do that, I click around and find out when and where Panache Desai is going to be.  This time it was Black Mountain, North Carolina.  What’s little road trip?  Only seven hours between here and there, right?  Yup.  Something like that.  Seven hours to drive for an energetic ass-kicking.

Let me divert a bit with a little back-story. I first saw Panache about a year ago.  He ‘accidentally’ showed up on my computer screen.  Riiiiight.  You know how I feel about ‘accidents’, right?  I knew in less than an instant that I needed him like I needed air.  I drove like a bat out of hell for 14 hours to St. Petersburg, FL, to the Unity Church there to see him.  I sat. Looked around at the eclectic crowd and tried not to fidget (remember how I have to practice patience?).  When he began speaking I almost fell over.  He was using the same language, the exact same words I did while working, the language that others thought I channeled.  I was brilliantly relieved and tickled that I wasn’t alone.  Then, he started doing his thing.  He wandered around the room touching folks and when he finally got to me, I was just ‘struck’.  That’s the only way I know how to describe it except to add that in one moment, in less than a second, I just ‘knew’.  I knew everything.  I knew that what I’d begun doing a few months beforehand had little to do with healing torn rotator cuffs and a lot with changing the world.  All in a flash of light (although that doesn’t quite describe it) and presence that moved in and through me in a split second.  And, then, it was all I could do to not interrupt the still, meditative manner that others had settled into without laughing hysterically!  Guffawing, snarfing, snorting…the whole shebang.

The mystical experiences clients had been describing to me finally made sense.  Those may have made sense but the “holy shit” factor remained at the forefront of my brain all night.  The 14 hour drive back to Virginia was filled with self-conversation that went something like this: “Oh. Shit.”  “Holy CRAP!”  “HOLY crap!” “Whatthehellisthatallabout!”  “Crappity, crap, crap, crap!!”  “Damn, there’s responsibility here!” “Now what the fuck do I do with that bit of information?”   Enough that the chatter sent me straight to the computer before the bathroom (after 14 hrs on the road, no less) to send an email that said, essentially, “Holy crap.  Now what the hell do I do?”  The response, bless him, was, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Moving back on track to this summer’s trip.  Only 7 hours, not 14. And I knew what I was getting into.  Didn’t feel the ‘need’ but wanted to feel what others feel through me.  A reminder, really, of what we’re about. As far as I know, he and I are the only ones that work in this strange and usual fashion (odds are, though, that if there are two of us, there are bound to be more around the globe).  What’s a state line or two between us, I thought?  So I went.

Hauled ass (safely, of course!) through the heart of Virginia into some of North Carolina’s finest spaces.  The two-hour session on Friday evening was nice.  I was tired and it was a great way to end a day of travel.  Just a nice energetic high of the warm, fuzzy kind.   On Saturday, though, initially it wasn’t.  I found myself annoyed.  Annoyed that I was listening to myself. Really annoyed.  Remember, we really do speak the same language–damn near word for word.  It was only toward the end of the day that the smack upside the head occurred.  The universal, “Yeah.  You.  You big dummy.  You ought to listen to yourself!”

A week or so before I made the run to NC, I met with a really awesome woman from Northern Virginia.  During the course of our time together I looked at her and said, “Quit being a pussy.”  (Yes, I really did. I don’t have to make any of this up, kids. These aren’t therapy sessions.  And, seriously, wouldn’t you love to hear your therapist say that?).  After listening to what Panache had to say toward the end of Saturday, I realized I’d been speaking to myself as well. I’d been settling for being a pussy.  Preaching on one hand while my other hand chose to hold me back.   Although in some respects I have behaved fearlessly, in one key aspect I had chosen not to.

Because I am ridiculously  human, I’d held onto a couple of key beliefs about myself that others had sold me on.  The primary of those (the one addressed now) was that I didn’t have value. Grounded in years of ‘stuff’, I’d held onto that notion.  And, subsequently, have lived recently as if I was of no value, as if my needs and desires, and, yes, my Gift, had no value.  I’d dealt with it at one relational level but not at another.  Silly girl.  Don’t know what I was thinking.  Actually, that’s not quite true.  What I was thinking was, “Oh.  I can’t do that. They won’t like me/come to me/value me/want me (think Sally Field) if I do …”.  In this case, ‘it’ was if I charge for my services what I need to have my own needs met.  As if it were perfectly okay for me to provide what I do for others and martyr myself in the process.

It is no longer okay for me to suffer.  It’s no longer okay for me to choose between putting gas in the car and going to the dentist. It’s no longer okay for me to be afraid of what others think of my need to take care of myself.  It is not okay for me to be afraid of every noise my car makes.  It is perfectly okay for me to want underwear that fits.  So, I’ve raised my rates.  I’ve raised them to help support both me and those who can’t afford me at any rate.  I do a lot of work for no fee at all and when I do, it’s done with love.  I choose to do that for those in need who have limited or no income because I fully believe what I call the Gift is of all of us and for all of us.   I have previously set myself up and created limitations that needn’t exist because I was afraid.  No mas.   I have desires to work with veterans groups, pay for advertising, develop a retreat center, and live on my own again.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.

There are those who will say, “Oh, there she goes. Just like all these other healer-types.  All about the money.”  Others have already come right out and said, “You can’t do that!  You can’t charge so much for something that people don’t understand!” “You can’t expect people to pay you for miracles.”   You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.  And, we all know how I feel about that.  So be it. That’s their problem, not mine.  It is up to others to decide what the value of the Gift is for them and to find the courage to say things like, “I really can’t afford more than the $60 I used pay you.”   Those who don’t pay me do that every day and, then, pay with loving kindness, chocolate cake, garden goodies, and the willingness to be open to themselves & others.

A good part of what I teach is grounded in deciding (see above). Deciding how we want to feel.  How we want to experience life.  I’ve finally decided that I want to live freely, without self-imposed limitations.  I’ve got plans and am creating a way to make them happen. I am worthy.

Spiritual Naivety?

There are those who think of me as ‘merely’ naive when it comes to things of spirit.  Here, I ask they consider their own limitation of expression that appears bound by others’ ideas & ideals. The string of logic posed by quite a few is that I’ve not studied spiritualism, metaphysics, any aspect of any religion, and not living/speaking/healing/BE-ing within the bounds of someone else’s playbook.   I’ve not sought out sages or saddhus, not read from mystics and mages, not worshiped at or made an altar,  I’ve not done enough things or read enough of stuff  to know of what I speak and certainly not enough to know Truth–neither my own nor that that is Universal.

So what if I get my inspiration from Dean Koontz as much as I do Rumi?  So what that I don’t have Lama so-and-sos books as reference guides?  So what that I picked up all those books you have on your shelves, read a few pages or chapters and said, “Nope. That’s not it.” So what that I can say I don’t know?  I don’t care to know.  I have no need or desire to understand.   I don’t need to read someone else version of how my life should/might/could be.   So what that I can say I Know more than has ever been forgotten of that for which there are no words to be written in a book?  So what that I don’t assign any more significance to a crystal than I do the chair that supports my ass, the friends that feed my hunger, or the wind that tousles my hair?

So what that I don’t give a crap about past lives, Akashic records, 2012, 11/11/11 or future-&-fortune telling?  So what that I’m not afraid of and cannot explain how or why I go formless; how or why I can feel more heartbeats than my own; how or why my vibrations intensify sometimes so that furniture and the air move around me? I just not afraid and just don’t care.

Why does it bother anyone that I can say with certainty that I am enlightened?  Why? Why does it bother you so that I don’t couch any of this in terms of ‘spiritual’ but consider it merely living.  Not a separate part of me or anyone/thing in the Universe?

With some frequency, I say to as many people as I can, “Forget what you think you know.”  That bugs a lot of folks.  Annoys, confuses, angers and frightens.  There is always one or a few someones who believe they know everything. Can recite left, right, upside down and backwards biblical & kabbahlistic texts, A Course in Miracles, Eckhart Tolle’s latest; carry around with them photos of their gurus, pocket angel cards, and other accoutrement; wear their crystals and white; repeat “peace and light”, and still live in a state of unawareness.  Unaware, unopen to change or other avenues of experience and expression.

Generally speaking, when I ask folks to forget what they think they know, I’m not trying to challenge the ideas they hold (although, sometimes, for grins & giggles that is my entire point).  We connect to and engage with those things that resonate with us, interest us and excite us.  I get that. I want, though, to push people past their limitations.  I want to push people past the ideas & attitudes of others that they hold so dear, onto so tightly that they cannot see their own.  There are a lot of people saying the same thing and slightly different versions of the same thing for a reason. I don’t know what it is and don’t care to.  What I do know and care about is people remaining comfortable and complacent in the ‘same thing’ in the same manner we, as humans, have done over the course of our existence.  The ‘same thing’ that leads to dogma, doctrination, discrimination of the negative sort without the discrimination of the discerning sort.

I have the unique ability to see in ways others cannot. Or, more pointedly, in ways others choose not to.  I can see through the veils, the stories, the fears, the mirrors, the cloaks, the stuff-n-stuff that holds people back from their potential. I see the essence.  It has nothing to do with form, fashion, or finessing of words. When I can see it clearly and they cannot fathom because of those limitations, I, quite frankly, get annoyed.  Because of this stuff is so ridiculously simple. Because if you can’t actually practice it, why do you preach it, and hold onto it–that thing–so hard that ?

Let go. Open yourself up. Entirely.  It’s not enough to say, “I’ve got an open heart” when the rest of you is shut down and shut out of the simplicity of the mystery of the Universe.  You don’t need to ‘figure it out’.  There is nothing that needs fixing. Nothing that needs to be rescued or saved.  Sure, tools are good.  As are crutches.  However, when you allow your tool to become the crutch for too long, you forget how to walk on your own!

Breathe. Be. Know.  Know thyself and be true.  And live fully, openly.

Inspired by Fucking-Sharing a Twitter experience of Being Ing (Get it? Be-Ing?)

Unknot the knickers, unpinch the panties; it’s not in the nikked sense of the word, it’s in the George Carlin sense. Not exactly rated-G but not porn.

So, I had an inspirational experience this morning on Twitter.  Because it’s one way I communicate w/ the world and because I believe in putting all of me out there in every way, I posted, “I’m fucking frustrated!”.  Oh. My. Yup, I said it. Folks seemed a little taken aback that a “spiritual” (whatever that really means) someone , one who posts about love, light, tranquility, peace, God, being God, knowing all things Godly dropped an F-bomb.  Oh. My.

One of the things I continue to find so amazing about this mysterious life that is Me is people’s response to all things Me.  I make an effort to explain that I’m not going to fit into any box that you’ve created as a way to make me ‘fit’ into the world-order as you see it.  Combine that with what seems to be an entirely different standard of living related to ‘being spiritual’–makes me wanna pull a Bill-the-cat and  ACK! As if, because we’re different, special, on a higher level/plane/playing field, we don’t do things like live ‘normally’.

Here’s the deal: I am freakin’ special and, get this, absolutely, brilliantly, fuckedupedly, fandamtabulously, ordinary.  I put on my pants and drop them the same way you do, my shit stinks, I curse, love, like brilliant sex, burn toast, shrink laundry, change the world, curse, shoot guns (Oh, for Pete’s Sake–really?! Again, unknot & unpinch), don’t like some people; drink red wine, beer, bourbon; overeat, under-sleep, befriend, unfriend, enjoy cigars, wash dishes, smoosh stinkbugs, rescue bees & turtles; all the while bringing the light of God, the Love of the Universe to every, single being I can connect with.

I may move through, see, and experience the world in a very unique way but I am a human being (Really. Not a ‘spiritual’ being having a human experience. I’m human!) and I live fully.  I am complex, beautiful, annoying, course & crass, unafraid, hungry for more than I need, more than I ever could want, more than I could ever imagine so that I can do the Work I’m brought here to do without limitation (back to why I’m frustrated!).

I love my Ruger (P95 for those that want to know),the smell of the gun range & cow manure, Neil Diamond, & strong coffee. I miss my dog, hate panty hose & shaving my legs, know that I am loved and Blessed by the seen and unseen, and breathe for all that live.    I am grateful beyond words that I  allowed to live the way I do because there are a few amazing people in my life who love me for being me, truly do believe I have a special Gift and need to share it with the world.  And, again, I am no more extra-ordinary than you, the grass, Christ hisself, the people that I don’t like, the Chopras and Oprah’s of the world (and, oddly, enough, despite the power they’re given, they ain’t all that extra-anything either!).  That’s the whole point, really, people.  To recognize that we are all unique and of the same.

I express my passions, emotions and connection to all that exists by moving energy in a way that is tangible & palpable. Sometimes that includes saying: Fuuuuuuck, Holy Shit, Hot Damn & Hallelujah, HolyMaryMotherofGod, Shitfire, Batman in Hotpants (really, I don’t know how or why I conjured that one!), Holy Christ, Great Day, crappity crap, OOhhhhhh Hell, WOOOOHOOOOOO, Quitcherbellyachin’, SHUT it, and a variety of other words that act as exclamation points better than anything on a keyboard.  My use of & the meaning behind the it is defined solely by ME.  I don’t apologize for it.

Especially when I say: “I love you.” Without condition, without expectation, in its purest, simplest form.  I love you.

I love George Carlin, too!

Finding my voice

Simplicity seems to baffles many folks. Because we want to understaaand stuff.  The hows of stuff.  The whys of stuff.  How does it fit with what I think I already know?  Which box of life-data do I put this information in so that it makes sense to me?

This concept has become stronger over the course of the past few weeks as I moved through a strain of viral yuck.  As I recovered, I moved from literally losing my voice (sounding far too much like a toad for my liking) to figuratively finding it.  I learned that I’ve been speaking not to stand out and be heard, but to merely fit in–a habit that I’ve spent a lifetime repeating, apparently.  Talk about a “D’OH!” moment.

This realization came to me when I was reading a Washington Post Magazine article while waiting for a plane to take me to Denver.  The realization pushed me further when I was asked by a new friend in Denver how to explain to others what I do so that they understand.  I forced myself to say what I’ve thought of saying before but didn’t.  Usually I try to couch things in a way that people feel comfortable with–using ‘spiritual’ language or metaphysical terms or religious iconography.  This time, I just said, “I breathe.”  Eyebrow raised in response, OnePaw waited for further explanation.  Then, I found myself back in the same pattern–trying to use words that just don’t work to describe what I do, trying to make someone else more comfortable with their ‘unknown’.  I suppose sitting at a bar, drinking a beer (or three) with a woman who claims to ‘just breathe’ and heal others maybe is just a little on the ‘unknown’ side of things, though.  Who knows?

Here’s what I do know.  I breathe. That’s it.

It just so happens that when I breathe, the essence of all that is, God, the Universe, the Ground of Being, Source, whatever the Flavor of the Day is, moves through me and, in turn, moves through others.  And lives change, people.  That’s it. It’s magic is in its simplicity.

From now on you won’t hear me mimicking the voice of others so that yet others feel comfortable or can stay in their bubble box of life-stuff.

What you will hear is my truth grounded in experience and the universal truth moves through me and sometimes manifests in words.  It does just so happen that my Voice–the truth within and without–is shared by many. It has been over the course of human existence.  However, it is heard by few and understood by less.  Only sometimes, though.

Because God’s unwieldly love cannot be contained in words you want or think you need to hear.  When the vastness of God meets the restriction of our own humanity, words cannot hold it.  The best we can do is find the moments that rhyme with the experience of His/Her/Our love.

Father Boyle of Homeboy fame has asked …”Who can explain this moment, when the utter fullness of God rushes in on you–when you completely know the One in whom ‘you move and live and have your being’?”

When I breathe, that’s what happens.  That’s it.

It’s how I live, how I move through daily life–fully conscious of my connection to all that is, to everyone.  It feel it at every fiber, at all times.  It and I may not make much sense to others.  But, for me, it’s the only thing that makes sense. It fits in no box & can’t be contained in words.  It is, however,  an experience that I want to share with everyone.

What ifs and why fors…food for thought.

The other day I was struck with a string of questions.  They didn’t necessarily emerge from any real, in-depth thought.  Not things I’ve been ruminating on but they just came in a burst.  A rather long one but what are you gonna do?  Turn it off?  Methinks not.  So I put pen to paper and let it flow.

Here’s what came:

Why is it that some have such an issue with what I’ll call “just knowing” of the instant kind?  We eat like instant oatmeal, instant communications, quick meals, quickies (oh, c’mon now!), and what not, right? So, why the particular issue w/ this thing called enlightenment?  Is it because we’ve perceived it as something so special that it was attainable for only a few?  Is it because it’s not understood so therefore it cannot be?   Why is it, particularly in this age where instant gratification is sought, appreciated and expected does it seem so strange that one could see/know God, the Divine, the Essence, the Source, or themselves in one moment?

Why is it that this enlightenment or higher state of being is deemed inaccessible but for years of study or suffering, or so “special” that it can only be bestowed upon another by some Sri or Swami Justanothershmuckingituptananda?

Why is it that superfluous language is used to set us apart as some “thing” special–>particularly those of the persuasion that we’re not “just human”?

What if the whole point of this thing–this experience for which there really are no words really, truly is NOW?  Not just the being present in the moment but NOW as in this life. Here. Now.

What if our soul didn’t come back time after time until we ‘got it right’?

What if this is ‘just right’?  Just here, just now, this breath and this lifetime?

What if this is it?

What would that change for how you experienced life if you knew this life, this time was the ‘getting it right’?  Or, that this time, this life–this time in life was ‘just right’? Just the way it is?  That you are ‘just right’?  The way  you are?

Would it change your perception of past lives?  St. Peter? Pearly Gates? After life as you believe it now?

What if we all really are “just human”?   Ordinary, fleshy, brilliantly messed up humans with all the trimmings?   What if the Ascended Masters, Saints Galore and the hosts of Angels we call upon aren’t ‘out there’ surrounding us invisibly to be channeled by ‘special’ people really aren’t?  What if, because we are all connected, those qualities that we’ve projected upon these otherwise ordinary dead dudes (and dudettes) and imaginations really is simply within us all and ‘channeling’ Metratron (or whoever)  is nothing more special than speaking Truth?

Would that change your perception of you?  Your brilliant self?  How you do your ‘spiritual’ business?  How you see the psychic that does your readings? Your priest, padre, shaman, guru?  Your neighbor? Would you write your own book?  Would that change how you separate yourself from others?  Would that change your sense of your own simple, extra-ordinariness?

What if this ‘spiritual’ stuff that we think of as outside of us really isn’t?

What if it is us?  What if it is ‘just life’.  Regular, everyday life? What if knowing this is enlightenment, being ‘awake’ and engaged?

And, what if it is available to you instantly?  What if, in an instant, one breath, one sunrise, one ka-ping upside the head, one exhale you could really, truly experience the connection we have with all things, all people?  Conscious of the connection with what we choose to call Divine?  What if, in that instant you became Conscious and awoke to your own ridiculously fabulous, gloriously fucked up, magnificent, magical, amazing self? And knew you were ‘just right’ just the way you are?   What if realizing yourself is just that simple?

What if those of us who happen to be here and now w/ these “Gifts” really aren’t all that special?  What if we just happen to speak the same thing spoken by sages and mages since time began and more people can hear us now?   What if none  of us channel a damn thing that burbles out of our mouth?  What if, because it is Truth that we ‘just know’ and that everyone can ‘just know’, it isn’t that special?  What if that all we do is, well, do.  And, what if,  we realize that since we are all connected that we are responsible for more than just ourselves when we let things burble out of mouth?

What if you knew that in each breath, another was breathing with you?  What if, for a moment or two a day, you realized there was another heart beating in time with yours?

What if that is the message and it’s that simple?

What if the simplicity is that we can all ‘just know’ God, ourselves, and our connections to each other in a moment and that is all that it is about?  What if we can do it by just being here, in this lifetime, in this breath, now.  Being just a ridiculously extra-ordinary human.  By BE-ing.  Period.   No guru needed.

What if?