– By Patrick Ryan
The majesty of the star studded gown of Sophia, begetting a world of ecstatic revelation cojoined with wild passion. We assume an individual isolated persona, a self that is separated from this grand display, spending its days tense and worried — the mortgage, our placid marriage, the looming threat of bodily demise. The suffocation felt of yearning for more, yet when achieved, fades away into the void of the forgotten. Our elaborate societies are built around this fundamental impulse; capitalistic enterprises pull resources from the ecologically devastated planet in order to suffuse us with another potential escape. We seek the free fall of post orgasmic bliss, the rush of heroin as it surfs our bloodstream, a cold beer, another gluttonous meal — the immaculately free yawn of now invites us warmly yet is perpetually missed.
The spheres sing their melodies to us, falling consistently on deaf ears in favor for an existence of tight tense desire. If only we listened! Etched in the divine tapestry of the cosmos is an epic narrative. Not for some divine begotten heir, but our very own life as a paramount expression in the stellar symphony. One that chants us back, constantly contaminating our thoughts with ‘what if?’ Our Solemn mediocre lives are but a denial of our own innate cosmic expressions. Sophia Ma’s grand gifts are dismissed for a life of striving and chasing rather than the expression of unspeakable fullness. Blessed with the burden to act as conduits for the pantheon, we often choose to settle for an existence of half lived subtle torment. This inverted approach to being alive is but the demiurge of our own lost paradise. A frantic perpetual chasing the tails of anointed potential, which lies forever dormant in the hearts of all.
Shallow breathing muddies our morning commute, as we frivolously shout and languish at surrounding traffic; our heart suffocates with envy as anxiety ensnares us to the inevitable end of a dedicated romance — the dreadful Samsaric spokes of wasted moments prod ever more deeply into our hearts and souls. Let us not forget our celestial origins, forever whispering to us our forgotten place within the divine symmetry. Make no mistakes; we are begotten of the Mother and ourselves divine incarnate! Our ordained purpose is to be but an emanation of the celestial harmony, to saturate the world around us — serving as a medium for the sublime and delectable. A life lived this way allows even the most burdensome commute to be one of ease and delight. A dash of humor enlivens routine conversations, a wink and a smile opens the cold rigid world to it’s innate etheric proportions. Even the most hellish circumstances be-give the opportunity for transmutation into celebratory gestures of the bright shine of Her cosmic emanation.
The immaculate Lady calls us forward deeper into her gaping abyss. Aligned with her divine shine, may the helical whorl of her cosmos thrust behind our every gaze and gesture, penetrating ever more deeply into Her, erect with the fullness of cosmic appropriation. Shall we lock ourselves into this stellar Logos, transmuting mundane existence into an encounter with divinity — all it takes is a choice. Mediocrity and comfort are the death sentences of this elegance. Her bloody fanged jaws clench ever more deeply, hoping to inspire a temporary life lived as a gesture of infinity; The Mother Flame dances wildly, devouring all as it creates anew. We’ve been striving for eons after her; life time after life time, continually searching without realizing the opportunity for our inspired marriage is always now and forever. The passion of sacrificing our petty sense of separation holds the promise of ecstatic communion with our sought after maiden. Every moment is but an entrance to allow her luminous flame to shine through — blessing us with the obligation to flood this world with her exquisite radiance
The grand lie that we’ve been fooled into believing is this life is a cast off haven – a deprived purgatory awaiting for it’s due and reconciliation, assuming this place to be an aborted bastard child of a long forgotten Goddess. Rather the Truth is, the very reason we inhabit this place is to bring redemption. The Christos is aflame in the hearts of all, waiting to be shared without restraint and apology. Magdalenes yearning is soon to be quenched; this Communion is imminent — right now. To hell with the doctrines of old condemning us to an existence of servitude. This World is one of polarization giving way to synthesis – acting as the union between the Divine and the flesh. We are it’s arbiters ushering in the supra-stellar majesty of all that can be conceived. Do we dare take on this role or retreat back into a life of false security and silent suffering?
The crucifixion of karmic torment potentiates the passion of open hearted redemption. May the Love of even the most ill fates permeate every moment – for every breath shall be breathed with the immensity of the cosmic majesty. Nothing is to be gotten, everything is a gift — shall the divinely engendered fruits of the cosmos stand as a revelation out of our mundane circumstances. Deep breathes and open hearts — fulfillment shared for the sake of all. Living as a sacrifice from the wretched and banal to the utmost of hollies. How else does Eden redeem itself?