Skip to main content

I am with you...I am you

Photo credit J. Scott Bovitz

Outside of time we are all one.

In the illusion of time we are forced to watch the pattern of separation that exists on every level of form: edges and outlines; boundaries, barriers, and bodies; shapes and infrastructures with a lot of walls and dividers; mathematics, language, aesthetics, perception, science, and all of the theories that come with these, etc. etc.; and the biggy--relationships with each other and ourselves.

And within all this form the very comical: all of it configured to join with aspects of itself, to give the illusion of oneness. We are forced to watch form try and assemble itself into oneness all the time, but with no apparent success, at least for very long. There is always the act of moving into oneness, and then separation. Yes, this includes one-night stands. All roads end in paradox.

What if I could assert here that we are one, and that all our Minds are joined, even if our bodies aren't? What happens to you, happens to me. What happens to me, happens to you. And it is all happening to heal this sense of separation from ourselves, and from one another, so that when we do come together in the world of form, the space is clear, the love is clear. There is no needing. There is empowerment. There is a love that exists forever, free, outside of time and into the infinite, and it belongs to all of us, at the same time it belongs to just two of us.

As I peel the layers of fear away, a natural byproduct is that all kinds of structures begin to look laughable. They are really funny--all made with the hopes of creating an illusion of security, and perhaps a sense of organization, but their very nature is falling short--their very nature separate and separating. We become tyrants in upholding it. These structures look wobbly from here, like jello. I find myself wanting to bounce around on them, lemon, lime, raspberry, strawberry, oh, and orange. Fun to play in, but I'd never actually eat the stuff and expect myself to be nourished by it.

There is another kind of nourishment, but it exists outside of form. Most of us don't find it because it is very ironically, deeply hidden within the world of form, which has also been ingeniously devised to distract us from finding it. But when we do find it, form becomes pregnant with meaning and purpose. It begins to serve our highest good by helping us delineate which structures are helpful, and which ones to let go of that don't serve us. It helps us to feel them melting away--even if within the illusion they appear to still be standing. They don't affect us anymore. They don't imprison us. The breaking down of our adhering to them does not harm, but rather heals. Or at least our new perception will see it that way.

You find this nourishment by awakening, and it tastes like unconditional love, like oneness; where form comes together, even within the constructs of the illusion, but instead of separation shortly after, there is lasting, resounding peace and joy, and a stable feeling of oneness. There is healing of the mind, and the world of form has no other choice but to heal with it.

If you continue to strip away the layers of your fear, naturally what follows are the toppling of external structures you adhered to--that were built out of a consciousness of fear by you or your predecessors, out of a sense of having to follow the norm, out of a sense of fearing being too individualistic to question your path, out of a sense of lacking, out of a sense of providing for the future, because there might not be enough to go around.

This process of stripping away continues until nothing remains. On some level you must be able to imagine this place, even at the beginning. You must be able to go here in your quiet, because this is the only place where you can hear your Self. Outside of fear, there is a gentle power that begins to become you, and it is only loving. It cannot cause harm to self or others. It can only heal perception. But somehow you are led in this process. It does not happen within the realm of intellectual reasoning. (Did you hear that?) But you can get there by beginning in this place.

This force resides in the heartspace. It is a divine intelligence. It is who you really are, and have always been. It is why it feels more like a remembering than a learning. In fact, all learning falls away. There is no need for it when all the externals have been stripped away.

This place is not passive. It is very active, but it is grounded in sanity.

There is a profound letting go that has to happen to access this place, because it doesn't compete with the noise in our minds. It has no need to. It is too loving. It doesn't join us in our stories and validate them. It holds the space for clarity. It is like a patient parent watching its child having a tantrum, reaching, screaming, needing. It holds no sense of time, and so it feels no expectation or need to quiet the tantrum for itself. It trusts the process and intelligence of the child. It is always there streaming through, always ready, and always willing. It sends us who and what we need when we are ready for it, to awaken peace within us, with ease. It is a model for us to change this world. But it cannot and does not exist directly in our physical constructs, but only around them in the spaciousness. It would not make our prisons real.

In the nothingness of our stripped away selves, we find this force was always there. It can wait forever, because it knows that our inheritance is freedom and peace.

This is where our minds are joined. In this place. It is where we are free to fully expose who we are, because we recognize that we are all the same. The illusion hides this, and keeps us pretending, keeps us scared, keeps us in our frenetic energies running down dead end roads.

Where our minds are joined, is where we feel our brother as our self.

In this place we become more of who we really are. We stop fueling the need for self-importance, and we fall in love with what is. We fall in love with those around us, because we see that they are us. We open an abyss of compassion so deep that we see through to the Soul, and we are nourished by it, and we nourish by it.

Do you see a new world? Do you see a new dispensation being born out of realizing that we were never at the mercy of all this pain and heartache? Do you feel how it could never really touch us? Do you see how our hearts have always been strong enough? Do you see how all of our experience has brought us to this place?

We are ready. We are ready to love more deeply than we've ever dreamed possible, to see more beauty than we ever could have imagined, to see the miracle of peace, in a world where we are all dying--to see it from another angle, and from a healed perception-to stop our painful attachments, and have all that our hearts(not our heads)desire--to really live.

There is no separation. There never was. I am always with you. You are always with me. It has always been this way. You will find it. Outside of time, it is there. At first it might feel as though someone has shot you through the heart and caused a crater so big, you don't know how you could possibly survive, but within that hole, you will feel the inklings of the possibility of a love so big, that it could never be contained within a body.

And it will lead.

I feel myself unafraid. I feel myself ready to surrender to this love.

A while ago I had a dream that someone I know was stabbing the hell out of me, and I just watched them doing it, looking down at my body bleeding out, with curiosity. Instead of feeling fear and dread, I felt the stirrings of compassion, the awareness of a pain so great that one would have no other choice than to take it out on my body. I was shocked to feel so unafraid, to feel love in the place of fear, to understand, and to let them feel their pain, but not join them in it.

I know that living from the heart is seeping into my subconscious, and I welcome it. It is not to say that in my 'waking' life, that I would be this strong, but I am opening to the possibility. This is so much more peaceful a perception than the story that my body is more important than loving my brother. From this quiet place, my heart heals perception, and I'd rather be in peace, not using my body as a weapon.

I know it wouldn't be my body that needed to be healed, but my mind. It sounds absurd, but the body becomes just a tool in awakening this kind of love and compassion for one's self and for others. It serves no other purpose that means anything. To use it any other way, causes separation. With this awareness, some higher intelligence begins to use your body to find healing of the mind--and it will surprise you how good it wants you to feel.

No more warring within yourself and with others. You know what you need on a deeper level, and you give it to yourself. No more hearts paralyzed forever, living untruths out of fears that deaden the spirit, unable to tell the truth because of some underlying belief that we don't deserve happiness beyond measure.

It is in this space that we begin to see what happiness really is very simply, the realization that our minds are joined in a space of love and acceptance that sees no terror--that is unable to see any terror.

Can you see how it has all led up to this moment?

I've had just glimpses of this space of peace. It is messy to get to this place. It takes suspending judgement about situations. It means saying a lot of the wrong things, but with your heart in the right place. It is letting yourself feel your stories fully until they can finally fall away. It is no longer suppressing anything in yourself and judging it as saying something about who you are. It is embracing the love trying to burst forth within you, and letting it lead you out of the darkness. It means tripping, and making a lot of mistakes, and admitting that you don't know what the hell you are doing. Yet, that it could all be so beautiful in these moments... that I could feel more seen than I've ever felt...

I see a divine order and it bids me follow it. And I do, more and more, because it just feels so much better. And the funny thing? Nothing is different. I'm still a mommy, a sister, a friend. I still pay the bills, shit and shower, but yet, everything is different. I'm less and less on my own power, and more and more open to what is being shown to me. I am healing and being healed by my life. And I can't wait for what is next, because I know that it is a deeper sense of awe, a deeper sense of freedom, a deeper sense of love--it just keeps expanding.

I see that I am not special and neither are you, and that is a beautiful thing, because together we are divine, outside any labels that would attempt to separate us.

Here's, yet again, to the healing of the world, by the healing of our minds. And the secret? Just sit back and watch it happen to you.


  1. Hiya Brooke,

    Another beautiful, heartfelt blog on the wild road home. I actually enjoy being in the flow; everything is lit with hope and sparkles with a gentle friendliness.I think you sparkle.

    ACIM says 'There is no living thing that does not share the universal will that it be whole.'

    Heres to wholeness Brooke; you, me and everybody - living juicy as one.

    Love Nige

  2. Just a reflection of your own splendid sparkling, Nige! Living juicy as one:) Yes, here's to that!

  3. Oh my. What can i say that i haven't already said to you dozens of times?

    I love you.

    You're beautiful.

    Your words point the way home, they are a soft cushy place to fall and come back to again and again.

    I agree with Nige, you sparkle, my friend.


  4. "I've had just glimpses of this space of peace. It is messy to get to this place."

    I love this, Brooke! You speak to my condition, as the Quakers say.

    Thank you for another timely and timeless post!


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

Partaking of the Fruit

Photo by Anya Vasilieva on What I most struggle with in creative writing is that there are some ideas that just feel like they belong in the ether, in the natural born clouds. They aren’t meant to be pinned down, and every time I try to pin them down into a practical form on a page, I wound them a little bit, and must throw them back up into the ether for repair, to restore their more nebulous characteristics. This content isn’t supposed to have legs and weight, and to make noise when it walks, or to have such things as a name and defining characteristics. Rather, just whiffs of possibility that hint at an undercurrent of parallel worlds so vast and amazing as to put any Tolkien or Rowling to shame. Its just supposed to hang there, ripe for plucking, but the plucker beware. The fruit bruises easily. And yet, there are those books that seem to pin down something that doesn’t maim the central cast of characters, and in fact broadens the material into something that change