Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Waking Up To Consciousness


Published in Rebelle Society


 © Susan Marie 


You know those moments when you thought, “Wow, I almost died!”

Right now, I can feel a scar on the side of my neck left by an innocent bee that stung me in September, and once again, I almost died.

Yet, I am alive.

I look at such times as windows. Portholes in life where one small instance, a millisecond, saved our lives.

Each instance causes me to question my path, purpose, every fiber of my being and those connected to me and this immense human family I belong to — all of us swirling around in a globe, wondering why we are here.

There are times that you simply must capture, just for a moment. The start of each day before it begins, when birds trill selflessly against a beyond cerulean sky.

Listen, do you hear that?  
Shh. Go ahead, open the window, walk outside. 
Take a look around you and do not forget to look UP. 

Harness that every day, right now, bring that into yourself, the woods and forests, the turns and paths, the leaves and trees and Earth. Take a walk, work in your garden, play with your children, create art, write, sing, dance, whatever it is that you do that brings you to life — that feeling — harness that.

Catch first morning rays breaking through limbs when the dew kisses the leaves, ever so loving.

Stand with your back against the spine of Mother Nature, tilt your head upwards, maniacal, and be happy planted pure, in her face, the dirt, her blood, the bones, her roots, your feet, and feel complete because my dear soul, you are home.

Walking out of nature, energy shoots right out of my back between my shoulder blades. A celestial shotgun to the sternum — shazam!

The entire front of me guarded, preparing me for stepping back into society. In those moments, I am weightless and able to fly, and I spread my wings — glorious and majestic — and thank Dear Earth for unblocking what keeps me chained to myself. I realize then the extent of the power of consciousness.


It is a blessing to walk into this. Everybody is in a rush, caught up in whatever. 

I am mesmerized by the sun, the way she dances and dapples, illuminating leaves with paprika and turmeric. The veil is with me always, where I am able to move my hand, lucid and glass-like, lifting silken skirts of varied states of existence.

I blankly stare at people walking and kids riding bikes, and somehow, I don’t belong; somehow, I’m somewhere else; somehow, my spirit is screaming to be let free; somehow, I’m here, yet somehow no one notices me.

Two worlds within one: illusion, reality.

Traffic traffic, traffic… there’s got to be more to life than waiting. How do we live like this? Look at this! Look at us all, turning and waiting and going, and everybody is suddenly addicted to being busy. What are you busy with?

What is your purpose?

Why are you here?

Where did you come from?”

I am a bastard child of the new world.






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