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The Way Out is the Way In

Let's get a little hot and heavy.

The things we run from, fear, and avoid, are the things that will set us free.

On some deep, subconscious level we acknowledge this; yet we continue running - far, far, away from freedom. Are we afraid that by embracing our fear, by looking it square in the face, we will be making a mockery of how we chose to live our lives up to that point? Afraid to admit, out of shame, how blind and ignorant we've acted? I dare to think we there is more courage within our sweet, wretched bodies than this.

We are also afraid that once freedom is attained, once we fully open our eyes and let that deeply rooted fear into our present consciousness, our whole world will change. That every aspect of our lives that we have seemingly built ourselves will shift and possibly crumble when we become free of the fear that has driven us to create all that we have. What if that fear is the only thing keeping us alive? What if it is the only motivating factor in our current existence? If the fear has made us who we are - has shaped all of our choices - then what happens if we let it go? Who are we? What are we made of? How do we even live?! What do we live for?! We are so near rock bottom, I can smell the sulfur pits of hell - don't turn back now! There is magic ahead! There is nothing closer to the top than rock bottom. We realize that fear has permeated ALL of our life. The thought of being free of it naturally raises the concern that, without it, one might actually disappear. Into thin air. No longer exist. And therein lies the power of surrender. You have either reached a literal or metaphorical 'rock bottom' at which point you no longer give a single shit, or you are one sick puppy, curious enough to travel into the abyss. You say, 'fuck it', and let go. Hoping, praying - maybe not caring? whether there will be something or someone there to catch you - or that there will be anything left for you to catch. Feels like suicide. You blink your tear-swollen eyes. Or maybe they are hot, dry, and filled with rage from the frustration of it all. Either way, they close shut, in surrender. And then...they open. They open to the same scene as before. You are still alive, and your world has not imploded. But something is different. All is the same, minus a certain feeling...minus the choking strangle-hold feeling. Minus the deep despair. Just minus. Your mind has taken it's metaphorical hand off your ever-so-real throat, and you take a deep breath. You can still see and feel the dark tendrils that have maneuvered themselves into every far corner of your existence. But they are no longer alive. You cut off their life-source when you told fear you don't fucking care anymore. Now you go to work. By instinct alone, you begin removing the dead threads of fear, one by one. With some effort, they pull gently out of the deep, dark, recesses of every aspect of your life. You drag, peel, and scrape the decay from each tunnel. You rest when you are tired, and you begin again. And as you dispose of the decayed tendrils, you notice the void that is left in it's path. A beautiful void, a perfect absence. By instinct alone, and by perfect accident, you have cleared the way for the light of spirit to enter. As you step back, your hands and nails caked with sludge and your brow sweaty with the effort, you see an unbelievable sight. All the dark tunnels and sunken pathways, now illuminated with light, create the most vivid and stunning stained glass art piece that is your friggin life. And the light goes DEEP - as deep as the fear went - into every part of your being and every far-reaching corner of your existence. The deeper the fear, the more illuminated the life. Who would have thought. Do you see it? Can you feel it? Surrender is like a suicide attempt gone perfectly right. By giving up on everything you thought you were, you give IN to everything you truly are. The fast-pass to spiritual re-birth in this lifetime. I don't know about you, but I don't have time to waste. Sign me up.

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