Guilt

Guilt is the outworking of the ego which simply has to keep busy. Keep me looking elsewhere rather than at my own divinity. Guilt airbrushes my joy by debunking it.

I am pulled into its black hole when I do not lead with Light & misremember to stay in Prayer.

I am defined by my guilt being both subsumed & then shadowed by it…doubling the drama. I am slammed from front & back & my physical body seems to succumb to its darkness.

Is Light the way out for me? I cannot know in the midst of this 3D push-pull. Likely the way out is far beyond such for me now. Likely it only resides in more.

The Wisdomkeepers, those I define as having a solid empowerment in timeless Good & who manage to stay ahead of me on the Path returning to Source, may counsel doing this or that as Free Will defines & refines my thoughts, my personal & potential responses.

I have heavenly appetites while drawn to earthly desires. I am inclined to good, to betterment, to improvement, like so many. I am fearsomely made to unbalance both of these with inclinations which ultimately harm me by nudging away my good. I have the false presented to me as Truth; I become confused. I am perplexed by what seems good & deflect to lesser pursuits. However, I find the less lives only in the momentary distraction of now. Enacting the now, the mighty jaws of guilt snap shut & enshrine that moment in false light.

This is why forgiveness is my ultimate experience in 3D. Guilt is like walking through spiderwebs, sticky & inelegant at best, impossible to brush off or “un-feel,” harder still to disentangle from. But rare, beautiful Truth bobs on ahead & I (imperfectly, haltingly) follow. Truth is the cosmic lint brush of divestiture. Love is the polishing cloth restoring me to original blessing.

Light can burn off the dross of darkness, leaving me nude & unashamed, unadorned & feeling as tho I sure could look a lot better in glittering robes, a few sequins & a little makeup.

I stand mostly alone these days, looking out over the cosmic crossroads of life & death. I stand at the mouth of Plato’s Cave, perplexed at all the brightness. I stand afraid to forgive myself – this seems too encompassing, too almighty to express as my bald Truth.

The question of forgiving my own sins denudes me yet again. I reach for a robe. At least when sinning, I feel my own substance!

But do you know what? Every day I clothe myself is another chance to strip it all off, find Love in exposure, find belonging to heaven really does require I pass through the eye of that needle naked.

I had this incorrect notion once that diving into dark water would cleanse me. It wasn’t stupid, just light on Light.

What I now discover is mine to do is release every stitch of covering. I need to show up in my drip-dry body & look about the shore. My soul may be the last to emerge from the experience in huge relief it is momentarily over.

How will I feel when I re-engage with my soul fully, ready, squeaky clean in purpose, in intent?

Then will I garment myself in Truth’s shining raiment to find I don’t even need the shoes laid out for me to walk that Path, since now I can fly.