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.