Separation from God, self, and others is a deep and tragic illusion
Somewhere in the recesses of our psyche we have the key to diffuse the confusion and seek the solution

From our childlike nature
Creation has been in commune with the creator
Somewhere in our timeline we began to separate from the divine
As more weight was placed on our soul
it’s like gravity began to take hold
Muscles that yet to develop were called into tearing through the skinned that enveloped
Our perichores became a bravado staccato of tripping over our ego
And life turned into a gala of masquerade
It’s where we learned the art of masking
It’s where our intellect and emotion began clashing
We learned to adorn our flesh with garments to hide the internal torment
In order to never feel vulnerable when nude we covered our deep scars with tattoos
The same way we cover the wounds in our soul with our personality adaptation
Personally selecting the inhabitants of our community
But when it’s based in broken philosophy any disagreement is viewed as hypocrisy

It’s hard to know who our neighbor truly is behind the show
When we ourselves shelved our true self and continued to grow without removing the cloak
Until we no longer know
where our true face ended and our obscurely manicured face began

But hey, we are all masked here so a lack of vulnerability helped us blend in

So now
Muscle memory has taken over
And this false self has become an involuntary presentation
That presents itself cinematically at the worst times
And overrides who we want to be as if we want to be this travesty by design

There comes the time where the distractions no longer work
Where we feel stuck in the crux of the labels that wear us and the inner truth in which we long to wear
Between the slavery of what we eat to how we dress
Only befriending others who speak how we speak, work where we work and share our definition of freedom and democracy
We have grown so afraid of the magnitude of who we truly are and the power we truly posses
That we bend and fold into our smaller selves to fit in these boxes that we profess to be true and pretend we don’t care
The reason the Israelites pitched tents in the wilderness is because they were never meant to live there
Yet we have built houses and planted roots on infertile soil
Instead of being honest with ourselves about being imperfect and uprooting the pain
We just stayed hither and withered and continue to be imperfectly insane

The hope is
once we accept our own imperfections it makes it easier to accept the world’s
Where as men we can be weak little boys and women can be helpless little girls
And it’s still OK because it doesn’t make you less-than
It makes you real and lifts the burden

Where we can be whole, connected and stop the gestational generational of nurturing emotional casualty
We can be beautifully broken and messy and flawed
Embrace the plight of our life’s journey upright and strong
We can celebrate our mistakes instead of taking it as a title
Laugh and love a little more

We were made for more than walking through life with clenched fist
To be loved fully
On the other side of the defense
In case no one ever told you let me tell you now
You are beautiful with no pretense
You are a masterpiece
Fearlessly, fearfully and wonderfully made
You are special and rare and incredibly unique
You are gifted and flawed and the keeper of everything you seek
Your relationship with yourself will determine everyone after
You can turn the page filled with pain and rage and let love write your new chapter
You are love in its purest form
It’s in your nature
From your Creator
Open your wild heart to a love that can’t be contained