Early Morning Mist | Neomi May

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Early Morning Mist

I wake up. The air is fresh. The sun begins to shine through the dense cover of green leaves. I hear the waves crash in the distance, and I hear the jungle life begin to stir.

Howlers. Parakeets. Cicadas. Never a silent moment in this dense forest. Beaming with life. With inspiration. With desire and beauty. I too want to mirror the landscape. I too want to stand proud like the mountains. Vast like the sea. I too want to command over the earth, like the rain that carves out mud puddles, river beds, and deep chasms of cliffs.

The shale rock is brittle. Crush it and it collapses with ease.

I too feel brittle. Like I could collapse at any moment. Not letting myself breathe deep the fresh air. I feel myself holding it all within. As if one release of the breathe will release a particle, the size of a grain of salt or sand, and then just like that a whirlwind of all will come from within. All will come out. All will come clean. Be released surrendered. Shaken and stirred.

What then.

Life as I know would be over. And I think that is what I want.

Not for it to be done with completely. But for these stories, these lies, these false truths to be untold. I want to be the real me. The me who is in joy and in love in life. … but I cant seem to find her. I grasp this heart for a moment and then as elusive as she came, she is gone. I grasp an understanding of a thought, connected it to my heart, but in an instant it is false, ill fated and wrong. A piece of myself, I crave to bury deep within that vast mountain over to the east, yes the one over there. The one no one speaks of, the one no one notices, the one no one cares about. Yes that one over there, that one is me.

How do I escape these pieces of me. How do I re-embrace and become whole. I scatter around, bit by bit, the longings of my soul. They are now so far scattered, that I don’t even recognize them when the sun reflects off their surface blinding me in my eye.

What was that?

Your heart.

A piece of your heart that you denied long ago. No way to reclaim it. Look the other way and just go.

But wait. I cant. It is mine. It is me. It needs to return or I’ll never be free.

Fine. But just know that you’ll spend years digging deeper, hiding further out of sight, and disbelieving even more than you thought possible. You’ll have gone so deep and so far, you again wont recognize yourself. You will have become so ugly, full of frustration and hate, and self loathing, that you will not want to go on any longer.

But that is the way to God.


Yes you will find yourself, one sweet morning, standing alone in the middle of the dirt road. Mountains on your right, immense ocean on your left. As you walk, slowly, softly, given up powerlessness altogether, you will surrender. And that is when it will flow.

It will flow?

Yes it will finally flow. When you admit the greatness of your spirit. The peace of your heart. The compassion of your eyes will speak the will of your soul. Your beauty will shine. Your spirit will soar. Your lightness will burn brighter than ever before. The dust will start to settle, the rain will begin to fall softly. It is the fresh morning air, that brings you back home to the longings of your soul.

The path of the mountain. The sparkle in your eyes. Speak softly my dear. And be here. Now. It is the way to your truth. The glimmer of hope that simmers in your heart. The cauldron that burns the fires within.

It will never end.

But you will learn how to breathe and enjoy the journey within.

Only then will it shine out of you and fill throughout your life.

Aham Brahmasmi – I am that I am

– Saturday, September 24, 2016

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