It was a glorious walk this morning, earlier than normal. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, lighting the maple trees, the firs and cedars in a most spectacular display, mystically splashing their infinite shades of green against the backdrop of shadow and light.
As I walked I found myself dipped in awe, in full recognition of why we incarnate, of why we are willing to slip into density even with the full awareness that embodied life will be both kind and cruel.
The light alone is reason enough when we allow ourselves to fall into the mesmerizing emptiness, the ecstasy of life’s infinite fullness. I never cease to be amazed at the apparent patterns and seeming chaos, this gloriously broken playground where we appear shackled to earth while untethered in actuality. It is stunning to me how life functions at all. The infinite intelligence simply blows my mind, splitting the atoms of existence and scattering them among the stars. Here now, we are scared sacred by the seed of our longing for love, molded by our perfected experiences, revealed to be that which is the heart of aliveness.
Years back, I wished my mother a nourishing incarnation, right before she took a body again. She replied that, ‘It all looks great from here.’ I was still laboring under the impression of easy and hard lifetimes, of curses and blessings. I missed what she was saying as she danced through my nervous system. I wasn’t ready for her words, but they planted seeds that germinated and set up shoots of green.
Seeing through the eyes of infinite possibility, of unbounded aliveness, what could ever be amiss? It is only once we find our unlimited Self confined to a limited form that we wonder what the heck we were thinking.
I am fascinated by the fact that Mother and Kenny, and countless others, communicate with me in the guise of their most recent iteration. It is all This assuming form, taking on identities, playing its role for the whole, masquerading as life, so it seems the form is for my benefit alone. Making the connection to someone remembered is easy, although it is not necessary at all. A hummingbird once buzzed past and instantly, effortlessly imparted its essence, its data field mixing with mine, sharing its wealth of information, its messages from the other side which is not another side at all.
There was a time in my life that I wanted to awaken to avoid another lifetime. Life was so painful and getting out, high on my list. That seems comical today, yet compassionately understood. Life is not for sissies, but none of us are, even though we may think so at times.
What we are is reincarnation, this manifesting as life, both sides of the coin always in play, divinely human and humanly divine. There is no way to stop the show. The show is what this is, what we are. We are not measly human beings, not measly at all. Human beingness is not something to overcome, to annihilate or conquer. It is the ultimate in exhibitionism, life showing itself off, displaying its majesty. We are life itself.
There is no appropriate bio for Amaya Gayle. She doesn’t exist other than as an expression of Consciousness Itself. Talking about her in biographical terms is a disservice to the truth and to anyone who might be led to believe in such nonsense. None of us exist, not in the way we think. Ideas spring into words. Words flow onto paper and yet no one writes them. They simply appear fully formed. Looking at her you would swear this is a lie. She’s there after all, but honestly, she’s not. Bios normally wax on about accomplishments and beliefs, happenings in time and space. She has never accomplished anything, has no beliefs and like you was never born and will never die. Engage with Amaya at your own risk.
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