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    Home»Amaya Gayle Gregory»The Daffodil Knows
    Amaya Gayle Gregory

    The Daffodil Knows

    February 26, 2022No Comments
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    By Amaya Gayle Gregory

    Amaya Gayle Gregory
    Amaya Gayle Gregory

    Let us speak heart to heart. No more mind stuff getting in the way, sowing fake seeds, germinating doubt and misery, and missing the point entirely … at least for a moment or two. Do you know how beautiful life is? Humans are the strangest creatures 😉 not seeming to know, striving, always striving, rarely stopping to simply fully embody life. 

    Daffodils know. They bow down, not from the weight of the dew, but to honor this intensely perfect moment of life. Thrushes burst out in song, overflowing with joy, filled to the brim with hymns of adoration for no reason at all, reasonless joy, simply because they’re alive. All of nature knows. Seasons cycle, they come and go … and come again. The tide rolls in and and back out again. Not just once, but infinitely. How could you be any less?  

    Your playing small doesn’t fool them, doesn’t trick them into believing such a thing as smallness exists. They all know what life is and they know who you are too. Nothing can change that. It’s just what it is. 

    As are you. 

    Do as you do, as you, this marvelous mash-up of heaven and earth, will. Contrary to appearances, you’ve never been in the driver’s seat, but there you sit, so play your role with gusto. Pretend that you aren’t enough. Put on the mask of anger and frustration. Spend your life doing what you can’t not do. There isn’t a better way. There isn’t even another way. There is only the way it unfolds so if you can, quit looking in the rearview mirror. Watch the years pass, your holy body misbehave. Watch as it takes on the sheen of age or illness and appears to die. Play the game for all you are worth. Play it full tilt boogie while breath still moves and blood flows. Play it fully, fooly, unruly, right up to that last beat of your beautiful heart.  

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    Or … you can fight it, try to wrestle life to the ground, swim against the tides and do your best to change your path. If your life includes the resistance clause, that too, is part of the role. If you believe yourself a genius striving to right the world, or see yourself as a spiritual hero here to save it, if you appear to be intelligent, ignorant or are exalted as an awakened one directly in tune with Intelligence itself, whatever shape life takes, it could not be different. It is all the holy ordinary couldn’t be otherwise phenomenal extravaganza with only one actor cast in all the roles.  

    There is nothing anyone does that could be different … and yet, the doing is being informed, tended, revised in the doing. It’s a rather cooperative rolling set up – This cooperating with Itself infinitely eternally 😉 The data needle doesn’t move without you experiencing your role. It’s a divine feedback loop, updating, recalculating, self-correcting, self-replicating, self-sustaining, manifesting in unlimited awareness as limited personal awarenesses playing out as Playland Earth.  

    To one caught in the play, in the magical fascinating spell-biding lie of time, it appears as making mistakes or doing it right, of being blessed or cursed. It is judged to be progress or retreat, success or failure. It is the groundless ground upon which the concept of life or death is born and comes to die.

    The play must play out. That doesn’t mean that your life is any less meaningful or magnificent, regardless of your role. You don’t need to be a billionaire, save the world, or trek to the top of your particular flavor of pinnacle to be worthy, to be included, to have sufficient power. You already are This. You already wield all the power in the cosmos. The daffodils know it and so do the songbirds. They see what you can’t see. They know you for who you are. Take a breath and bow back. Sing along with the Thrush. Whether you know it or not, you are a stunner. 

    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.  www.amayagayle.com

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