Whirlpools, spirals, fingerprint patterns, snakes coiled ready to strike … vortexes of movement expanding contracting pulling in, pushing out … forces of aliveness in form, heartbeats of life. So easy to overlook, to miss completely, to rush past in embrace of the next new thing.
Force fields, unwinding or coiling tighter, appearances of amplification and condensation, of compression and relaxation, up or down, in or out. Every action a vortex, tightening its grip on what is known or opening into the unknown, every breath paying homage to love or to fear, sometimes both at the same time.
Every movement begetting another, every thought fire starter for the next. Each interpretation setting the groundwork for how life is deemed to be, how it may or may not appear … and round and round we go, when it will stop, nobody could know.
All movement creates, is a self-fulfilling prophecy, like creating like, crafting more of the same, drumming up versions of reality in keeping with the movement that gave it birth, bending portals of light into man’s image and magnetizing all that is not simple, basic aliveness, which is everything. Anything visible is duality, is the play and light and shadow, is subject to the twirling dance, grounded in aliveness or not.
The Buddha said, ‘Life is suffering.’ Most spit his words into the wind’s face and wonder why they suffer. We see the good, the passion, the joy and happiness, and say, ‘See, life is not suffering,’ not realizing that the suffering is inherent in joy, Suffering is life’s spiraling display, is the separate self, the one who is born and will die, is life playing out as time and space, the creation and destruction. It cannot be escaped.
Spiritual folk think they’ve found a way around, an escape clause, trusting that unlike pain, suffering is unnecessary, is but a state of mind. So, they sail through the spirals of life, holding tight to their beliefs, trying harder when they forget, beating themselves unmercifully when life causes them to suffer, not escaping the suffering but adding to it with their need to not suffer.
Life is suffering, and it cannot be avoided. It will pull us in and push us out as it will, not as we will. To suffer is human, is part of the spiraling display, the many shades of black and white and grey. To feel grief and hurt, to deeply utterly completely experience our experience is divine, is meeting life with an open heart and welcoming soul, the dance of life and light.
Life goes where it will. Everything in life is telling us this truth. DNA’s double helix, sunflowers and the arrangement of leaves, seashells and ferns, the path of water and weather patterns, whirlpools and galaxies, all spiraling, telling a story, pointing to the deeper reality of what is.
The only way to not suffer is to suffer completely, to not mind if you suffer, to let go into what appears in this moment with full abandon, to stop pushing back against the natural flow of creation. Suffering is life and there is no escape, but there isn’t any need to supplement it with stories of escape.
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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