The path of spiritual and philosophical transcendence. Mysticism. Enlightenment. Since the first day I was exposed to the Taoist and Buddhist concepts in Tao of Jeet Kune Do, I have realized that this is my path. Like the roots of a tree, it is a realization that I have grown in over the years. My mind has branched out, exposed to many ideas, to many realms of thought, belief, and feeling. But my roots have grown ever downwards. Deep down into the unassuming, fertile earth of the base of my own being.
I have come an interesting phase in my own development. Intimations that I once felt with uncertainty and hesitation, have grown strong and now have the force of muscle and conviction behind them. I have heard and felt the heartbeat of my own being, and this subtle sound has changed the nature of the music the world makes for me. This vulnerable, transient thing that is the manifestation of my very self is something that I come to actually trust. I have found that my self is something both far stronger and far more wondrous that I ever suspected.
I have become less and less concerned with ideas like advancement, power, control, and victory. These things have been replaced by a surge of motivation from within, and enjoyment and revelry in life and my own existence in this world for its own sake. And although I am very intrigued and in love with the dance of motions of the world and all the other dancers within it, I find that my motivation more and more comes from within rather than without. Concepts like ethics and morality have become fun mental exercises for me, as a lover of philosophy. But they have also become extremely uninteresting and unmotivating on a very basic level. As I learn who I am and what I am, this takes more and more precedence in my decision making process.
I find myself at an intriguing place where I intuitively feel my way through difficult problems. A place where I trust more and more the immediacy of perceptions, the holistic harmony of the universe, and the deep void my own unconscious.
Wandering in the woods, with no purpose but the wandering. Enjoying the motion of the hiking, the beauty of nature. Even enjoying -after a fashion – the terrifying exhilaration of being lost. Trusting one’s own fear, I have discovered, is a uniquely strange sensation. For what is there to fear when one is armed with one’s own heartbeat?
I have imagined what I might do if faced with horrors in the afterlife. What if gods and goddesses should sit in harsh judgment of me? What if ravenous spirits or raging devils should attack me? What if wicked magicks should be hurled at me? What if I find myself falling headfirst into the gaping maw of Hell or empty oblivion?
I am unimpressed by the threats of these scenarios. Not by doubting their possible reality. Not by seeking safety or security through clever spell, or the protection of benevolent beings. Not by adhering to a moral or ethical code that will grant me access through the gates of paradise.
I have only my heartbeat. And that I find is enough. There is a strength in it that defies explanation. Not by granting my power over anything at all. But by giving my strength to do what it is that I am meant to do. To be what I am meant to be. It is the only sort of strength that I need. Even when I am afraid. Even when I am bruised and bleeding. Even when I am uncertain. I always have my heartbeat.
I find myself walking a spiritual path amongst all the possible realms of existence, amongst all the possible gods and spirits and magics, yet without gods or spirits or magics. Trusting in the tiniest, humblest of things. Something that most people completely ignore and dismiss. Walking, lost in the woods of reality. Yet unconcerned.
I cannot explain it. But I am content. And I am free.
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