Stepping into the zone of freedom

 

The heady scent of wild flowers, shrubs and grasses under the open sky. Peace pouring from every chink of sky. Silence coded in the lullabies sung by a soft breeze. Free, frank and honest; nothing to hide. Ultimately esoteric. Primarily unselfconscious. An openness to life.

Freedom layered over the scented air. The unqualified, artistic oeuvre of mother nature, the paragon of ultimate virtue.

Brushstrokes of an esoteric poetic protest against cutting-edge modernism. A soft singsong opposition to the radicalizing, egocentric onslaught of the same age-old, decadent thoughts and ideologies masquerading as new-age panacea and illustrious propaganda. The new-age repackaged piousness peppering the same evil of the old, sidestepping love, beauty and truth.

One can just be aware of it—freedom—and inhale as much as one wants. Aware with the lucidity of the full moon in the heart of night. And with it will arrive, naturally, softness and acceptance of what one is; and respect and belief in what one can become.

O ye all those who carry heavy air around you (the ego itching with lice, nits, ticks and fleas of rampant desires and untamed fears), invigoration and lightness lie just a step away. It’s not in the ego-dog’s pursuit of meat pasties. It’s there lying on the tender blades of grass jeweled with free diamonds of dew.

Take a step and claim your bonus. For a change, turn your head away from the wobbly scramble, flimsy and wispy shine of futile fragilities, drop that contentious gaze and look into the delicate mist of the truth. Loose and vague abstractions get straightened to achieve an almost equal felicity with the ultimate truth.