I am my ego, and sometimes she is roaring. It feels great to have recognition, yet that is not the point. The point is love. I started writing in earnest six years ago, as a method of transformation. I discovered I had access to a deeper and wiser part of myself there. She is a part of me that I don’t want to lose touch with.
Yet there are times when she sits in the background while I strut around, basking in self-importance. She doesn’t say anything, but waits and watches. Her expression is contemplative. She knows self destruction is coming. She can wait. This ego roar cannot sustain itself long.
When my ego roars, it’s so loud I can’t hear myself. If you’ve ever heard the roar of a lion, you know the volume and range it commands. For that moment it is the only sound. You never forget it. This ego noise is similar, yet it leaves a sort of hollow ring. You may remember hearing it, but its meaning escapes you.
I am not here to roar, I’m here to love. There is a ripple effect. Eventually, everyone is breathing the same air and feeling the same love. That’s how it works. To focus on numbers is to become enmeshed in the illusion. We are not these bodies; they exist as a vehicle for our light.
We get caught up in the drama so easily here. It’s a constant chorus of better, worse, more, less, right, wrong, good, bad, beautiful, homely, popular and unpopular. The volume is deafening. It’s a great show and there are some who came only to watch. Not us. We are here to bring in some light. Our purpose is love.
In my dream (L.O.H.) several nights ago, there were none who shone any brighter. It was our combined light that formed a cushion of love. We easily supported each other. There were no illusions of self-importance – the One trumped all.
This is why we are here, and we can feel it when we hit that note. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.