We Tried to Warn You About the Drop

We hid our depths.

You’d never guess it, probably.

We never stop talking, we never stop finding the beauty in the mundane

We are frivolous and shallow

this is the dervish layer

this is where we protect ourselves.

If you get caught up in the minutia

Won’t get to the bones

won’t go deep, that’s where we stay.

If you argue with us about the way we see the world rather than take a step to meet us closer to where we live, then that’s all you will ever see.

All you will ever know.

Even isolated, losing touch with the shared reality, we are deep.

We know without a doubt. Most people are too.

But there is no time, the depths take time, diving takes time and recovery/surfacing takes time and recalibration too.

You get the existential bends if you do it too fast.

You hurt yourself, traumatize yourself

this motion is more fundamental and sacred

it takes time. It cannot be rushed.

You must stop.

Stop completely and let yourself sink, let yourself fall.

Go deep.

And the murk comes and goes and you descend, deeper

deeper

and the light fades then disappears

and the pressure of loss of control and orientation builds until it collapses in on itself

yet this must be endured.

This is the process of depth.

It is SLOW it is uncomfortable

it expects a lot of you.

And when you go as far as your equilibrium wants.

You settle there, weightless

in the imaginary light that exists in darkness

and your soul can still feel proximity.

Still knows where it lives, still remembers now.

More as a concept down, in here, a belief, a feeling

rather than an experience or center of experience.

And when you are deep, the bones still exist.

They are the sturdy foundation of your personal reality

the places you are strong

solid and wear the ravages of time and communication

the pain of existing

the bones know it all.

Communing with the bones

reminds you who you are.

Why you came to be at all.

You are not who you were designed to be

you are a creature of your own creation in spite of the noise above to the contrary.

Your resistance, your scars at striving to become yourself

exist here in the bones of the deep

they tell YOUR story.

They do not give a flying fuck what any other reality would say.

They are the cold, clear objective existence of you.

Separate from anything else.

It is lonely with the bones.

They let you observe them with sightless dark eyes

synesthesia of the soul

They do not tell you their story,

they do not speak

it is their job to record and exist

not interpret, not speak

They do not observe, they are.

And with them you can remember who you are also.

And the pull will begin, to live the life of sight and shared reality

the pull of the now,

you cannot live forever in the deep.

It is not a home.

The buoyancy will change and the ascension will begin of it’s own accord

again there is no path but through.

It will be a different uncomfortable

it will be a different pressure

this time too loud and too bright

too fast too busy.

But the deep you carry with you will protect you

let you exist in the eye of your very own lifestorm.

That you can choose how and when to leave

How much of yourself you take with you.

And that power is something no one can even determine no less take away.

When all is lost, go deep.