It is often that I felt as if I were walking through a labyrinth of dreams, trying to hold on to my own, while the reality around me shifted in the rearranging of the paradigms that might compose truth. What was happening one moment became a different scenario in the next as if life itself had moved into freeform expressionism. In the end, as the dust settles, you count your losses and your gains and once again come to realize that there is only GOD, and that this reality is only a place where you pass through to experience something very special and undefined. And if you persevere, you learn the wisdom that the only path to follow is the one with Heart. So we learn to once again pick ourselves up and keep walking through the grass.
Tomorrow is just a short distance down the road.
In my awakening I realize that I have somehow survived a holocaust of major proportions. I have watched from the mists as those who could not see my heart make in their own little minds a circus of the sacredness of my alters, where so many had come to be healed, and be brought back home. I have watched as they ridiculed my spirituality, mocking me with my own words. Then in the midst of the chaos, I had a memory that it was not the first time this had happened, and I was not the only one. So I returned to my desert hills and have spent many months walking with the ancient spirits who also call this place home, emptying my Heart of the poison born of great pain.