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  • Writer's pictureAnnelisa MacBean

Alive so much it hurts

It is so tender here where I am now… unlike how I thought it would be. If I feel it all and stay embodied to the sensation of longing in my heart, to the emptiness in my throat and solar plexus, to the rawness, I realize nothing needs to be discounted, denied or repressed. These are not obstacles to my happiness, these are the curves and the hairpin turns to be navigated as I move along on my path.

I wondered if as I came more alive, I’d feel less, be more detached, rest as the witness, be neutral, brush it all off, let it all go, not care so much about this world and those around me. But now I am hearing something different, an invitation to “Care for it all. Care so much it hurts.”

I’m going to take the risk of allowing everything and everyone to matter. No more holding back. I can feel the union, the connection, and an intimate relatedness I’ve only mostly felt through plant medicines. What I see here and now is that this world presents the rare opportunity to experience love alive. This is the world where the paradox of separation anguish and union bliss defines existence and is the razor’s edge I walk every moment. I sense that I have taken birth here and have come here just to know this.

Come with me, come with me, all the way inside to the dwelling place of all feelings and sensations. Love is there. Allow love to find us both, to burn alongside us and between us and inside us. Let me see love burning through you and you see it burning through me. Toss your longing, your loneliness and your hopeless emptiness on the embers of my love for you and I will do the same.

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