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[liminalapocalypse]

How we lose track of eternity when we're in love. _God

[liminalapocalypse]

proverbial air

The night sky is a banner over us; starless and storm-laden the air weighs on our lungs tonight as we all collectively agree to believe in what we breathe tonight. If a second chance lingers like the weight in the pause of silent anticipation of each next breath, then God is found in everyone of them. Even prayers are found in our breaths; etched along the insides of veins in red a crimson chord that binds us all to this earth as she bleeds, breeds, breathes us to life. Climbing that starry dynamo of my DNA finding solace among the moon and stars; looking down searching for the edges of the atlas; don't we all search more meaning in the collective moments to give meaning to the landmarked whirlwind of the busyness we call home.

Putting my faith in the eye of a storm; teach me how to surrender to the things I cannot control or find in my own reflection. That is the wisdom found in the salty ashes of stars' graves along the shores of Babylon.

[liminalapocalypse]

stoic mysticism Living in simultaneous peace and apocalypse; a subtle tumult of steady chaos that trickles into daily existence. The sparks of two worlds igniting in constant collision; to believe and to question in the same breath. The embers of Armageddon with your morning coffee, newsfeed, and the mundane of your routine. Finding God in the sunlight dancing between the branches in trees, and the subtle breeze that chills your sunburned skin; the goosebumps and your racing heart. I haven't been to church in over seven years, but I haven't felt more connected with the divine and miraculous hand of God in the world around me and in my life. How much of life requires the simplicity of being present in every moment; and not dependent on rituals, traditions, or some formulaic expressions of calculated devotion? The wild and unorthodox nature of a relationship with someone you cannot see or hold; that is entirely responsible for all of existence as everyone experiences it in their individual way. Learning what it means to be alive and to feel every bit of God within you and all around you.

[liminalapocalypse]

liminal realities

To be on both sides at once, walking a line of the waking world and the twilight of dreams. People are magnetized to polarity, anchored in either east or west; a simpler compartmentalization of processing the material world. Falling into orbit; spinning in the elliptical universe. Light doesn't live in a vacuum, it's only limited to space and not the time we use it for. Living in liminality and reticent bliss; so much of the present lacks the need for definition, meditative analysis, or contemplative dichotomization. The delicate balance of holding two opposing truths in one breath; without the dissonance or collision of positive and negative. The paradoxical nature of the magic that gravity keeps everything grounded yet birds and dragonflies choose when that law applies to them. An apocalypse of truth in its very nature is fluid and not a rigidly familiar marble god in the mausoleums of history.

[liminalapocalypse]

sacred contradictions

Everything in our known universe orbits something much bigger than itself. In elliptical paths towards a destination; a trajectory of forward cycles. Learning to find the center of where you are or where one belongs. Life is a revolution of consisting of a satellite of worlds around a falling star's motion. Life actually happens in cycles and cultivating a rhythm that synchronized with Earth's resonant pulse of what it means to be alive. I wonder if the sun itself is just another star in a constellation swimming in the Milky Way, finding the paradox of finite significance within this frame. How much God occupies these bones and animates this breath; the composition of stardust and debris of colliding photons confined within the dark spaces of a ribcage. If cycles are so bad then why does everything in existence live within the constraints of a cellular birth, life, and death entropic loop. The fruit comes from the seed that becomes a tree, and so these inorganic thoughts are just recycled soul reflections. We are all walking a fine line of liminal states of existence; between being alive and feeling alive. Moving forward is simply an act of falling into another orbit; cycling around a more meaningful pause.