SPYCOGA cont...

In other moments I am serene as a Buddha, calm as a Hindu cow, light and free as that dancing plastic bag in American Beauty. Multi-colored butterflies flirt around my skull, the waning light at sunset streams through the forest and into my eyes, the bright golden spears of light fracture into an infinite kaleidoscopic pattern of rainbows. This is real. This is not the fantasy world I live in, the one we all live in. This is the winking of the earth, a nihilistic nudge from our Maker. Moments like this I am conscious of my breath, conscious of the weight of my bones and muscle being held down onto the earth by gravity’s pull, conscious of my organs pulsing inside my body, aware of the steady beating of my heart within my chest, the thump thump thump thump that meters out the beat of my life, cognizant of the wind caressing my skin, conscious of everything around me and inside me, conscious of the moon and stars and planets circling, the universe of which we all are part and no one is separate. This lie of separateness is the plague of humanity, this cosmic con that there is anything to lose or anything to gain when we are all husks of dust glinting in the breeze. This comforts me. Death comforts me. I do not long for death but the irrefutable truth of death is difficult to not admire. I can’t wait for the veil to be lifted on this world. I know there is a loving, benevolent force to the universe. If I didn’t I would become a criminal.