The Compassionate Princess

This story was written as a wedding gift for my dearly beloved friends and Soul Kin Harbeen Arora and Vinay Rai. It is a token of Gratitude for their Presence here on Earth and the radiance they share with the world around them 💖

It is part of my Enlightening Stories, which I have been writing for the last 2 years and have now started to also write for whoever chooses a personalised work of art and insight.

In Gratitude and Love 💖 and with Harbeen and Vinay's blessing, I share it here with you, dear One. May it bring joy and love to your heart also, as it has brought to ours 🙏

It was not unforeseen that she might be sitting at this early hour of dawn underneath the bodhi tree which stood majestically in the most secluded area of the garden at the back of the house, as it was her favourite place to be in simple and silent communion with herself.

So that is where Sarasvati found her this particular morning. 

Not wanting to disturb her as she chanted her sacred mantras, her eyes closed, her delicate face radiant with contentment, Sarasvati just stood silently, waiting, in peaceful reverence.

Shyla had always been special. A purely innocent child that bore wisdom beyond her age, she had grown into an exemplary young woman with a heart so big it could encompass infinite universes. 

What was most striking about her, was her compassion. She saw each and every human being as equally valuable and her quest was invariably that of the Light within, where no level of Darkness could taint her perception.

In fact, it was not only human beings that she saw as equally valuable, but all that existed, be it a life form or an apparently inanimate thing - as Shyla was intrinsically aware that even within an inanimate clump of matter there are fragments of life force moving its molecules into shape and shift according to whichever way energy is meant to serve each sentient being’s purpose. 

She was well aware of the need to cultivate herself as much in the inner arts of self-wisdom as in the knowledgeable teachings of the world around her, which made each new discovery a pleasure for her.

She was tireless in her determination to improve each day and her drive to succeed was unwavering - though Shyla’s concept of success would metamorphose as she grew older, gaining new depth and significance of a much vaster nature.

Despite never having known lack of any sort, she had a deep understanding of it and felt drawn to kindness and generosity, as it did not make sense to her not to bestow her bounty on those who did not have it within their experiences.

And she had discovered possibly the most relevant thing about people. Shyla had discovered that for every dark-hearted person, there were at least a 1000 kind ones and that even the ones who weren’t had that intrinsic potential. But above all, she knew that the dark-hearted ones played as important a role in the enigmatic intricacies of life in physical form, as the people who were labelled as good, for if there were not the reverse, how could one ever realise the whole of oneself?

It was still hard to grasp fully, but Shyla knew that all is well in all of creation, despite the games of duality that are played out in this reality. She knew that ultimately, there was no damnation nor salvation as each one was an expression of God, a mere droplet as authentic as the ocean of pure consciousness itself. 

This is why, whenever she felt that her emotions were amiss, trying to draw her into a judgemental abyss, Shyla would simply pause, take her leave, wherever she may be, breathe and contemplate, recite her sacred mantras, connect with her beloved Guru, who in turn connected her to her own inner Guru and reestablish the balance of equanimity within herself.

One could say that this was one such moment, as lately Shyla had been challenged with quite a few misunderstandings which she chose not to feed with blame, shame or guilt but rather to dispel and deliver to Divine Providence for transmutation in the pool of eternal love.

Sarasvati had precisely come to let her know that everything was ready for the departure to her Guru’s Ashram, where she intended to spend a few days free from the speedy entanglement of the world at large. But since Shyla was already experiencing the Ashram within, there was no rush and no need to interrupt her reverent contemplation.

Once Shyla had stopped chanting and had remained in silent breathing for what seemed to be a long while but had really been only a quarter of an hour - such is the volatility of time expanded by pure awareness - Sarasvati was able to tap her on her shoulder ever so gently. Shyla turned her radiant eyes towards Sarasvati and they both smiled at each other. There was no need for words.

Shyla got up and got ready to depart, for everything else had been taken care of for her. She had possibly done much karmic liberation in other lifetimes already, as in this one she had been born as a princess - not literally, as there was no longer a monarchy in India - but in actual practice there was not much of a difference in the whole setup of her current lifetime between being a princess or not. And not a moment passed where she did not feel absolutely grateful for her good fortune. Grateful to the point of overflowing contentment, that in turn touched each heart she came across with a delicate wand flutter of knowingness that they too could live fulfilled.

There was within Shyla’s consciousness no wondering about deservability or self-worth. She fully accepted her bountiful fate, embracing it as naturally as it had been bestowed upon her. 

Yet, Shyla knew that with great wealth comes great responsibility. She had always known this, even as a child - thus her profound sense of compassion and determined firmness to stay amidst the light of love always, no matter where, no matter what.

She had been to her Guru’s Ashram many times. However this time Shyla sensed something different. An anticipation. A mild excitement. Something…

Sarasvati, her faithful companion, was right beside her. She always accompanied Shyla everywhere she went and was by now no longer just a maid, but a very good friend as well. They shared everything with each other and yet the sense of respect had never disappeared. There was an invisible hierarchy that was never breached, both Shyla and Sarasvati knowing their place, but never allowing this distance to interfere with their closeness of heart, always allowing the love and trust between them to grow further and further, unbounded. 

Once they arrived at the Ashram they both went their separate ways, each one enjoying the Divine connection in their own way, which left Shyla alone, fully available to absorb the magical bliss she felt envelop her whenever she came here. 

There was this one particular place she loved to seek refuge in, a small temple hidden down in the valley, in the far recesses of the Ashram and which no one ever seemed to visit at the same time as herself, meaning she could indulge in the silent solitude of this sacred dwelling and just let the light of God pour over her, fill her, engulf her in such a delightful rapture of surrender that she would forget who she was, what she was and just experience becoming nothing but One. Shyla could spend hours or minutes in this place and yet the effect was always the same.

Lately she found herself craving this feeling more and more so her visits to the Ashram had become increasingly frequent and her very visible glow became brighter and brighter as the diamond of her true nature was polished to perfection, one breath at a time.

Ah perfection! She had sought it so avidly! And now it was evidently already there, as it always had been - though completely foreign to her prior concept of it. Perfection. All was so.

The heavy gong chiming against the open sky, reminded Shyla it was time for Satsang with her most cherished Guruji. She thanked the temple with her hands clasped in front of her heart, then bringing them up to her mouth and opening her arms wide up in receptive gratitude, backed up always facing the shrine and keeping her eyes on the candle that burnt right underneath a host of Hindu deities representing the balanced bounty of existence and once she was out, turned towards the Ashram’s main Temple and leapt up the hill like a gleeful child going to a most anticipated celebration.

Once there, she found a space right in the front row and sat, almost face to face with her Guruji, who smiled at her as a father smiles at his child, welcoming her with the warmest heart glowing through his starlit eyes. 

Time stopped for Shyla. She felt as if she were the only one there, not in the least bothered by the immense crowd that had gathered around the Guruji today. 

His wisdom reminded her of her own, her true nature being that which he so eloquently found ways to express. It was like listening to an orchestra with a choir of angels all tuned into the finest frequency - one that made the music of the spheres play its melody in every single heart that stopped to listen.

When the moment eventually came for her to go and receive her blessing from the Master, she rose to her feet and walked towards him, hands in prayer, head slightly bowed, so profound was her reverence. She kneeled before him and he placed his hand on her head. 

At that moment there was a flash of awareness, like lightning coursing through her entire body and she saw herself ushering an endless row of women through an open doorway that was ajar with light. And they kept on coming one after the other, so many she could not count them until in an instant there was a man in her vision, one single man who took her hand and walked her through the doorway as well. They all disappeared into the light and her heart felt so complete, so fulfilled, that there was nothing else. Just this profound feeling of fulfilment.

Shyla looked up at her beloved Guruji who once again smiled at her knowingly and all she wanted to do was embrace him. So grateful did she feel. So absolutely grateful. He felt her embrace, as it poured out from her teary eyes and they both knew her life was about to change into the new now she had been preparing for.

She was shaken to the core. Moved so deeply that thought was an impossible feat at this moment. So she simply sat, taking her place once again in the front row and closed her eyes, absorbing the blessing she had just received and which was not yet available for cognitive understanding, though completely available for intuitive awareness.

It felt like layers of old identities were collapsing into a void of new as of yet unknown landscape. As if the clouds of implosion were giving way to a fertile ground of planted seeds that were now being infused with the impulse of birth, gaining momentum to burst through the ground of fresh potentials and leap up into the open vastness of experience, blessed by the hand of Love.

Shyla lost track of everything going on around her and just let this implosion happen of its own accord, relinquishing any need to be in control. 

Fortunately she had been one of the first to go up to the Master and many more were to follow, so there was really nothing to do but to surrender to her own timelessness.

Towards the end of what seemed to be an endless stream of devotees walking up to their Guruji, Shyla felt impelled to open her eyes and the first thing she saw was the man she had seen in her vision only instants - hours maybe - before. 

He himself was looking at her also and their eyes locked in an inexplicable recognition that saw beyond form and touched the infinity of who they truly were.

They didn’t know in that first communion that they were to be wedded by their very beloved Guruji at a date soon to come. Soon for the immediate realm of the Divine  - within a few years’ time on the chronology of Human existence. However they knew at a level that escapes logical reasoning and that knowingness brought an unexplicable peace to their hearts, for it was done.

You see, Ishir had also had a vision. Not today, but some time prior to this encounter. And in his vision he had seen a great light flash before him, so intense it was almost blinding, but he could not take his eyes away from it for he sensed something was about to happen. And it did. From that light emerged the most beautiful goddess-like woman. She was indescribably powerful in her gentleness, a sweet smile poised on her elegantly rich lips, her skin glowing with purity, her eyes pouring out love so strongly it could ignite the whole world with one look. Her long dark hair flowed down her back softly caressing the air around her and her steps were so delicate, she seemed to be walking on thin air. She was wearing a shimmering blue and white gown that seemed to be woven out of stardust and her aura was that of crystalline compassion. 

Ishir knew that somehow this goddess-like woman actually existed and that they would find each other at the right moment, at the right place.

And now here she was. Sitting right there before him. As divinely enlightened as he had been shown. There was absolutely no doubt that this was the woman of his vision. 

Shyla felt impelled to stand up as Ishir walked towards her, never unlocking their eyes from each other’s enchantment. 

Once Ishir was standing before her, just a few feet in-between them, they naturally held each other’s hands and just stood there in mutual acknowledgement. The strength emanating from this predestined encounter was radiating such a powerful Presence that the people around them started facing their way and soon enough there was a gigantic circle of spectators all around them, which both Shyla and Ishir were totally unaware of.

Everyone was receiving the gift of their reunion - a blessing of Love undefinable in any human terms.

Eventually Ishir and Shyla embraced. An embrace that made each one’s heart shudder with an explosion of such intensity that it burst down the walls and allowed all of those who were willing, to receive their next level of evolution on the pathway of harmony - feminine and masculine merging into the unity of all that Is, going beyond the illusionary veil of separation, into the realm of oneness within.

Someone amongst the crowd started clapping, such was the joy he felt infusing his cells and in the next instant everyone was clapping and cheering, embracing each other, tears streaming from grateful eyes, hearts overflowing with something they had never felt before. Love was the Queen and everyone was bowing to her.

The commotion snapped Shyla and Ishir out of their entranced embrace and they smiled and then laughed and cried also the grateful tears of bliss and soon they were dancing, music was playing, bhajans were being chanted and not even the people in the back who had no idea of what was going on, were spared from the intense explosion of Love that had just erupted in their Guruji’s temple.

This epic encounter was to be spoken of throughout the ages, becoming a part of Indian folklore, passed on from parents to children who then told the beautiful story to their own and on and on, replicating the wave of True Love in billions of hearts the world over, gently but surely transforming consciousness on Earth and producing the peaceful balance of harmonious cooperation amongst all. That which had once been only a farfetched dream was now happening one heartbeat at a time.

If you'd like your own Enlightening Story crafted for you, find out more about the Enlightening Stories HERE 

https://www.inpassioncoaching.com/

Simplesmente Respira: Direto 15 - Nova Energia na tua Nova Terra

Inteireza

 

“Não há outro”. Estas palavras tornavam-se gradualmente evidentes na sua consciência, sussurrando-se a si mesmas.

Aria deleitava-se, deitada sobre as folhas secas debaixo da gigantesca árvore de pecan que crescia no pedaço de terra a que chamava de lar. As folhas delicadas dos ramos que espiralavam em escadaria rumo ao céu, recebiam da suave brisa a mais leve carícia e Aria deixou-se embalar, até cair num estado de consciência expandida onde de um momento para o outro se viu no preciso início de toda esta sua relação com o planeta Terra.

Ainda um ser etéreo, um Anjo cuja realidade era apenas a eternidade, Ela (utilizaremos aqui o Ela como poderíamos igualmente utilizar o Ele) sentia-se entusiasmada, com um desejo enorme de experimentar algo completamente novo. Um mundo onde Ela própria seria apenas uma parte de si mesma, muitas partes, aliás. Partes que não se lembrariam que eram apenas Um e que iriam explorar os limites desconhecidos do possível. Brincando com a energia de formas nunca antes imaginadas. Revertendo a consciência em toda a sorte de reflexos opostos. Experiências para expandir. Experiências simplesmente por poder experienciar. 

De início fora encantador, nunca completamente fixa em forma física, nunca demasiado longe da lembrança do Um que Ela era… Até que caiu. Aria sentiu-se caída da Graça desta experimentação inocente, caída num esquecimento completo. 

E eis que se tornou difícil. Sentia-se confinada. Restringida. Sufocada. Tentou alcançar algo que Ela sabia Ser ainda que já não conseguisse defini-lo, mas nada veio em seu auxílio. Nada veio remover Aria desta densidade. Era como se estivesse sob um feitiço que a impedia de voar para dentro e para fora desta realidade, que a impedia de flutuar em alegria e banhar-se de admiração. 

O corpo tornou-se um castigo. Os outros já não conseguiam vê-la como docemente inocente e amável. Tal como ela não conseguia ver-se a si mesma. 

A vítima emergiu então, nascida da sua sensação de ter sido abandonada por alguém que ela não conseguia identificar mas que tinha a perceção de ser todo-poderoso e eventualmente capaz de a salvar. Teve, por sua vez, que criar o abusador. Aquele que parecia mais forte e menos vulnerável à dor da vítima. Talvez ao ver este Pequeno Eu Humano a ser abusado, o Salvador viesse. E assim Aria começou também a fazer esse papel de Salvador, para poder saber da sua possibilidade até que ele viesse mesmo salvá-la. Assim ansiava ela. 

Tudo se ía alinhando ao serviço da sua realidade separada, para que ela pudesse vê-la ao seu redor e acreditar que esta era a única verdade existente. 

A raiva tornou-se uma boa amiga e a culpa, a vergonha e a culpabilização depressa vieram juntar-se-lhe. O desespero, a impotência, o desânimo, a frustração, a angústia e a seu tempo a fúria, o ódio e a vingança todos nasceram do solo fértil do abandono e parecia não haver fim para o sofrimento como forma natural de vida. 

Aria encontrara muitas avenidas de fuga para sair da consciência do seu próprio corpo e assim poder adormecer um pouco a dor. Mantinha as suas células num limbo de sobrevivência moribundo, nunca demasiado próxima, para não se lembrar… Ainda não. Ser a vítima tornara-se extremamente sedutor. 

Isto foi ocorrendo ao largo de muitas vidas, ainda que em alguns pontos cruciais, Aria tivesse tocado no seu Ser inteiro, sentindo-se impelida a reagrupar o que havia ficado disperso. Estes momentos foram todavia passageiros e imprecisos, ficando rapidamente submersos na areia movediça da separação para dar lugar a mais uma quantidade indeterminada de experiência de escassez. 

Por vezes, Aria passara a maior parte de uma vida na beatitude de Deus, sentido-o como uma força externa, muito raramente reconhecido como uma parte de si mesma. Estas expressões de vida abençoadas criaram por sua vez uma ânsia. E esta ânsia tornara-se numa busca. E esta busca tornara-se num labirinto de poços sem fundo e becos sem saída. E ela desenvolvera um medo de falhar. Uma certa impressão de estar a fazer algo de errado… Porque senão já teria com certeza encontrado o que buscava e poderia estar agora completamente tranquila. 

Aria não tinha noção que não existia a possibilidade de falha. Como é que pode falhar ser o que já se é?

Os espelhos esquivos do que ela não era, mantinham Aria entretida na crença de poder fingir-se algo distinto de si mesma para sempre. Porém, não era isto que queria. Disso tinha a certeza. 

Agora Aria chegara ao ponto de apenas querer descansar. Não por uns instantes passageiros. Queria algo que ficasse com ela, nela. Uma paz que fosse infindável e uma experiência que pudesse brotar dessa paz. O que significava, por outras palavras, que o que ela queria mesmo era reunir-se. 

O Um que houvera sido esquecido estava a olhar para ela, para a perceção separada de quem ela era, dando-lhe as boas vindas, sorrindo amorosamente, completamente ciente da dor por que ela passara, honrando-a na totalidade e convidando-a a entrar no Um sem deixar nada para trás. Tudo o que Aria tivera medo de admitir, revelar, perdoar… Tudo isso era convidado a regressar ao Um e era recebido com gratidão. 

De repente Aria via-se cristalizada exatamente no meio. Entre esta Unidade compassiva que era inteira e as multidões de pequenas figuras sofredoras que ela criara, algumas miseráveis, outras cheias de desdém, algumas tão dormentes com a dor que nem sequer se conseguiam mover ou falar… E Aria deu-se conta que tudo isto era ela mas que ainda assim nada era totalmente aceite. Ela era a própria separação. Era a névoa de fumo entre ela e ela mesma. 

Como poderia ela trazer-se de volta, toda, inteira?

Como é que este Eu que tinha estado em negação de parte da sombra e de parte da luz poderia parar de negar?

Como poderia tudo isto terminar, de uma vez por todas?

E tornou-se claro que por mais que ela compreendesse, chegara a um ponto em que nenhum entendimento poderia romper a separação. 

Aceitação.

Tudo isto era ela. Não havia partes. Não havia lados. Não havia mais nada. E ela não podia errar simplesmente porque não havia nada para falhar!

Aceitação.

A incandescência que brilhava de um lado era a mesma Essência da sombra que gritava do outro, e ela era tudo isto.

A decisão de mergulhar nesta experiência na Terra não fora tomada à sua revelia e sem o seu consentimento ou na sua ausência. De todo. O Um que Ela era escolhera e Aria era intrínseca a este Um.

Não havia quem pudesse ser culpabilizado. Nem a quem pedir justificações. Não havia quem julgar. Ninguém que estivesse fora de si mesma criara todas as suas experiências. Ela era a responsável por ter permitido tudo o que ocorrera, por ter mergulhado e por ter parecido perder-se em tudo isso.

Aceitação.

Ela era responsável por ter expandido o Universo de possibilidades para além de si mesmo e por realçar a sua própria magnificência numa proporção tão ampla que agora tinha dificuldade em reconhecer-se.

Claro! Ela nunca se conhecera assim. Mesmo lá atrás, quando era um Anjo a preparar-se com entusiasmo para descobrir a vida em forma física! O Um para o qual ela estava agora a retornar evoluíra e era agora um novo Um como consequência de todas as experiências vividas do outro lado da fumaça.

Ela não podia voltar a ser o Um que existira antes da sua vinda para a Terra e não podia conhecer no que se tinha tornado sem entrar de novo no Um e descobri-lo - descobrir-se a si mesma. 

Nada tinha corrido mal!

Aceitação. 

“Não há outro”. Sim. Aria estava agora ciente.

Num ápice de entrega total, a Aria do agora deixou de empurrar os lados para fora ao mesmo tempo que segurava o passado de si mesma… largou tudo e implodiu. Nada. Ninguém. Tudo. 

Aceitação suprema. 

O chão húmido e macio debaixo de si, a árvore, o céu e ela. Não havia diferença. E no entanto era tudo diferente. 

Não há outro.

Afinal dissolver-se não tinha sido assim tão difícil. E não era apenas indolor mas também perfeitamente libertador. O que parecia bastante óbvio neste momento… Como é que ela se tinha forçado a acreditar que perderia algo quando tudo o que havia para ser encontrado estava exatamente onde o deixar ir era permitido?

Sentiu as gargalhadas a borbulhar-lhe pela barriga acima e aceitou que não importava! Não  importava para nada! 

O riso tornou-se incontido e rebentou em lágrimas conforme o seu coração cresceu para o infinito e a sua Mente ficou vazia. Silenciosa.

O silêncio tornou-se tão imenso que quedou e transmutou simultaneamente tudo o que Aria soubera ser. Até mesmo o seu riso podia coexistir no seio deste silêncio.

Agora restava apenas a sua inteireza.

Entirety

 “There is no other.” These words kept on whispering. Tumbling into her awareness.

Aria was lying on the dry leaves beneath a gigantic pecan nut tree that grew on the piece of land she called home. The delicate leaves of the branches that created a woven staircase up into the sky, were lightly stroked by an almost imperceptible breeze and Aria was gently lulled into a deeper state of consciousness where she suddenly found herself at the very beginning of her relationship with Earth.

Still an ethereal being, an Angel whose reality was only eternity, She (we will use She as we could use He) felt an excitement, a huge desire to experience something completely new. A world where She herself could become only a part, many parts in fact, parts that did not remember they were just One, and go out and explore the far edges of possibility. Playing with energy in ways never imagined. Reversing consciousness into all sorts of opposite reflexions. Experience for the sake of expansion. Experience for the sake of experience.

At first it had been enchanting, not completely fixed in form, never too far from remembering the One that She was… Until She fell. Aria felt herself falling from this Grace of innocent experimentation into real oblivion and then it became hard. She felt confined. Restricted. Stifled. She tried to reach out to something She knew she was but could no longer define, but nothing came to her assistance. Nothing took Aria out of this heaviness. It was like a spell had been cast upon her and she was no longer capable of flying in and out, of floating in joy and bathing in amazement. 

The body became like a punishment. Others could no longer see her as sweetly innocent, all loving and kind. Just as she could no longer see herself.

The victim was born from her sense of having been abandoned by someone she could not identify but that she perceived to be almighty and eventually capable of saving her and so she had to create the abuser as well. The one that seemed stronger so as not to feel the pain of the victim. Maybe in seeing this Small Human Self being abused, the Saviour would come. And so she started playing out the Saviour role too, just to know of its possibility until it actually came to her rescue. She wished.

Everything kept on falling into place to serve her reality of separation, so that she could see it everywhere and believe this to be the only truth of her existence.

Anger became a good friend and then guilt, shame and blame came to join it. Despair, helplessness, hopelessness, frustration, anguish and in due course rage, hatred and vengefulness, all sprung up from the ground of abandonment and there seemed to be no end to suffering as a natural way of life.

Aria had found many avenues to escape the awareness of her body in order to numb the pain down, keeping her cells in a near death stew of survival but not coming too close into them so as not to remember… Not yet. It had become extremely seductive to be the victim.

This went on and on for many many lifetimes, though at some crucial points Aria had touched her whole Self and been drawn to reassemble what had become dispersed. These moments had, however, been fleeting and imprecise, quickly getting submerged into the quicksand of separation for an undetermined number of experiences in lack.

Sometimes, Aria had spent most of a lifetime in the bliss of God, mostly perceived as an external force, rarely acknowledged as a part of herself. These expressions of being blessed had filled her with a longing. And this longing had become a search. And this search had become a quagmire of pitfalls and dead ends. And she had developed a fear of failure. A kind of sense that she must be doing something wrong because otherwise she would have already found that which she was seeking and relaxed into it.

Aria was not aware that it was impossible to fail. How does one fail to be what one already is?

The elusive mirrors of what she was not, kept Aria entertained in the belief that she could feign being something other than herself forever. And yet she did not want this at all.

Now Aria was at a point where all she wanted was to rest. Not just for a while. She wanted something that would stay with her. A peace that was unending and an experience that could evolve from it. Which in other words meant that all she wanted was reunion. 

The One that had been forgotten was looking at her, the separate perception of her, welcoming, smiling lovingly, fully aware of the pain she had been through, honouring it completely and inviting her to walk into the One without leaving anything behind. All of that which Aria had been afraid to admit, reveal, forgive… All of it was invited in and received with gratitude. 

Aria now saw herself crystallised in-between this compassionate Oneness that was whole and the multitudes of suffering small figures of her, some wretched, some scowling, some so numb with pain they could not even move or speak… And she realised it was all her but none was fully accepted. She was the separation. She was the smoke screen between her and herself. 

How could she bring her entire Self back together again then?

How could this “I” that had been denying part of darkness and part of light, stop denying?

How could it be done, once and for all?

And it became clear that no matter how much she understood, there came a point where no understanding could breach the gap.

Acceptance. 

It was all her. There were no parts. There were no sides. There was nothing else. And she could not go wrong simply because there was nothing to fail! 

Acceptance.

The radiance glowing over to one side was the very essence of the darkness screaming to the other side and she was all of it.

It had not been decided that this Earth experience would be had despite her, without her consent, in her absence. Absolutely not. The One that She was had chosen and Aria was intrinsic to that One.

There was no one to blame. No one to ask for justification. No one to judge. No one outside of herself had created all of her experiences. She was responsible for having allowed it all, having dived into it all, having seemed to get lost in it all. 

Acceptance. 

She was responsible for expanding the Universe of possibilities beyond itself and enhancing her magnificence to proportions she now found hard to acknowledge. 

Of course! She had not known herself to be this. Even back then, when she was an Angel getting ready to excitedly discover life in physical form! The One that she was now stepping back into had evolved into a new One as a consequence of all of the experiences lived on the other side of the smoke screen. 

She could not go back to being the One she had been before existing on Earth and she could not know who she had become without stepping into the One all over again and discovering it - Herself.

Nothing had gone wrong!

Acceptance.

“There is no other”. Yes.

Aria now realised. 

In a bout of complete surrender, the Aria of now let go of pushing the sides away whilst also holding onto the past of herself… She let go of everything and just imploded. Nothing. No one. All.

Complete acceptance.

The soft moist ground, the tree, the sky above it and herself. There was no difference. And yet it was all different.

There is no other.

Dissolving was not that hard after all. And it was not only painless but absolutely liberating. Which seemed pretty obvious in this moment… How could she have made herself believe she would lose something when all there was to be found lay exactly where the letting go was allowed? 

She felt laughter bubbling up from her belly as she accepted that it didn’t matter! It didn’t matter at all! Her laughter grew and burst out into tears as her heart grew into infinity and her Mind went blank. Silent. 

The Silence became so strong, it simultaneously paused and transmuted whatever Aria had known herself to be and even her laughter could dwell in it.

Now, all there was, was her entirety.