The Winds Of Rebellion: Love’s Uprising.
The winds of rebellion whisper of a great uprising. There is a stirring in the celestial spheres.
Peace is silently weaving its threads of compassion so deep that greed, fear and intolerance are transforming into light so pure as to render hatred powerless. Can you feel it?
This rebellion requires no force, no opposition, and no struggle. This is a revolution of Truth. Truth requires not your belief, your agreement, nor your acceptance. Truth belongs neither to you nor me, nor to any church, creed or sect. Truth is master unto itself. Truth rules with the lightest touch — real power requires no might.
Love is truth’s agent of deconstruction. She has slipped by the gatekeepers, her sheer-blue ethereal mists weaving their way down our streets, into our homes and into our hearts. Love has quietly permeated and saturated the air we now breathe. She needs not your effort nor action — only breath.
The breath you breathe in this moment and the next moment and the one after that rings with the call of truth. Can you hear it?
The masters of war, who have ruled this world with terror and subtle intimidation meant to foster loyalty to conformity, sense love’s gentle touch upon their armor-laden shoulders. They tremble. They despise the light of truth. They cringe and recoil, digging faster and deeper, attempting to fortify their stronghold.
What appears as an increase in vehemence and brutality is just the death cries of these masters of war. Fatally wounded, they are dying, and they know it. Love commands: “Step into the light, or be gone!”
Despise not the masters of war. They are you and they are me. They are our desires to be right, and our struggle for influence. They are our denials, illusions and fears. The light of truth welcomes even the darkest lurking shadows. Love excludes nothing. Truth asks only that you look within.
She simply requests your willingness to see the verity of what you actually are: the wicked and the moral, the sinful and the righteous. Each time we incorporate a shadow aspect of ourselves, the masters of war are weakened. A piece of their armor falls to the ground, and is irreparably shattered. Can you drop your own armor?
This revolution asks so little of us. Simply feel love’s tender embrace, and allow yourself to be held. Let go of your opinions, beliefs and principles. Let love peel away the layers of your sticky misconceptions, and brush aside the thick cobwebs of your dreams. Let love open your eyes. Awaken to the unfamiliar, fresh and wondrous.
Can you find the willingness to sail into the mystery of the unknown?
Love will not fail you. Give her all of your heart; keep no dark crumb for yourself. With gratitude she receives each gift of pain, fear and confusion. Each one she holds, tenderly, lovingly, until transformed into a seed of pure white light.
Let the winds of rebellion blow. Let the seeds of love and light scatter across the land. Let the uprising commence.