WEEKLY WTF
02-24-25 Edition
Let It
Pop Goes the Wee Soul
The Void
There is an intimacy to pain
if you let it take you.
If you let it replace your blood with its acidic mercurial flow.
It’s an intimacy of state as opposed to identity.
It doesn’t give a shit about your majestic story-
if you let it reign.
Pain can feel right,
somehow right,
In its dark and dizzy depths you feel something
familiar.
It’s just you, alone,
unclothed of your story
naked yet bold
you let it consume
what you previously thought
was you.
It feels appropriate, like: finally- I’m fucking real
Finally. Fucking. Real.
As the story you were falls away
falling
falling
falling
and falling still.
The great fall-
limbs flailing
bloody and broken fingernails grasping for purchase against the jagged walls of what was.
Eventually it becomes too much.
Your fingers are bloody stumps and your energy is exhausted.
You finally give up
and you stop
resisting the fall.
Then suddenly, impossibly, the void is filled
with light.
You realize it always was
it’s just that your eyes were hitherto clinched shut to avoid
the truth.
The stomach flipping sensation of falling ceases
and you realize you weren’t actually falling
In fact
you never moved at all
not a bit
it is the universe that has been speeding by your motionless form.
Stuck, as you were,
in an eddy of grief.
Your vertigo vanishes
by becoming vertical.
The great precipice was an illusion because you were simply upside down,
the sky underfoot.
Your relief is so profound that you want to do it again
to find that pain for the singular purpose of radically accepting it-
ejaculating resistance for the
ultimate release.
But it’s no longer there
it cannot be found
your sudden acceptance
was too thorough.
Somehow, you’ve transmuted the mercury of pain and made it soluble.
Like lead turned to gold it is unrecognizable.
You have incorporated it with the alchemy
of acceptance.
Now you know-
momentum is not the true nature of falling.
To cling and be stuck is to fall forcing life to flow around you as water in a stream parts for a boulder.
But the water of life is both
persistent
and patient.
Now you know-
resistance
is the true nature of suffering.
So you await the next fall
relaxed
already ready- to let go.
When you’ve accepted the ultimate hurt
nothing ever again can hurt you…
so you surmise.
Becoming empty
you seem immune
to the void.
You willingly embrace and become the void and you welcome all things-
the wonderful things
the terrible things
all the things
to now fall into you.
The empty void is not empty.
It is awake.
There is no need to expend effort in being buoyant-
if you become the stream itself.
Gurgling, tumbling, foaming
but always with the flow.
Nothing is what we think it is.
Everything is what we think it is.
Cease thinking and see.
Cease becoming and “Be”.
Stop resisting to be free.
Dedicated to Miracle Maisie Mae
Toodaloo
