Cutting the muse.

I’ve been stretched, pulled, and snapped back—rubberbanded in my heart. The beauty of this realization is that I’ve been the one doing it, both knowingly and unknowingly, intentionally and accidentally. As a Twin Flame, someone awake to her fullest self, I know that romantic love has been my awakening. It was through relationships that LOVE blinked open the true eyes of my consciousness.

This is who I AM.

I’ve learned this truth by being the clay pot. Feel this with me: I feel my own hands on the clay pot, the one urgently tossing it to the ground, as I feel myself shatter into pieces. My life's calling is to articulate that never-ending truth - but in the most embodied way. It's sexy, isn't it? Scary. Forbidden. Bracing for impact, but also desiring the crash. I love my calling - it's so unknown. Forbidden. Elite. Bold.

See what I mean? When you embody everything, you embody everything. Anyway, I digress.

Today in meditation, I received the message: “cut the muse.” There’s an energy in my life that stimulates my every level. The arousal it evokes is rich, deep, and cathartic - I’ve caught myself yearning, desiring, and outsourcing my focus and attention toward it. It's the game of... almost having. Luscious. However, desire manifests desiring. I am satisfied, so, I live from a place of having all of my desires. It's not abdicating experience - it's fully riding the waves of each pulse, heartbeat, spark.

She dances. I dance. I am she. I feel as though I dance around a fire and then... become part of it? 

The more I dance, the more my muse… muses. Love becomes a swirling, twirling vortex of passion and intensity, firing the cannons of my heart. And then, I’m no longer me. I’m on the edge of living the dream but with a sense of separateness. I lose myself. Yet, isn’t separation inherent to unity? All is all is all is all - so it's the spark of sensation that pulls apart in search of coming together. I get it. I feel it.

It’s the dance of power that tugs and pulls. It feels so damn good. climax, amrite? What's so spiritual about being human anyway. Sensation. Experience. Tension & Release. That's what God did when he separated the light from the dark and that's when I fell away from my man... and desired him all the more.

Does my dance fuel the muse, or does the muse inspire my dance?

So, I’m cutting the muse. How can I preach self-sovereignty if my focus is on the reflection—the object of my affection? If my expression depends on another, then I’m not free. I’m tethered. And there lies the crux, right? This is foreplay for the soul. Learning to integrate massive soul energies into the body takes vast devotion, integrity, and most effortlessly... compassion. Shh, it is finished. Simply receive. 

It’s already within you. That pulse, that love, that fire, the raw intensity of life—it’s all yours. The thing that beats in your chest, arousing every cell, is bliss. It’s freedom. It’s the fulfillment you thought chasing the muse would bring. It’s always been in you. The release, the true orgasm, comes when you let go. 

Letting go prunes your life into the beautiful rosebush it’s meant to be. 
Intentionally triggering abandonment - for... Love.
Sacrificing the son.
Cutting ties. 
Rebirth.