Human Dynamics

Everyone is The One (An Essay)

The idea that there’s a ‘right’ one implies there could ever be a ‘wrong’ one.

Impossible.

Every being you’re dancing with is the ‘right’ one.

The most accurate and divinely prescribed one.

For precisely where you are.

Just like every moment of life.

The current moment / relationship / circumstance / configuration and all that it’s comprised of, contains exactly what’s required of / for you to clear each board as the next board takes its place.

The players may change but this truth remains the same in the customized game created solely by you.

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No Reassurance (An Essay)

Him: “I know you’ll never give me reassurance.”

And why would I ever need to?

What IS speaks for itself.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

He spoke of wanting something more solid.

Saying he knows he can’t ask or expect that of me.

And yet…

I’m as solid as can be (energetically).

He can always count on ME.

But his human wanted something concrete.

In the physical world of make-believe.

Where nothing is solid.

Where security can’t be found.

Not in a thing.

Not in another.

Just in the space one cannot claim.

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Walkie Talkie (An Essay)

“You’re the only person I know who walks their talk. Completely.”

The loveliest thing to hear.

And the result of doing the work.

Not just sometimes.

All the time.

With everything and everyone.

I’m relentless when it comes to my game and those I choose to play with.

No one gets a free pass.

Exceptions aren’t made.

Least of all for those I’m closest to.

Because doing the work and living in truth is the most loving thing I can do.

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Breakups Aren't Necessary (An Essay)

Breakups don’t break what needs breaking.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

Being the living truth breaks what needs breaking.

Moves what needs moving.

Recalibrates every piece.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

People break up in the physical because they don’t yet know how to cut cords in the non-physical.

They’re trying to do ‘out there’ what they’ve yet to accomplish ‘in here’.

Thinking that rearranging ‘those’ things will inevitably take care of ‘these’ things.

It won’t.

Those things will remain messy things until you’ve cleaned up all these things.

Which doesn’t mean ‘stay together’ (even that’s not ultimately real).

It means there’s no need to contrive an end.

The separation / split you seek happens of its own accord through energetic truth (integrity); not through an intellectual decision or an emotional reaction.

There is absolutely no way you can be in complete integrity (which almost no one is) AND be in a dynamic that requires severing something in the physical.

From that erect place you can and will still apply any true move, which may of course include a physical separation.

But the work and the break is done in the unseen.

The rest follows suit quite naturally.

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Relationships Don't Need Work (An Essay)

Relationships don’t need to be ‘worked on’.

Nor do they require any level of sacrifice.

It’s not necessary.

Or energetically sound.

The vibe of trying,

reaching,

abandoning

(even just a little)

for or because of another…

kills the potency (and purity) that makes every dynamic thrive.

‘Working on’ the relationship by focusing on and considering the other inevitably creates an energetically limp (attached / codependent / diluted) experience for both parties, despite how intense this dysfunctional bond might feel.

It’s a poor facsimile of the pure fire you actually crave that only comes from never leaving home.

From working on THIS; not that.

Because THIS is all there is and that will adjust accordingly.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

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Diving In Unobstructed (An Essay)

The thing about being energetically erect and intact (one’s natural state), and not playing (making moves) unless and until it’s still, is that it perfectly fucks with whatever matter I’m currently holding on to.

The exact shit that’s here to be burned by the fire of ME.

It also perfectly fucks with the shit of whoever I’m playing with.

If there are any strings of attachment (hoping / waiting / needing / trying / expecting / victimizing / or whatever other bullshit that needs to go), I don’t touch it.

Because it’s an energetic turn off.

But if I feel turned on despite and because of the matter, it means that the shit is ready to get fucked up and I’m the bitch to do it.

Ultimately though, I play where it’s clear.

Where I sense no limits, no restrictions, no actual end in sight.

Just a wide open space to dive into unobstructed.

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Love Is When Nothing Remains (An Essay)

My experience of love is contingent upon what’s stripped away;

not on what’s added up.

The amount of time.

The layers of meaning.

The stories that are amassed.

Nah.

Seeing through lies.

The stories that die.

The dissolution of matter and meaning.

Accumulation doesn’t impress or interest me.

I prefer things light; not heavy.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

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