“In fact a mature person does not fall in love, he rises in love. The word ’fall’ is not right. Only immature people fall; they stumble and fall down in love. Somehow they were managing and standing. They cannot manage and they cannot stand – they find a woman and they are gone, they find a man and they are gone. They were always ready to fall on the ground and to creep. They don’t have the backbone, the spine; they don’t have that integrity to stand alone.
A mature person has the integrity to be alone. And when a mature person gives love, he gives without any strings attached to it: he simply gives. And when a mature person gives love, he feels grateful that you have accepted his love, not vice versa. He does not expect you to be thankful for it – no, not at all, he does not even need your thanks. He thanks you for accepting his love. And when two mature persons are in love, one of the greatest paradoxes of life happens, one of the most beautiful phenomena: they are together and yet tremendously alone; they are together so much so that they are almost one. But their oneness does not destroy their individuality, in fact, it enhances it: they become more individual.
Two mature persons in love help each other to become more free. There is no politics involved, no diplomacy, no effort to dominate. How can you dominate the person you love? Just think over it. Domination is a sort of hatred, anger, enmity. How can you think of dominating a person you love? You would love to see the person totally free, independent; you will give him more individuality. That’s why I call it the greatest paradox: they are together so much so that they are almost one, but still in that oneness they are individuals. Their individualities are not effaced – they have become more enhanced. The other has enriched them as far as their freedom is concerned.
Immature people falling in love destroy each other’s freedom, create a bondage, make a prison. Mature persons in love help each other to be free; they help each other to destroy all sorts of bondages. And when love flows with freedom there is beauty. When love flows with dependence there is ugliness.”-by Osho

I have reread this passage over and over, only to decide that perhaps “falling in love” should never be called love at all. Instead it seems it is a wolf-like idea dressed in a sheep-suit of fake-love. Similar to the idea of conditional love: can love truly exist within the confines of a condition? Can it grow and thrive with the expectation that something or someone will be the way we want to shape them or imagine them to be in our head?
When we place false images on the things or the ones we love, we don’t really see Them. We love an idea and an idea can fail us. I believe people rarely fail us, but rather the ideas we have placed upon them and how we believe they should be are the reasons we become disappointed. Unconditionally loving a person, “rising in love,” is like faith, when we go forth without expectation, but with a sense of wonder and excitement that all things are as they should be, we are set free.

Where is this, Temperance?
For I can no longer feel my feet within this deep dark mud
Instead, long awaited roots anchoring into the soil.

Where is this, Temperance?
When the storms blow in,
Where I was one to whirl up in the chaos
I bend with ease through the toil,
As if I were only in a breeze.

Where is this, Temperance?
I don’t feel I have gone anywhere
and yet I grow.
Growing up, you say, Temperance?
Growing strong?
Setting my roots and allowing the storms that have passed to water my soul?
So, that I may know myself deeper
and stand in truth, firmly?

So this is where, Temperance?
This is I, this is me, this us, this is we
Always growing…                                                                                                                                                                                                           Yet always where we are meant to be.

A heart is like a Phoenix
Bursting into flames to be reborn
Lifting from the ash slightly closer to its purpose
A little further down the path of its quest.

A tear is like a storm
Waiting to wash away the ashes
Yearning to water the trees of our soul
So we may grow upward and proud

A soul is like a deep warm wind
Circling through the chasms of our thoughts
Whipping through our bones
Challenging us to live!

A death is like a life
Eternally in a state of ending
Eternally moving toward the beginning
Reminding us our present is precious

The day you realize this life has been lived inside of a snow globe.
The white confetti falls all around,
But nothing absorbs into you.
The day you realize the plants are plastic and they’ll never really grow.
Though you had hoped,
or was that disillusion?
Nothing but a waste of time.
Nothing but a waste of water.
And now we know the world is all glass walls and fake greenery,
And we finally feel the air inside the tiny glass world getting thinner.
As we press our hands and faces to the edge of this life of facades,
It becomes numbingly apparent we placed ourselves here…
Inside this dome lies.
But at least here, when the snow falls, it doesn’t weather the flowers.
They never feel a thing
And neither do we.

Don’t prove me right:
I realize this situation is extremely ambivalent,
But choices can be made,
And with the destruction of every world
A new, different world is born.

Don’t prove me right:
All faith will be lost,
But not in you.
Faith that I’ll never find worth in something not broken.

Don’t prove me right:
Get off the floor.
Pick up the pieces.
You are not broken, unless you choose to be.
It’s all a choice.
There are no forever’s.

Don’t prove me right:
I am not broken,
Not anymore.
I just look for pieces to pick up and put together.

And in the end?
Tons of little broken bits,
And none of them fit together.
When boredom sets in they’ll get thrown back to the shore…
And so will you.

Don’t prove me right.

Irish teetered, looking down to the waves.
Unknown blackness, swirling underwater caves.
The burning world behind him, catching up to fast.
Flames lick his heal, as he tries stepping back.

The moment is now, Irish, you must decide.
Jump to the black or to the flames you abide.
Decide, sweet Irish!… it’s time to decide!
And below the sirens sing:
“Irish come play with us. Come set yourself free.
The waves always brings us where we need to be.”

Irish, you sit now? Burning comfortably on your peak?
Is knowing death better than the life you fear to seek?
But Irish cannot hear us, he’s chosen his path.
Fear defeated freedom, he’s waiting for Death’s wrath.

The moment was now, Irish, you had to decide.
Jump to the black, instead the flames you abide.
Decide, sweet Irish, did you finally decide?
And below the sirens sing:
“Irish won’t play with us, won’t set himself free.
The waves would have made him what he yearned to be.”

It’s never to late, Irish….jump!… and see!

Don’t be scared, my love
For the monsters in the dark are only in your thoughts
And thoughts are yours to create new worlds,
Not worry of imagined brutes who are to afraid to climb out from under the bed.

Don’t be scared, my love
For the monsters in the day are only those ones who live afraid
And your world is much bigger than Fear and its fiends
Care not and cower non to those who choose to feel by showing fangs

Don’t be scared, my love
For the monster in the mirror is not a monster at all
Very soon you will look in his beautiful, yellow eyes
And you will see universes and the new worlds longing to be built.

Don’t be scared, my love… Don’t be scared.

During the silence you will remember:
There once was a voice
Once was a plan and an action

Shh… Hold on… Here comes the panic:

How can you see yourself through all the masks you are wearing?
How do you remember past the facade?
How can you love?
Do you love?
You’re standing in the puddle where your heart keeps bleeding
Bleeding and bleeding…out.

No one’s coming in to fish you out
You have to swim
Swim through the bleeding and the panic
Out of the pit that you dug
Off of the cross that you nailed yourself to
And you have to stand alone
Because we all do
And in the end we all will

During the silence you will remember… There once was a voice…
Shhh…can you hear it?

I have known true love.
Love unconditional
Love without boundary
Love without expectation
And be it near or be it far
Be it felt by touch or felt by heart
It resides in me for life.
No person can deny me this love
And that love covers and protects its token of affection
Till the end of our days.
What comfort in that, I have taken:
I have known true love!

Quote for a sleepless Midnight:

“Again and again, the impossible problem is solved when we see that the problem is only a tough decision waiting to be made.”-R.H.S

Question for a sleepless Midnight:

What are we waiting for?  And while we are doing all of this waiting….What is waiting for us?