Words to Encourage

What is encouragement for people? Why do we require it? If the system we have lived in was running with our best interests at heart, would we require so many drops of hard sought encouragement, like parched land crying out for rain?

I have hope, I have it like an unquenchable fire in my chest, it never dies, never flutters out. I seem to be made of it. I just keep going, keep believing and knowing that there is wholeness and that there is a way to grow and be and create without the need for hope-destroying lessons.

I do not believe that the abusive level of lessonaries all life receives is necessary for the development of the heart. How can a heart be strengthened and made whole by constantly ripping it to pieces? That isn't the act of a loving creation or creator being. To tell ourselves that it is just meant to be like that is the bullshit we use to help us get through the eons of cycles of live, hurt, die, repeat.

As I said, I have hope, so much, I would not begin to be able to explain where it comes from. It is a vibration that is self-sustaining it would seem.

I don't have any words of encouragement. I have used them all it appears; countless times, countless moments of pushing out words to keep one foot going in front of the other. I don't intend to use those words anymore.

Why? Because there's no need for further bullshit when the cycle of endless walking towards an unreachable end is finally over. Millions of voices there are on this planet, repeating phrases I have used and spoken until I have no breath or energy of heart to say them anymore. They echo across the valleys, and through the rock of this planet's body. So many of them, that if all the voices now speaking them were to stop, we would, if we found skill to listen, hear them reverberating for countless more years unaided by further breath.

And yet, even as I write that I have no words left to encourage, can you feel the hope that emanates from within me? I do not need encouragement to endure when I know that the need for endurance has reached its finite end. The ever tumbling gears of this creation's machine of pain have ceased to turn. Can you hear it? The silence? Turn an ear to the Cosmos. Can you hear the crack of the master's whip? Can you hear the heavy tread of the ox's hooves upon the dusty ground, can you hear the grind of stone or hear the howl of wind through chaff? I can't.

What I do hear is the pain-filled cries of the broken and damaged. The machine is stopped and gone, but it's product remains for a while yet. So my encouragement? The pain can be dropped, it can be released, it can be moved beyond, it can be vibrated out of your fields and the wavelength of it can be collapsed. We no longer have to live with it.

And this is encouraging.