Here’s the way I often interact with life these days…
A thought shows up in my mind and my body feels excited in some way.
Inspired, playful, mischievous, feisty, alive.
For example, a thought to write a post.
As I am doing in this moment.
I follow the energy.
I trust its flow.
I trust its “guidance.”
I don’t often know where it will lead me.
What words will emerge.
A lot of the time it feels as if I am simply flowing with a stream of consciousness.
And then, at some point, I feel complete.
And I share.
Sometimes people react with thoughts that what I shared is brilliant.
Other times I receive reflections that I am perhaps being arrogant.
Some disagree with what emerges and get triggered by what I share.
People sometimes want to know why I feel the way I do.
I’m not really sure how to respond a lot of the time because.
I don’t know.
I just followed the flow.
I can check in with my mind and attempt to find all sorts of “reasons” for why I shared it.
For why what I shared is “true.”
Evidence to support whatever “claim” arose from me.
And I play this game sometimes.
It’s often pretty fun.
But other times I don’t really want to.
I don’t like feeling like I have to justify “my perspective.”
I quote “my perspective” because it’s simply what’s flowing from me.
I am the vessel.
So it doesn’t even necessarily feel like mine.
My mind loves to take credit for whatever I produce, especially when it’s received favorably.
It wants to call it mine.
And it likes to say, “Oh, that was just something that came through me,” in moments when people question me.
When judgment comes my way.
It gets uncomfortable and wants to release responsibility.
So what does taking responsibility look like in this context?
What does it mean to “hold myself accountable” when I am allowing myself to be the vessel for energy flow to emerge in whatever form it wishes to embody?
I choose to take responsibility.
To hold myself accountable.
Because, in the end, I don’t know what the f*ck is going on.
I don’t know if everything I’m “claiming” is just some sh*t I’m making up to release accountability for my “choices.”
There I go, quoting choices, like they aren’t even mine.
Being completely irresponsible!
But this also feels like some form of self-attack at times.
To “take responsibility.”
To “hold myself accountable.”
Because what does that even mean?
Does it mean judging myself when others are uncomfortable in response?
There is a deconstruction occurring within me of many ideas.
Many concepts no longer make much sense anymore.
In some ways, nothing makes sense anymore.
And the further I venture down this path.
The less accountability resonates for me, in the ways I imagine it to be.
It appears as if this is often something that limits me.
That limits others.
From being who we truly are.
From following our organic flow.
A limitation of love embodying the world.
As it does in nature.
Does the eagle say
“I can’t do that!
What will people think?
Is that out of integrity for me?
What will the consequences be if I really let myself go?”
No, it just flows.
And a natural harmony unfolds.
The thing is.
The more I let myself go.
The more free I feel.
And the more free I feel.
The more I feel as if love is embodying me.
This is self-trust.
I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing.
Because love is “doing it.”
And I trust love.
I feel love flowing through me.
I feel life force driving my “choices.”
Maybe it is in fact a choice, in that I’m choosing to surrender.
Because it feels so f*cking good to come alive in this way.
I become creativity.
Creative flow becomes me.
A fire ignites in me as I prepare to release my writing to the world.
I light up.
I feel it now.
Energy flowing radiantly through the vessel that I am.
I imagine myself to be feeling the energy of free-flowing change and unity.
The change occurring within me.
And the change that results from every beautiful soul impacted by my share.
The me “outside of me” joining in celebration with the me I experience myself to be.
Perhaps in ways we often do not translate as celebration.
As I write this, I’m thinking what accountability means for me has to do with the aftermath of how I respond to the reflections I receive.
And I feel that my accountability is to love.
The paradox of love is that it is not always what it seems.
Love could be challenging someone.
Ushering them out of their comfort zone.
It could be making myself or others so uncomfortable that we are “forced” to let go of something limiting.
Some belief about ourselves, about the world.
Something that prevents us from being the vessel.
From allowing ourselves to be more fully embodied by love.
In the end, I know nothing.
I don’t know what is best for anyone, including me.
When I say I, I mean the “I” I have come to identify with.
The mind knows nothing.
I imagine the mind as a tool.
To navigate my experience.
And I wish to allow the heart to “take the lead.”
The heart is where I feel myself living more naturally as time unfolds.
Dwelling in this space is where I come alive.
Another “paradox” is, “Who is the one imagining the mind as a tool?”
Is this not the mind itself?
At some point, any form of thinking begins to feel unreliable as a source for any sort of “truth.”
So where to go from here?
What do we rely on for guidance when the guide we have known all our lives begins to seem less and less reliable?
Who is writing these words?
This has largely felt like a stream of consciousness.
I have done very little editing.
It’s flowing quite quickly.
Where are all these thoughts coming from?
Why am I inspired to write them down?
To share them with others?
Again, I could come up with all sorts of “reasons” for this.
I could judge myself for seeking attention and approval.
This may or may not be “true.”
Whose perspective is this?
Is it a “reliable” source?
I am perhaps spinning in circles a bit now.
And that’s really the point.
That’s the mind’s game.
To get me questioning myself.
Lost in its maze.
So I continue to identify with it.
Because if I stop thinking I am the mind…
Why don’t I write in “real paragraphs” anymore?
What is happening within me?
Why has my writing become more poetic?
Why has its structure changed?
Perhaps the mind is asking these questions so I continue to identify with it.
Why I am sharing this publicly?
What am I trying to get out of this?
Who am I trying to influence?
What am I trying to prove?
So what does it mean to let go of this rascal?
What does it mean to operate without the mind?
Or to simply use it as a tool?
For me, it means trust.
It means flow.
No more words.
No more explanations.
No more justifying my existence and my creative flow.
Yes to those.
At least, for now.
And for me.
In this moment.
With as much awareness and courage as I currently possess.
This means unlimited expression.
Allowing my life force to freely flow.
And being love in response to whatever impact I may have.
But what exactly being love means.
I do not know.
So I let go.
A version of this post was originally posted on TroyCohen.Wordpress.com and is republished here with permission from the author.