If you can see what I see, then you know I’m not crazy to be on the mission that I am… Okay, maybe I’m a little crazy, but you understand this isn’t just some lost soul kind of thing- you are probably on a pilgrimage too. And if you don’t see what I see, well that’s okay, I’m sure you see something. Maybe we can teach each other here?

If you can see what I see, you probably feel that pull, like it is important for you to do whatever it is you are doing; it’s deeper than what alot of the people you know can grasp; and it really makes no sense compared to what we grew up thinking we were supposed to do with our lives; and sometimes that makes you weary, but you trust the Truth anyway.

Maybe, you’ve experienced how much good food is thrown away. You’ve experienced how most of our human food, is polluting the atmosphere because of the way we deal with the waste. You’ve realized, you pay money for that waste- because yes, businesses count it into their budget and pricing- and they’ve made food inaccessible by crushing the wheatfield with their building to sell you wheat. That just dawned on you.

Maybe you’ve also realized how many people are going hungry, because you are someone who walks the city streets, lives in a tent on the edge of town, and your living conditions (as far as a house goes) is on par with that of a truly homeless person. Seeing all that waste, and those starving eyes, strikes a fire in you.

Suddenly you see shelters built solely from garbage found on the beach, and polluted across forest floors. You see people in rain gear, from a garbage bag, and warmth, from an old garbage towl.

Maybe you went hiking, through what you thought would be a pristine little forest, and ended up in a clearcut. You realize, they took the wood they’d sell, and the rest of the trees are left to rot, even though they weren’t ready too. Maybe you can build a cozy little home from that garbage too. You can, at least, appreciate those trees. Afterall, all they’ve done is provide for you, and your family, and all of humankind.

None of this, is about running from the concept of money, the convenience of a grocery story, or the luxury of a permanent structured house. It’s so much more than all those superficial things can demonstrate.

Life, is so much more than all of that; and being Human, well that should blow your mind. We are so rare, with such a tiny life span- trees are hundreds of years old, some thousands- and there are species who have been in existence for millions- then there are Humans.

What is your Truth? What opens your eyes and kicks your passion into gear?

The things I have mentioned, are just some of the things which have expanded my consciousness; while also things I know for certain others have experienced too. It is a beautiful, b-e-a-u-t-i-FULL, world (I mean, see what some of us see in garbage, and well, it’s a whole new world!) I’d be thrilled if you fully tried it, but totally accepting if you don’t too.

What is your human story? I want to know more! Not everyone is going to live in a tent, or a van. Not everyone is going to experience the thrill of a dumpster, or see garbage washed up on shore as art. What makes your life beautiful? What brings your spirit alive? I do really want to know your side too, but with a little more depth than the basic money, house, and clothing… you know?

I am frustrated.

I am frustrated because I want to give and give and give; I want to share and love and laugh; I want to heal and provide, for everyone, everywhere; but I am stuck with a debt over my head; and none of that, will pay back the money that I owe.

Money that I borrowed to remember who I Am and why I am here. Money that helped me learn to share and love and laugh; heal and provide. Money which carried me through school, opening my eyes to the beauty of the world.

I can’t take back what I did, or I’d never have found this overflowing sort of joy. Suddenly I’m at a crossroad, wondering what to do about all this money that I owe.

It feels wrong, to walk past garbage on the beach, and a homeless man in need. It feels wrong, to steal from the world- because that’s how I feel when I buy produce robbed from the land, when I could share by growing my own. It feels wrong to tune out the song of birds, and the whispers of trees, but buzzing city streets will threaten my life if I don’t.

So here I am, at the crossroad, trying to learn how to balance both. It is not in me to do what feels wrong- that is not who I am, that is not love or trust or honesty. Yet, it feels like I must do the wrong, to rid of the giant student loans.

Oh what to do. What TO DO!…
dklagjlrajgoiraurioeuaiowueroiwuare is a visual of the thinking in my head…
Life would be easier, if only I’d taken my education by the books.
sajfioejreiouaoijvofiajeoir. 

(And for the record, I am happy. I am full of love and trust for the world. I am a giant bounty of joy! I am also human, so I also do get frustrated- especially when my path feels more right than ever, yet is complicated by matters that seem so wrong.)

You are good,
and right,
and perfect in all of your humanness.
Light up the world with all of your you-ness-
beautiful, magificent you.

No holding back.
No more excuses.
Let go,
let yourself be you.

Love and compassion,
everywhere you turn;
rainbows at every rainfall;
and plenty of negative distractions too.
Fuel your potential
with what is right.

You are life’s great masterpiece.
Let the light colour your seams,
and become all you truly can be.

You are more than a tiny working ant,
you are the light the world needs to see.

You need money to get a job, and a job to get money. You also need money to get free healthcare. And money to pay for plants- free to billions of other species, every other one except for you… and maybe your dog- but money to pay for them, so you have energy to get a job and make some money.

Work your way up the ladder- neglect the poor of a healthy meal, so the wealthy can avoid spending money on the one percentile of people who might sue for stupid reasons- the one percentile suing because they desparately need money to give someone else money.

Do this until you make ends meet, it’s understandable. Eventually you can finally start spending money on things you don’t need; all so a 7 year old child can make some money to save his baby sister from dying… in a little dirt shack… in a country you never even knew existed… because you were too busy making money to give that very country your money.

I could go on, but I feel every reason for why we need money is based on some ridiculous cyclical arguement, with no means to an end. Money can surely be beneficial- like a means of negotiation- but I feel like we shouldn’t be negotiating our basic survival either.

That’s part of what’s silly here; it is part of what makes me so confused over why we need money on such an individual scale. I’d rather pay someone in hugs and laughter, or teach them to rock climb, or share the food in the backyard garden, or the food gathered from out and and about…. keep passing on love and compassion, instead of paper and electronic signals of paper, I guess? Just living honestly makes more sense doesn’t it? 

…Just another thought of a homeless girl is all. Blabbering, travelling, and learning about life.

Why do things feel so right when they are so complicated? Like jumping through hoops because time and jobs and school and money, just don’t line up with relationships and passion and puppy dogs?

These pressures to give in, cave around me as I trudge through hardening cement, just to make the smallest of baby steps towards my dream. I tried to fit where I didn’t belong, because I faulted on myself; I didn’t trust the flow, I just didn’t. Then I did. And that’s really what complicated matters.

[ Gosh it gets fuzzy in times like these! Two feet on the ground, but one in China  and one in Mexico. I thought I could do both. ]

Numbers over my head, like an umbrella on a sunny day, blocking my view from the wide open ocean before me.  A sneak peak here and there, through the haze. I know where to go, but the number just doesn’t exist in that flow.  [Yet it is, what brought me to the sea of possibilties before me. ] It is all so frustrating. Confusion of worlds who can barely communicate.

The sun burns the clouds away, but there is no sun in a ficticious world. Just a picturesque version, gone in the flip of a page.

Money, who’s the brilliant mastermind behind this? Can they not see, I live to provide? But how to provide, when they’ve burdened me with this weight upon my shoulders. I am not like them, I am me. Yet I needed what I needed to give all that I can give. This energy exploding through my veins, ready to share…

They could make a profit from simply letting me be me, you know? But they don’t, and I’m not sure what hoops I’ve got to jump through. I am a fuel they seize to see, a light they forget to use; block the flame, and take the cash, that’s what I a feel they see me as. Oh if they could see the value of letting in the light, what a world they would see.

I will find a way, I know I will; I trust myself, I trust the flow. To Be, is all we need. But this energy in me is quickly melting into confusion. I don’t know how to neutralize the acidtiy of the rain cloud over me, without sacrificing the light which I Am.

Am I right to be who I am? Is there no debt forgiveness for that? I’ll exchange my light- my fuel, my love. I want no return, but room to share.