Evolving. In reverse.

There is a beauty in silence. 
A peace in internal solitude.
A quiet reckoning with life.

I’m thinking about disappearing.

Shutting down all of my platforms.
Sitting in silence.
Listening for my God.

I don’t know for how long.

I feel blessed.
Beloved.
As I wait.

I listening for the whispers.

The guidance.
The wisdom.
The grace.

To live in the presence of Glory.

I anticipate something beyond ANY prayer I have ever prayed.

A version of me is manifesting.
A me I have never known.
A me created eons before my torrid conception.

What if every accomplishment, tether to a wound, where no more?

What if everything I identified as myself, disappeared?

Everything.

Race.
Gender.
Sexuality.
Class.
Streets.
Stanford.
Seven-figure.
Philosopher.
Survivor.
Accomplished.
Bad.
Wrong.
Queer.
Kind.
Sub.
Bottom.
Aggressive fem.
Political.
God-guided.
Believer.
Subversive.
Strategic. Teacher.
Mentor.
Professor.
Thought-leader.
Author.
Artist.
Writer.
Good.
Kind.
Authentic.

ALL I have identified as “me.”

Where would “I” exist?
Who would “I” be?
What could I become?

I don’t know.
I can’t fathom.
What I do know is this:

I. Love. God.

That knowing turns the crucifixion of all my “selves” from quiet grieving into a gentle grace.

So I go within.

I retreat into myself.
To dismantle myself.
I make home in God.

Not the “mes” I identify as who I am.
But rather with the “me” that was created.
Before I was born.

There is a me before the pain of being birthed.

A me before “I” began.
Before consciousness and language.
Beyond space and time.

There is a me that is not my body.
There is no “me” at all.

Just a series of survival-based behaviors that are socially rewarded, mentally exhausting, spiritually depleting, or emotionally punished.

Me, myself, and I do not exist.

So I go within.

To evolve into that which was created before I was in my mother’s womb.

Evolving. In reverse.

Back to Source.
Embraced by “I am.”

Simply put: I’m going home.

(And I’m taking Happy with me. )