… and neither can the complex spirit.
Our souls, as well as the practices, philosophies, and the methods we use to temper them aren’t meant to be worn as a “virtue costume”. Like a garden, our souls are meant to be in symbiotic and reciprocal relationship with us, feeding us as we “feed” them. When we start putting on display how “whatever” we are, we become like the plant that bears fruit before the stalks and stems are strong enough to support the weight: collapsing under its own pressure, and rotting back into Earth, returning its minerals and nutrients to the garden to, one day, try again at becoming.
The difference between us and the little decomposing plant is that we are responsible for our own early death and two-dimensionality, while it is not. Our very sense of self, AKA our egos, are at the heart of identity sickness.
Since we think we can become who we appear to be, we never have to face who we are beneath.
Being healthy, vibrant, and radiant is very different from appearing that way.
In the former case, everyone knows and you’ve never got to say anything. The latter, no one would know unless you said something.
(See y’all tomorrow)