I have two lives.

There’s the life where I can endlessly ramble about the perfection of existence, the magic of this divine event, and the absurd intelligence and beauty and creativity of it all.

In that life I’m mostly like a stoned squirrel that stumbled upon a life supply of nuts, reflecting on its effortless future.

And then there’s the other life.

Normal life.

Daily life.

Messy life.

Where I get to deal with people who don’t give a shit about spiritual explorations.

It has been interesting and often even quite hard, to feel comfortable in both lives, and to be able to switch from one to the other, or find some kind of balance.

The two lives, these two radically different states of mind, used to spill over fairly easily for a number of years.

I was either ‘too’ full of conscious aliveness and totally uninterested in the mundane side of life, or I was over my head in human crap again, and seemed to have lost the connection to the deeper thing.

I went up and down and from left to right.

It was one, or the other.

And it was quite shitty.

The thing is: when you really feel how awesome this all is (life, I mean), you tend to want to share that with everybody you meet.

That doesn’t really work.

And when you dón’t see how amazing we truly are, at all, everything seems to be problematic.

This weird dance has changed, gradually, but undeniably.

It feels much more simple now.

The sweet feelings of groundedness and spontaneous appreciation are present in both lives.

And the experiences of despair and uselessness and anxiety and anger, are way more embedded in solid love.

This means that I’m way more patient and open-minded in general.

I worry less and get struck by awe a lot more.

There’s just so much more joy and stuff like that.

The two lives have merged pretty much.

So, to finish this in a more truthful fashion:

I had two lives.

Thank God for realizing it doesn’t work that way.

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(Photo by @kyllik, for Unsplash)