I'm calling forth every outsider,
Outcast,
And outlier.
This one goes out to the freaks and the weirdos,
The edge of the bell-curve dwellers.
The ones who go long.
I'm talking to you.
This is a drawing,
A conjuring.
I'm calling forth your inner wisdom.
I'm outing you for your intuition.
Listen.
Screw me.
Take it from Rumi,
Who said to sell your cleverness and purchase bewilderment.
My sweetest friend.
Can you afford not to?
Come out.
Despite the imminent threat,
The impending exile.
Despite your coolness,
The abject fear of looking foolish.
Despite being ostracized.
Despite your desire for acceptance from the tribe.
Come out.
I know all too well what it's like to be shunned,
To be shamed,
To be straight up endangered and violated.
It sucks.
Come out anyway.
Leave your predators in the predated past where they belong.
Trust.
Despite being burned previously.
Despite your irrefutable evidence to the contrary.
Stop slumming it with ghosts who don't deserve your time or energy.
Walk out into the wide world.
You can only be brave when you're terrified.
This is the only game in town anyway.
Might as well get out on the field.
Come out.
Do it for the kid you used to be.
The little girl with crooked pigtails who loved to sing until some grumpy grown-up told her she was off-key.
The little boy in corduroys who wanted to dance so badly but lofted all inside his body.
This is your uncorking.
It's time for your story.
Pop the top off your bottle of glory.
What are you waiting for?
We all want to see.
Set your genius inner genie free.
Come out.
I have nothing new to impart to you.
This is coming as an answer to your prior request.
This is your active remembering.
Come out.
Buzz through the bars of the perceived prison of fleshly limitation.
Burst through your sternum.
Fill this room.
Fill the whole building.
Fill the night sky with your wild brightness.
Come out.
Would you deny all the heavenly bodies of the galaxy their life's mission?
Why?
Why would you withhold from them their most fervent desire?
Simply to move in your sphere.
Come out.
The sky is spilling with supernova who have traveled billions of light years just to shine down on your gorgeousness.
With the sole purpose of gazing upon your countenance just to commune with your witness.
Why play hard to get with the infinite?
Give it up you little love slut.
Save that standoffish behavior for the haters,
Violators,
And naysayers.
Look.
Somewhere on the journey between birth and this very moment your heart got broken.
Things got thwarted and distorted.
Predators and manipulators did their dirty work.
They predictably prayed and manipulated.
You were wronged and that ain't right.
You protected yourself as best you knew how.
The gestation was tenuous.
The gestation was tenuous.
But hallelujah you've made it.
Now's the time for realignment.
Crag your shell my little chickadee.
Share your pretty with everybody.
Come out.
You are made of stardust and you know this.
The outrageous unfolding of reality leaves you breathless.
Knocks you senseless.
You don't want to miss this.
Come out.
We get this brief blink of an eye together.
Let's keep it real.
Even though it means being vulnerable and permeable.
What other options have we got?
I'm raising the stakes and ripping a rift in the fabric of time space to reach you.
This is our holy communion.
Come out.
I am placing rock sugar on the alter of your boundless potential.
I am burning frankincense by your hideout.
I am straight smoking you out.
I see the sweet believer in you.
The pearl of all.
Come out.
Look,
Do you know what could unfold from this peak moment of limitlessness?
Anything.
You could sing some Stevie Wonder and dance all crazy.
You could go jump on a trampoline.
Trust me,
It's amazing.
You could eat some ice cream.
Even if it has to be vegan,
Soy,
Organic.
Just eat some whimsical freaking ice cream,
Please.
This existence is a menagerie of human flesh suit sized miniature prisons.
I get it.
Totally.
Yet,
How quickly this is all passing.
Nothing fancy.
You know this already.
Is there an out?
Is there a doctor in the house?
I'm trying to say that you're fantastic.
I'm trying to say that the answer,
You have it.
Come out.
Don't end up mummified by your own cocoon.
Strangled by your own best intentions.
Your attempt at self-protection.
It's time to stretch your raw wings into the open field of possibility.
Yes,
The air will sting.
It's all right.
It's called feeling.
And you're ready.
Come out.
How safe and impervious is the seed?
How vulnerable that first sprouting.
Yet sprout it must and sprout it does.
And out it comes.
We were made to become.
We are made to become.
This entire universe is an act of becoming.
A holy rolling,
An eternity of unfolding,
Of not knowing,
Of risk,
Of creation.
And yes,
Of potential violation.
Still we persevere.
Shake off the cosmic dust.
Arise.
We must continue.
This universe wants to show you your own light.
It's reflecting it back to you all of the time.
You can be fearless and wild.
You can shake your booty.
You can strut your signature strut.
Your modesty is lovely.
It's the shame that I urge you to shirk.
Do some spiritual clutter clearing.
You can be as proper as you want to be or you can be raunchy to the nth degree.
It honestly doesn't matter to me.
I just want you to feel free.
Come out.
Do you,
Snowflake?
Do your one of a kind.
Show me what you're working with.
Let me see your light.
Come on,
Little rock star.
Come out.
And shine.
