“Perfection, Eh?”

“If perfection were a prerequisite for fulfilling life purpose and helping others, we’d all be in a hell of a lot of trouble.”

Many of us (most definitely myself) are/have been unconsciously or consciously enslaved to the belief that we must achieve perfection, be ‘good enough’ before we can be of any benefit to anyone or anything. This belief system keeps us living in some far off potential future where we ‘arrive’ and subsequently embrace the masses with our amassed wisdom and knowledge. While at times this can be quite inspiring (albeit delusional), it often saps our motivation, promotes extreme judgement of our pasts (and others’ pasts), and in some cases this can also birth a quite volatile god complex.

A wise woman once told me, “Everyone has skeletons.”

It is not for us to undermine the validity of an aspiring or successful teacher, light worker, empath, creator, catalyst or clairvoyant by digging up the bones of their past. Regrettably, this seems to be one of our primary misuses of the (mis?)information age. The powers that be all too often exploit such methods to promote fear, paranoia, and ultimately paralysis among the populous.

It is, in my opinion, only our duty to locate such skeletons within ourselves, face them bravely, learn what we can, transmute and transcend them with the light, love, and divinity we are all an embodiment of.

If you wish to help, by all means, listen to your intuition. However, as you become more attuned to that still small voice, the more often you’ll hear, “The time is now.” 

Remember that ‘success’ and ‘validity’ are such relative terms anyway. You are never alone. Love has and always will be the key. Let it guide you always and you will never truly go wrong.

                   Wisdom and Bravery were meant to live hand in hand.

Au Fait…

Oh, well here I go again

The city that I swore I wouldn’t end up in

Awake and overdressed

In layers and in leers

I haven’t seen a winter in four years

If in this world I don’t see her face

Perhaps we’ll affix from beyond the grave and float…

Oh, how have we come to this?

Conspiracies now all too relevant

Societal arrest

Oh my, how things have changed

But technology and progress aren’t the same

Love in purest form is not a thing to be possessed

Energic human nature wasn’t formed to live like this

So tell me why do we unwittingly accept?

Music & Lyrics © 2017 The Good Ghost on Garden Gnome Polaroids

Instagram: @sweatersandthegoodghost

@gardengnomepolaroids

On Approval Seeking:

People pleaser?

Miserable concerning one person’s, or a group of people’s opinion of you?

Consider this:

     The opinions of one individual are ever-evolving, changing with the wind, often countless times in a day (let alone a lifetime), and spring from their own unique perceptions formed from their own set of experiences, conditioning, programming, and belief systems; all of which can quite easily comprise ignorance, arrogance, hurt, doubt, fear, and insecurity among many other things. Their opinion is a projection. And projection is a natural human tendency of the ego  in protect mode. You don’t fit into their box, their parameters, therefore the ego believes you must pose some sort of an imaginary threat to what it deems ‘normal’.

     Taking this even further: This person is one of more than 6 billion people on the planet. This is but one planet, in one of many galaxies, that comprise one of many universes, and this person’s fleeting opinions are (because you’ve allowed them to) currently disrupting your life experience. Can you really please over 6 billion people all of the time? I know, I know…I feel foolish as well. 

     Simply stated: You’ll never keep up. How others perceive you has everything to do with them and very little to do with you. *

“Widen the spectrum of your perceptions, and you will inevitably spread the expanse of your peace.”-A.W. Sweaters 
*thank you Ralph Smart

Ancient Egypt, Orion, All That…

     “Holy s@#%, did I really move here?” Me upon moving across the other half of the U.S. (I’d already traversed the east to midwest stretch.) 

     I released all resistance and my eyelids followed suit. Awareness heightening to surrounding sounds; first immediate, then at several arm’s lengths. At least five kinds of birds, crickets, a well-oiled lawnmower, semis on the somewhat distant highway, the persistent breeze. (Have you ever considered that its not actually the wind you hear, but the wind’s interaction with objects in it’s path?)

     I ease open my aging eyes, perceiving the cluttered clouds to my right. One evolves into the shape of a pyramid, only to rapidly devolve. 

     To it’s right I witness a cloud take on a detailed form of the all-seeing eye of Horus, and remain stable, despite the wind. 

     It stayed and stayed…

     I couldn’t look away.

     “If this is real,” I addressed the apparition, “blink.”

     My heart swelled as the eye-shaped cloud slowly blinked and proceeded to dissipate. 

     Crazy?…perhaps…

     Later: “I’ve been seeing vivid constellations when my eyes close. And when they’re open I see much more of the microbial organisms floating across my pupils…”

Wisdom from “Agnes Grey”

“I will candidly lay before public what I would not disclose to the most intimate friend.” 

     (Subconscious sentiment of many introverted creators, including myself.)

“…she had feet to carry her and hands to minister to her own necessities.”

     (Beauty and nobility in self-reliance.)

“An elegant house and spacious grounds were not to be despised, but she would rather live in a cottage with Richard Grey, than in a palace with any other man in the world.”

“…she was a valuable fortune in herself.”

     (‘THAT’ kind of love.)

“…a vague and secret wish to see a little more of the world.”

     (It always begins as such. A seed. A simple unassuming symbolic seed. And then…)

“…the elasticity of youth…”

     (Without which many of us, especially myself, would not have reached any form of adulthood on this plane of existence.)

    (And finally:)

“Instead of lamenting past calamities, we might cheerfully set to work to remedy them; and the greater the difficulties, the harder our present privations-the greater should be our cheerfulness to endure the latter, and our vigor to contend against the former.” 

     (This extremely underrated and oft overlooked book from the most underrated and oft overlooked Brontë sister, unexpectedly changed my life and enhanced my world in many, many ways. Ironically, I have my sister, ne’er overlooked, but oft underrated, to thank for the gift of this humble volume that has spoken volumes to me, and is waiting to do the same for you…if you’ll allow for such enlightenment…)

A Curse for Good Luck

I dog the English language quite often. But, it has it’s perks…

“A Curse for Good Luck”

By, A.W. Sweaters 

Good night for instigation 

Good night for choking up

Good night for meditation 

Let go of what’s spent years pent up

Good night to break the habit 

Good night for letting go

Good night for exorcism 

I think I think you know 
Apparitions swim around my frame 

In the reflection of a window pane

I’m grateful for every breath I take
Good day to pass on the bottle 

Good day to pick up a pen

Good day for correspondence 

Good day to take your hand in my hand 

Good day to call my siblings 

Good days, I must confess 

Good days are when I’m with them

Without them I’d have drowned in this
Why should it be so complicated to say

“Walk away. Walk away.”
Good day to leave the country 

Rest my bones in yours

Fumble through your language 

And trade our battle scars 

For beauty marks

http://soundcloud.com/sweaterstheband

To a Twin Flame

Twin Flame, 

     Kui maaimas alustada? Paljud osad ja tukid on kristallselge; teised segamin jama. 

     Я, насколько я знаю, не знаю, что вы еще, не встретил тебя еще, и еще…в этом возрасте, в этом состоянии сердца и настроении я посвященный вам. 

     Je suis sûr que dans bien des égards, il est naïf et probablement stupide, mais je vais à peine parler à une femme à moins que je crois qu’elle pourrait être vous. Je ne dors pas avec quelqu’un; pour de nombreuses raisons, mais surtout parce que je préfère partager ces beaux cadeaux avec vous. Je l’ai vécu et assez pour savoir vécu que comme vous vérité personnelle.

     Se joskus yksinäinen. Heikko ja typerä hetkiä olen jakanut liikaa yksilöiden Olen hyvin tietoinen En ole tarkoitettu. Vaikka se saattaa tuntua triviaali useimmille, en tuskailla epärehellisyys ja mahdollisuus olen saattanut aiheuttaa kenellekään vahinkoa. Sinänsä Pyrin pitämään ‘sobriety’ hyvin kädessä ja puolestaan edelleen siunaus kaikille ympärilläni. 

     I feel already it has been therapeutic penning a letter to you. Perhaps, if we should meet in this world, in this life, in this reality, I’ll present you with a stack of ridiculous, eccentric, slightly neurotic, yet pure-intentioned pages to wade through. 

Võib-olla…

Может быть…

Peut-être…

Ehkä…

Kogu mu armastus, 

Adam
(To native speakers of Estonian, Finnish, Russian and French: my sincerest apoligies if I in any way butchered the expression of your respective languages. I’ve only been learning Russian for 2 1/2 yrs, Finnish and French for 2, and Estonian for 6 months. It is with the utmost respect that I’ve intended to celebrate the beauty, eloquence and diversity of these languages.)

Lyhyt maininta luontoa…

     Nature is my primary regenerative source. Nature, in my humble opinion, is a sacred gift we’ve all been given the luxury of cherishing. A gift with the inherent ability to comfort all ills and heal all ailments. In modern western society, and more specifically in staunch religious circles, we are conditioned and programmed to condescendingly approach this perspective as a laughable, superstitious wiccan witchery; some sort of proverbial primal joke. I get the joke. And that is why…

     Even in the midst of my sister’s suburbia; I awaken with the taunting undertones of an irrational foul mood; a detrimental demeanor with the design to derail a day before it has barely begun. I exit through the maze of nieces, nephews, cats, hallway collisions, and layers of white noise to the solitary back deck, promptly embrace a potted plant and gaze lovingly, up close and personal at it’s oft overlooked intricate and exquisite beauty. I cannot help but love it with the whole of my weathered being. I gently caress it’s tender leaves. The purest intent in the whole of accessible memory. The words come.

     In the wake of photosynthetically induced euphoria, my eyes involuntarily close and I slip into a deeper (no, not deep. I was already there) meditative state. Mood is transcended as aspiration embraces serenity. Misplaced minutes later I awaken to abiding joy.

     Dilated pupils fix upon an ethereal wind chime floating before me. A plethora of piano keys articulated with “Für Elise” flow strangely at home amidst distorted trees, boasting birds, belligerent bugs and baiting bushes. Instantly I’m reminded of my Finland affinity and Sibelius. A country and academy I’ve vividly dreamed of experiencing and embracing for what seems now like lifetimes. Seasons, I suppose. My Baltic season will come. Word is bond. Mark my words. 

Rakkaus, 

Adam