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Under Pressure

Pressure is defined as the use of persuasion, influence or intimidation to make someone do something. It’s the last stand for our human realities. The precipice before it starts to crumble. When we start to feel the squeeze, a somber sobriety kicks in. We could call it the “sandwich effect.” When we squeeze one end the tension moves to other parts. The feelings become visceral.

We thought we knew the feeling of pressure. But like many other things, we would come to understand an entirely different meaning of the word. The pressure to leave coupled with the human aspect’s desire to stay is disorienting. Not to mention the pressure to squeeze ourselves back into realities that don’t fit. It’s akin to getting off the merry-go-round while our foot is stuck in the holster. For a while, we keep looping around until the pain of staying outweighs the fear of pulling free.

Our higher aspects understand why all things were created. They understand why Path A was chosen over Path B and the mayhem that ensued. But for a while that’s not our “point of view.” That’s not the witness to our events. When our journey to consciousness begins our audience is our human. That’s our casual viewer. The one that is reading or not reading the signs. The one that is not present.

It’s the plucky side kick. The part of us that believes it’s more important than it actually is. That its actions are pivotal to the plot. In reality, our humans’ finest moments will be left on the cutting room floor. We came, we saw, we conquered and we literally destroyed everything in our way, even each other. Those were our aggressive moments. Our passive aggressive moments allowed others to conquer for us and we followed behind. Either way the pressure to participate was immense.

There are no coincidences. Clichés are not clichés for nothing. There are no “bad” signs. Everything activates something inside of us. All that glitters is not gold. But we believed it was. We forgot we were diamonds and pretended to be rhinestones. Even more jarring, we did it again, again and again. The more the pressure mounts the more our diamond aspects start to shine. Then the pressure cooker truly begins.

That is why consciousness is so jarring. We start to see the most destructive species on the planet is us. When we live from our human/ego aspect we value nothing, not even ourselves. Consciousness comes when all else fails. That’s the only time we allow it. When are linear illusions start to fade and the stories we told ourselves prove to be untrue, we are left with the great epiphany.

We all know the one. The one that starts and ends with “why?” Why didn’t it work? Why doesn’t it make sense? Why do things have to end? Our human will always be stuck in the pressure of understanding “why.” That’s the illogical mind of our human. Asking a question that would never render an acceptable answer.

The “Why?” moments should never be underestimated. They are passageways. Portals to our real purposes. The stories behind the “why” will differ, but we have all felt that emptiness of the word. What comes next are the false start moments. The instant we realized the escape tunnel we dug was only entrenching us in more. There’s no fault in those failed exodus attempts. We honestly had forgotten how to withdraw. We wanted a sprint. We got a marathon.

Our human realities were built like escape rooms. They morphed as we did. There was even a time limit on the rooms. If we didn’t figure them out in “time”, we got pulled out. There would be no rhyme nor reason why some of the rooms mattered, while others didn’t. The extraction of our human realities is not pleasant. But it is inevitable. Our human ride eventually stops. We were never meant to ride in perpetuity.

The question of “Why?” will delay us. The question of “When?” will define us. When will the immense pressure to leave be stronger than the immense pressure to stay? That is the real question. Perhaps the answer itself doesn’t matter. The simple fact that the question exist is enough. That’s the ironic thing about questions.


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