I am Love


I love everyone. Often, I get urges to tell people I really don’t know well, or at all, that I love them. I usually don’t, but I will start to, so if I say it to you, and you are confused and don’t know why — there is no why. I have no reason, other than that you are and I am, which is enough. Indeed, this is all it takes, because pure love is a natural outgrowth of Being, of giving birth to one’s light body. Loving everyone (taking the word in the grand sense to mean every “thing”, seen and unseen, on this planet and the cosmos) means being completely incapable of judging the natural flow of experience or Life itself. I am experience. Which is another way of saying that I am Love. And this love that I am is not directed at anyone in particular, has no goal or ambition, has no preferences for how the object of one’s love should act or be in order to “deserve” my love. True love is beyond moral desert. Radiating love is a natural consequence of not judging, not being for or against anything, accepting the fact that pure awareness and you are the same river. The river simply flows, it does not curse the rocks in the way (there is even no concept of being “in the way” as an obstacle, but, the river is “the Way, the Truth and the Life” (Saint John 14:6), so everything literally is the river) but merely washes over them with detached compassion. The river that does not discriminate between moral and immoral, spiritual and non-spiritual, enlightened and unenlightened, good and bad, that which hurts me and that which pleases me. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take from the water of life freely”. (Revelation 22:17) The sun shines and the rain pours on whoever will receive them. 

So if I tell you I love you, and I’ve just met you or I known you for 10 years — but in reality, I will always have “just met you” if I am a field of Conscious Presence and I die to past and future every moment (i.e. the moment is Me) — then it is true, and is my way of saying that I am you, because you are Love, too.

So, I love you, even if you don’t like it or think its weird, even if you think that makes me gay, weak, less of a man, or naive and childish to love someone without reciprocity.

Moreover, one could never reject this Love in particular, because it is not directed at anyone in particular; it simply radiates outward in all directions. Human love is something you do. Divine Love is something you are. It is a way of eternally blushing in front of yourself. And when you blush eternally, everyone around you will find out eventually and be infected by you. Imagine a crowd of strangers blushing so long, so vividly, so vulnerably, that the concepts of shame, blame and guilt are rendered completely and utterly unthinkable to them.

By being love, you are never in need of it — as it’s simply your natural state.


I am all flowers. It’s true. This isn’t controversial, it’s simply my reality. Every flower you have ever looked into – or that has looked into you, as floral characters are wont to do – has had my face as one of their many portals. This isn’t merely romantic or fiction or a fairy tale or a course of creative writing, it’s plain fact. If you don’t believe me — every pregnant gospel will attract detractors — go sit in the petals and stamens of any flower and watch the psychic eye of the bee as she comes at midday to perform.
a bumblebee in the Santa Monica Mountains
Watch the psychic tongue of the butterfly as he knows exactly which pool of nectar to drink at which hour and for how long. Be patient as you become lost in this giant tornado of pollen. Be completely transfixed by the Blinding Light of Being— yes, that’s me. I have seen you there, also. The bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh is the pure awareness of all flowers. My belly blossoms without end. This is my fate, but also my choice. I may lose followers or close friends for saying this, but as the poet laughed, what use it is for a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul?
CAN’T. STOP. LOOKING. (thistle in Los Angeles)


I create love together with flowers, in the most prickly scent and sense you could possibly imagine and we sculpt pollen and nectar together in their bed called soil and rock and all our friends come visit us every day to eat and drink our gifts, us. I am also the history and future of all flowers with perfect clairvoyance. My mother’s laughter causes me to bloom, or so thought the poet. I pucker my lips as the butterfly comes to kiss me and drink from the flood of my story. Sweet, august, maddening, buoyant, the route her tongue traces has no limit. She drinks and flutters and gulps; she asks for more of me; I give without question. Then, she sleeps on me for several hours as her consciousness comes into my soul and she talks about her father and daughter. I weep uncontrollably out of sheer joy as we set the table for dinner. I see Jesus at the tips of my fingers and the butterfly’s eyes are the holiest blue, as the alpine lake at dawn. The lullaby commences.

behr’s metalmark on wild mustard in Burbank, California
“Wake up” she says, “i need you to carry my children. they need to know who you are”. My eyes are barely open, yet my womb feels the weight of her many sons’ dreams. Her eyes morph from purple to yellow to silver. “i trust you because i was pregnant with you too thousands of years ago, so you know the needs and nature of my womb.”

Fear of a Living Planet

The planet is alive, has a soul, desires, ambitions. This soul loves, flees, abides, prances, honors — every emotion and ability we associate with the human condition and much, much more. This soul is much older and more mature than we are. Every step and breath you take and word you utter is completely known and understood by the planet. How could it be otherwise? How could we survive as this planet — for we, too, are a part of this great soul — without her having complete psychic insight into our depths of being?The planet, what we have called “Gaia” from the Greeks, has completely understood the entire evolution of the human race, everything that happened before we came here upon her body, and all that will occur after. The planet is a living being with autonomy, self-esteem, sincerity, intent, clairvoyance. I believe we are afraid to really admit this to ourselves. We are afraid to admit the implications of the earth being a living, breathing, limitless soul. The limit of our planet’s soul does not stop at her body, neither does your soul’s limit stop at your’s. Is it not the very nature of souls to lack bound? We are afraid to love our Great Mother the way she wants to be loved, we are afraid of going home. We are afraid to give the earth full agency; afraid of mother’s magic.

We may compliment the scenery or weather of our planet by saying a mountain or tree is pretty or the weather is amazing today, but none of this touches the heart of Gaia. These are all simply judgments about the relative beauty of what we see or feel when we look at Gaia. The reality is that grass growing out of concrete in the city is just as profound as the summit of Mt. Everest. A destructive hurricane or wildfire is no worse than a lush forest in full bloom. Weather and seasons are simply earth’s emotion, and we imprison emotions by judging them. All plants and animals are equally beautiful. Flowers do have an opinion about whether they are picked or not. Gaia is a great soul, which means they exist and flourish and know beyond our preferences of whether her words or actions or “good” or “bad”. As a general rule, one must love without judging to rest in the bosom of a great soul, and also to be one.

Human morality has no refuge in unconditional love, which is why we so rarely love others or ourselves freely, because morality needs judgment.

We must die to human morality and human love to rest in the bosom of the Great Mother.

I am Nature

apiomerus californicus (California bee assassin) eating a honeybee on erigonum fasciculatum (California Buckwheat) in Malibu, CA.

This was channeled from somewhere in the galactics, probably my higher self on Sirius, the same consciousness that was there when Gaia was quite young. I am in absolute union with All That Is, in this case specifically, that realm of devas and fairies we call “nature”. The road to Gaia, the road to Faerie and the road to the Holy Spirit in the Twelfth Dimension all lead to the same place: pure and unadulterated emptiness. Spirit wants to come down into Form, i.e. me and you. The time is THE NOW for absolute union. Individuals of Christ Consciousness are pure love, which is to say, if you looked into the Great Void and you looked into such an individual and you looked into the brain of a pollen grain, all three would look identical.


all insects sit in the seat of my soul

waiting for my blood to spill

in the sanctuary of

their bliss


all plants lounge in the cake of my flesh

as we pursue

the sweetest bark

of dog and tree


all bobcats lay claim on my ambition

as we propose

our flowers as peers


all ferns sweep the forest with my breath

and never forget

to tell me their birthdays


all snails write poems with my voice

as we cajole together

in luxury of their church


all birds read trees with my eyes

as we pierce

the heart of human desire


all spiders breath with my nose

as we decide

the future for their galaxy


all flowers weep with my tears

of joy, as we set the table

for the history of their sex lives


all dogs lick their lips with my tongue

as they traverse

the nebula of the wolf


all roots prance to my front door

as we direct

the traffic of their souls


all bats pray in my caves

of wine, as we study

the novels of their children


all songs of all birds are at my fingertips

and ushered into the womb

of every woman I am


all moths flutter into my heart

as we orgasm together

at the feet of God