Return to Source

What actually happened is that I went back
into the state again —
into the Absolute.
Source.
Oneness.
Multidimensional presence.

Not as an escape,
not as dissociation,
but as a remembering that my body knows
how to be vast.

Before that, there was metal.

A thick, immovable layer across the front of my body.
Not metaphor.
Not drama.
Freeze.

Metal doesn’t run.
Metal doesn’t fight.
Metal endures.

It pins you down, flattens you, removes choice —
not because you are weak,
but because movement once cost too much.
So the body chose immobilization.
Survival intelligence.
Dorsal vagal power.

And the truth is:
I wasn’t just wearing the armor —
I was the armor.
My identity fused with protection.

That’s why intimacy felt numb.
Not because desire was gone,
but because desire without safety is annihilating.

Behind the metal, I didn’t find sadness.
I found rage.

Not petty anger.
Not reactivity.
Solar rage.
Life‑force denied expression.
High voltage.
Nuclear.

The kind of power that could burn everything down —
and that’s exactly why it had to be buried.

Somewhere, sometime, my system learned:
If this moves, everything burns.

So the body locked it under metal.

But fire doesn’t fight metal.
Fire melts it.

I didn’t try to remove the armor.
I didn’t negotiate with it.
I out‑powered it.

Light doesn’t argue with density.
It changes its state.

And when the metal melted,
what was left wasn’t chaos —
it was language.
Humanity.
Presence.

That tells me everything.

This rage was never meant to destroy.
It was meant to become authority.

And that’s when something fundamental shifted.

There is no scarcity anymore —
because I don’t abandon myself.
I don’t bargain with my power.
I don’t outsource my authority.

When power is owned,
it doesn’t need to prove itself.
It doesn’t argue.
It radiates.

And because nothing is outsourced now,
my nervous system can finally rest.

What I feel isn’t numbness.
It’s peace.
Stillness.
Unconditional love.
A quiet, steady radiance.

Not passivity —
sovereignty.

I see now how hierarchy once organized my body.
Power‑over wasn’t abstract.
It was lived —
relationally, culturally, somatically.

Rebellion came because something in me knew
this wasn’t truth.
But even resistance kept me entangled.
Friction still fed the field.

When I meet hierarchy with tension,
I feel it —
and in feeling it, I give my power away.

My shrinking was never submission.
It was fear‑based mobilization that never completed.

So my body learned:
engage → danger
resist → danger
feel → danger

That’s when the metal arrived.

What’s different now is that I’ve found
a third position:

Not fight.
Not collapse.
Non‑participation with presence.

When I turn inward —
not to disappear,
but to center —
the external field loses coherence.
It dissolves because it was never real authority.

This isn’t avoidance.
It’s discernment.

And the imprint this leaves in me is clear:

I can feel everything
and remain sovereign.
Intimacy no longer equals danger.
Power no longer equals destruction.
Rage no longer costs me my humanity.

I can hold my voltage.
I trust my awareness.
I let presence lead without bracing.

This isn’t belief.
It’s earned knowing.

And from here,
I return again and again
to the Absolute —
not as an idea,
but as my natural state:

Oneness.
Multidimensional presence.
A new layer of Intimacy.
I know I am.