My friend told me about this iPhone app called Insight Timer. It’s pretty cool. You can see who’s meditating around the world. Like right now, it’s almost 11 p.m. EST and Joe in Mexico is meditating for 24 minutes. Chris in Utah is meditating for 40 minutes. Stephanie in Canada is meditating for 10 minutes. Jon in Portland is meditating for 20 minutes. Chris in New York City is meditating for 60, and so is Gary in Seattle.

I just shared my first meditation with Insight Timer tonight. I set the timer for 10 minutes. It followed a beautiful realization: I don’t need to be Buddha. I’m not a monk. I’m not a nun. I’m not a super strict and insanely disciplined person. I’m me. And my meditation belongs to me.

With this realization, I felt incredibly psyched. Here I am, a certified meditation teacher with over a decade of meditation experience and even produced my own meditation album. But it wasn’t until this moment that I realized, while some days I may enjoy scented candles and relaxing music, other days I don’t need anything other than myself to enjoy my practice.

It was one of those bummer days when I’m longing to break free of the depressed town I’m temporarily living in, and was feeling suffocated by the limitations here. I rented the musical, Guys and Dolls, starring Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando to perk me up. It worked. Instantly, I felt a smile return to my face and my insides grew warm and giddy. As I began to feel tired, I turned the TV off and glanced at my iPhone. Should I check emails? Facebook? Draw myself an angel card – yes, there’s an app for that, too.

I flipped through to the Insight Timer icon and tapped it. How easy is it for me to meditate, right here on the couch? Cuddled under the blanket with the dog nestled beside me. The apartment is quiet. It’s late. Everyone is asleep. I have the space to myself. It doesn’t matter that a candle isn’t lit. It doesn’t matter that incense isn’t burning. It doesn’t matter that I’m sitting on an Ikea couch instead of a Zafu or yoga brick. It doesn’t matter that there’s an LG flat screen in front of me instead of an adorned alter.

I’m in my living room. It’s bedtime. And I want to meditate. I want to experience the bliss of tuning in, even if just for a moment.

So I set the Insight Timer for 10 minutes and joined other people around the world who were also meditating. I closed my eyes and brought my thumb and first finger together and placed them on my lap. I noticed my breath. My soul was so grateful for the time, I felt as if my mind had been temporarily removed and planted next to a tree. My skull felt free of thoughts, free of pressure. The space inside my skull felt beautifully empty, as if all the analytical thoughts, the frustrated thoughts, the fearful thoughts, had just emptied themselves out and I was left with a clear, blank state. It felt as if there was a cave in my head, peaceful and quiet. My entire body began to feel a deep sense of peace. I felt like I was nothing….and everything. I felt connected to the molecules in the air, the couch, the room, the world. I felt oneness. It felt liberating. I felt unlimited.

Then the thoughts started rolling in. Some images invaded my mind. I noticed and detached, sent them away. If I dismiss an image or thought instead of giving it energy, it disappears. Some thoughts were more persistent. They were positive, excited, to-do thoughts. Inspiration coming in because my mind was quiet and receptive. But tonight, I wanted to just be. So I let those thoughts go, too.

I found myself on a boat. I thought how if you sit in meditation and throw a rod out, you’re going to pull in some thoughts. You’ll reel them in and they’ll flop all over your mind, splashing you with all sorts of emotions. But instead of standing at the edge of the boat casting a fishing rod out to the vast sea, waiting to catch something, why not sit with your eyes closed, and just notice what the sea air feels like traveling up your nose? With your body relaxed, gently swaying with the boat, why not notice what the warmth of the sun feels like as it beams on your shoulders?

Clients have asked me how do you hear the divine in meditation? How do you receive inspiration and other worldly contact? I always say, you’ve just got to be receptive. It’s hard to get at first because we live in a world where we’re constantly giving out energy. But meditation is like a day at the beach. You just soak it all in. Before you know it, in this peaceful and quiet place, you may hear the passing of a seagull. And in time, maybe you will even hear precious guidance from a divine source.

But for me, meditation is not a goal, it’s a habit like brushing your teeth. It’s not something I do to get some grand prize out of it, like talking to Jesus. Though I admit, sometimes that’s happened. But many times, it’s as divinely simple as tonight, when I was just a girl on a couch who had a blah day and needed to plug in to that higher state of existence that subtly reminds me in an ever so gentle way just how wonderful life is. And just how perfect my soul is, even when it feels flawed and impatient. Who I am is so much more than what my eyes may see on any given day. Meditation reminds me of that, and how close God is within me. The Insight Timer app showed He’s all around the world, sharing quality time with every gorgeous soul who takes the time to tune in. Even if for only 10 minutes.

I feel incredibly peaceful. And centered. And blessed. And loved. And I’m psyched that I’ve made my meditation time mine – I can do it anytime I want, wherever I want. I can meditate in the bath. I can meditate at a bus stop, or a coffee shop. There are no rules. No right way. It’s a practice, and just like a physical exercise, once you start, you’ll feel so much better after, you’ll find yourself doing it again. And again.

©2011 Lauralyn Harter

Get the Insight Timer app on iTunes and meditate with me!

www.heavenhealingarts.com

Inspiration: Bravery, Courage, Gratitude, Patience, Persistence, Kindness, Service

I was walking my dog the other night and met a young man also walking his. He had a kind face and sparkling blue eyes, an overall sweet energy. He didn’t look a day over eighteen. Our paths had crossed before when walking our dogs. He had a new energetic puppy who was as white and fluffy as a cotton ball. This time, I shared with him that I wasn’t comfortable walking alone at night, and he graciously offered to accompany me while our dogs did their thing. He shared that he recently got married to a girl he met through a friend. I congratulated him. It’s always nice to hear a soldier has found love;  military life can be a very lonely one. While his wife pursued nursing school, he was completing the few months left on his Army contract.

“What do you do in the Army?” I asked.

“I’m Infantry,” he said.

“What do you do there?” I asked, clueless.

He paused for a moment then said, “I kill people.”

My eyes widened.

He shrugged and said, “Sorry to be so frank, but I don’t know how else to say it. That’s what we’re trained to do.”

His kind and sweet demeanor, boyish face and gentle way about him made it challenging for me to visualize him hurting, let alone killing, another person. But, an enlisted soldier can be asked to do whatever is needed, and there isn’t always an option. I could see this young man performing these duties with the protective instinct of keeping his fellow men, and us, safe.

“So, all those bombs I hear going off….?” I waited for him to explain what I had been listening to here for so many months.

“Oh yeah, that’s us practicing,” he said. “Half of us play the bad guys and the other half has to practice being in combat with them. It’s to help prepare us for what we’ll be dealing with when we’re sent over.”

He went on to explain how they perform full drills, involving not only bombs but helicopters and the heavy fire I often hear ricochet through the woods.

“I’m not involved with the training too much anymore, not since I was injured,” he added.

I wanted to know more, but didn’t want to overwhelm him with the hundreds of questions that were bombarding my mind. Instead I asked, “Are you looking forward to getting out?”

“Oh yeah!” he said with relief. “We’re looking at houses in the city.” He reached down to pet his squirming puppy. “We want to get our dog certified as a therapy dog so she could visit nursing homes, hospitals and maybe even help veterans.”

“What a wonderful idea,” I said. I had considered doing this with my Chihuahua, but wasn’t sure her picky temperament would make the best therapy dog. It would have to be on her terms. She’s the kind of dog who would say, “I don’t want to comfort that person because I simply don’t like them.” This guy’s dog, however, seemed to love everyone and everything on it’s path. A little angel dog.

I dropped my dog’s poo bag in the receptacle, and then asked him, “How many tours have you been on?”

“Two.”

My head shifted back with surprise. “Do you mind me asking you how old you are?”

“Not all all. Twenty-three,” he replied, proudly. “I went on my first tour when I was eighteen.”

He had already had multiple surgeries due to injuries he endured in the war. I couldn’t believe this young man I was speaking to was sent to war twice in the line of fire, and he not only survived but was now a war veteran. A twenty-three year old war veteran. He was positive, kind, humble, and thinking of how he could help others. When I thought of what other twenty-three year old men are doing, it really put into perspective just how brave these young soldiers are. It made me think the freedom they’re giving us is not just in the larger sense of protecting our country, but really because this young man chose to go to war, he provides the freedom to another young man to go to college or a safe job at home instead. If it weren’t for the men who are willing to join the military, there is always the possibility of a draft. If I were a guy, and on behalf of the men in my life, I’d send thank you cards to all these servicemen for making sacrifices that most civilians will never realize.

“When people say thank you for all that you do, they really don’t know just how hard the military life is, on so many different levels,” I said, following the footsteps of our dogs.

“They have no idea,” he smiled, a smile that said his service and sacrifices would be kept private, a part of his history that may be shared with his grandchildren if he ever feels inclined to pass on his experiences.

He walked me to my door and gave me his number in case I ever needed anything. “You can call anytime,” he said as he typed his information in my phone. “That’s the kind of people my wife and I are.”

They are special people, people who are naturally inclined to serve, heal and protect. This young soldier mentioned he would use his military benefits to go to college when his contract expires. I envision this do-good couple sharing lots of wisdom, love, comfort and healing in our world. And I’m thankful for them.

©2011 Lauralyn Harter

Give peace a chance

It’s been a while. I’ve been settling into a new home and healing from symptoms of trauma. When the body goes through a shock or major stress or transition, especially if it involved safety in any way, fight or flight kicks in and you just start buzzing through life like a busy bee, dissociating every time something triggers a memory of that reality.

The Crash

For me, once the constant movement stopped, and my body was in one stable place finally (after 8 months of traveling like a nomad), I crashed. I started to really feel the sensations of the trauma. It was highly uncomfortable. I would feel myself check out whenever my mind wandered back to the past or whenever a trigger hit that pain button. Triggers weren’t something I could even prepare for; it could be as obvious as a lit candle, or as confusing as someone touching one of my things, and I’d emotionally check out and go to some numb place in space. I felt like a zombie every time something triggered the trauma. Anything that reminded me of how out of control I had been over the situation, how painful it was to lose my home which was my zen place, how much it hurt to be separated from friends, work and the city I genuinely enjoyed living in, sent me to a distant place where I felt like I was sitting in a hollow egg.

When I thought of how violated I felt by the landlady and her irresponsibility, greed, lack of compassion and flat out evilness, my heart would begin to race. I’d feel hot and angry. I’d feel stuck in terms of how to ever find closure because I knew her heart was closed in this situation. Closure had to come from practicing constant forgiveness and acceptance. I didn’t have to accept her toxicity into my life, but I had to accept what happened. If I kept wanting her to understand and recognize my pain, I’d only feed the negative energy that had been draining me.

As a medium I know that no one truly ever “gets away” with anything here. We will all have to confront our actions when our time is served here, and every soul will see the ripple effects of their actions, for better or worse. Compassion and understanding can heal so much in this world. But when the ego is involved and the spirit is ignored, blame, judgment, hate and so on take place of the peace that could otherwise exist between two people who are hurting.

It gets to a point where it doesn’t matter what stance the “villain” in your life wants to take anymore. You’re just happy for the opportunity to be safe, to feel happy again, to be in a healthier place emotionally, physically and spiritually. Traumas can temporarily rob you of your energy which throws everything off – but the process of healing is a beautiful and empowering one that returns you to the state of grace you originated from.

When Bad Things Happen, Don’t Suck It Up – Heal

There is this belief, where I was raised, that bad things happen and if they happen to you, you just get over it, suck it up, move on. But the reality is no one who believes that ever truly moves on. A lot of times they end up bitter and angry, feeling unfulfilled in life and envious of others. Often, the unhealed pain will affect relationships and the ability to have healthy, loving connections. Sometimes the suppressed pain manifests as a disease that may eventually end your days here.

One of the first things I learned over a decade ago when healing from a life-threatening disease was that unhealed pain does not go away just because you’re away from the original source of pain, or just because time has moved on. So pretending that everything was okay now just because I was 3,000 miles away from the scene of the fire was a lie. Pretending I was okay just because the California State Board of Insurance investigated the fraudulent claim against me made by Farmer’s Insurance (which led to it being dropped) didn’t make me feel any better. And just because I finally had a peaceful place to be again doesn’t mean I felt at peace.

Painful emotions can only healed through a process, and often will require the help of therapists and healers to help make you feel whole again. Emotions can be stubborn. Grief can keep rising up even when you feel you can’t shed another tear. Anger may keep coming to the surface even when you can’t stand that feeling anymore. It’s like washing dirty glass – it make take several cleanings, lots of awareness and TLC to feel sparkling new again, and like you can see and feel clearly.

I do believe there is a divine timing in the process. Without will, healing will never happen. But if you have the will to heal, to forgive, to move on, to see the blessings, then relief will come. One day, the mind, body and spirit wake up and say, “I don’t want to hold on to this anymore. I’m ready to love my life again.”

And just like that, you may feel all that weight of the past lifted, and feel free.

Healing Feels Good

I realized that in order to truly heal, I had to send lots of feel good signals to my brain. You can  do this with chocolate or alcohol or something else that works superficially. I knew I had to do it through self-care, and things that would ground me, not support my emotional escapes. I had to remind myself how loved I am, how worthy I am. The trauma I experienced threatened my life, but I’m still here, and I still have the opportunity to enjoy it. My life counts; it matters; it’s worth something. So I set out on a mission to take the initiative and do things that felt good. Each day, doing or planning something that made me feel good about myself, and good in my body, helped shift me out of the traumatized state and into new feelings of peace and joy.

I’ve personally used Reiki, chiropractic, massage, flower essences, prayer, meditation, nutritional supplements, angelic healing, salon visits and gentle yoga in my healing program and the results have been most positive. I’m being restored! Through this process, I’ve had the opportunity to meet more wonderful healers that exist in the world, feel even more compassion for others, and connect with more spiritual-minded people.

Next Up…

I’m officially saying farewell to this chapter in this blog. No more trauma talk, as it’s being processed out and there’s not much left to share from my soul about it except feelings of gratitude.

From here on out, I will be sharing the sometimes humorous, sometimes boring, sometimes ridiculous adventures of life down South here in this small, military town.

This story does have a happy ending. And you know what it is?

This new beginning.

Give Peace A Chance

Thank God for the special people who help in times of need

Six months, 5 different temporary stays, 12 flights, one 12 hour road trip later and….I finally have a home. I’m not moved in just yet, but the move-in date is right around the corner. I haven’t even seen it yet. It’s been picked out for me, and I am so grateful I surrender all control over the details. I saw photos online and felt warmth and peace, and I knew that was all I needed to know. Everything else was trust. Trust that God was working through people.

It’s been a long, and tiring journey. Being an empath is challenging. Being an empath without personal space is a recipe for disaster. And though I didn’t self-destruct thanks to my spiritual practice, yoga, aromatherapy and the ears of good friends, I did have my moments of overwhelm, exhaustion and shed buckets of tears. Displacement for anyone is a nightmare. Displacement for an empath is incredibly challenging. Towards the end of this journey, I felt I would spontaneously combust if I found myself exposed to any more people or other people’s things. I need my own sanctuary to recharge from the emotions I tend to absorb from the environment I’ve been in.

But I did it. I made it though. All the airports and car rides. All the lugging of my little pink suitcase, rolling up clothes to fit more, living off travel sized toiletries, finding health food stores for my special diet in whatever passing town I found myself in. All the nightmares I had in my sleep. Sometimes returning to the night of the fire. Sometimes dreams of terrorists or something bad happening. The most recurring nightmare was that I found myself wandering streets, looking in through windows at comfortable living rooms, other people’s homes. In the dream, I’d look for my own keys, digging in pockets, only to realize I didn’t have any. I had no where to go. I was homeless and on the streets. When I woke up, I realized that dream was not far from my every day reality. I felt trapped in a bad dream ever since I woke up to a fire in my Santa Monica bungalow last December.

Greed and Fraud in Santa Monica

And then the unthinkable happened: the landlady committed insurance fraud. After the fire, she was desperate to cover the costs of repair. She was angry her property had been damaged. Instead of taking responsibility for not keeping her promise to replace the wonky drying machine in the first place, which she hand wrote on my lease, she decided to frame me. She researched my website and saw that I sometimes use aromatherapy oils in my healing practice. She then shoved oily rags into the drying machine so when the insurance adjuster came to view the scene, they found evidence that they felt was enough to charge me with the bill. The landlady, insurance company and bill collections agency that followed all ignored the official fire report that contained the truth: there were dry sheets in the dryer the night of the fire and that the cause was a mechanical issue, not human error. To add insult to injury, the bill collectors response to my explaining the truth of the matter was: “Oh, yeah, right…YOU’RE GUILTY!”

Imagine your life turned upside down because of a cheap, inexperienced landlady who now was framing you and then being judged by some cowardly woman on a phone line determining your guilt by the amount of dollar signs she’ll make out of the deal. This entire situation has been one extended experience with intimidation by bullies – I just can’t stand them. They do nothing but spread stress, fear, pain and negativity in this world, from the little bullies-in-training at elementary schools, to the larger bullies that blew up the World Trade Center. They’re nothing more than unhappy cowards trying to overpower others in an effort to feel self-important and create a mirage of self-esteem.

While the landlady was concocting this plan, which was unbeknownst to me at the time, she intimidated me into signing a legal contract promising I wouldn’t sue her. She had devised what she thought was the perfect plan. She could blame me, and get away with it without the fear that I would sue her for what could have been millions in damages considering the facts of what happened, what I lost and the physical and emotional distress that ensued.

At first, the landlady acted cordial to me and promised she’d have a move back date as soon as she knew from the construction crew. When she became informed by the City of Santa Monica that it was the landlord’s responsibility to pay for my relocation fees, the landlady changed her tune. She didn’t want to pay my hotel costs. She suggested I find someplace to stay. When I told her I had nowhere to stay in L.A., she cut off communication with me. Red Cross tried to inform her of the law and get her to pay, but she refused to cooperate. The next thing I knew, she was giving me 3 days to vacate my bungalow, which led to my homelessness. She then used the insurance money to fix the damage and sold the property for a million dollars. Sometimes I wonder how her past six months have been. The relief she must have felt selling the property that hadn’t been the money maker she had hoped for. Her home being unaffected, her job remaining stable, her life unchanging as she zipped around the palm tree lined streets of Santa Monica in her Mercedes. All the while here I was, career opportunities lost, homeless, flying back and forth across the country sleeping on couches and sharing beds in small spaces, suffering from post traumatic stress and losing sleep, my life changed forever.

Love and Support from Everywhere

During this incredibly tough time, I received supportive cards, texts and phone calls from friends and good wishes from Facebook friends. I thank God for The Red Cross that first week of homelessness for providing a place for me to stay and some cash for food. I continued on with the only job I had left that I could do anywhere: provide intuitive medium readings. I gave phone sessions from hotel rooms and the homes of friends and families. It has been a job that has kept me connected to a higher state of thinking and feeling, and kept me grounded. I’m very thankful for it, and to my teacher, Doreen Virtue. Never would I have guessed that such a job, that I don’t reveal to most I meet, would be such a blessing during a dark time. Every time I provided a reading to someone, it reminded me that everyone is struggling with their own challenge, and everyone has the power to rise above and is divinely helped to do so. Spiritual counseling connects both people to healing, that’s the beauty of it.

Healing The Past

For so long, I’ve wanted justice. I’ve asked myself a million times how someone could be so cruel. I know there are cruel people in this world who do awful things out of fear, greed and selfishness, I just find it so frustrating. I firmly believe life doesn’t have to be so ugly if people would just do the right thing, live in integrity, have a freaking heart. I’ll never forget the night of the fire when I called her to let her know what was happening and she arrived a short time later and shot the most hateful look at me as I stood shivering and in shock, grasping my scared chihuhua on the street corner. She never even asked if I was okay. It’s just not human to be so angry, to lack such compassion at a time like that. If I would have died, which I almost did that night, she wouldn’t have thought twice about my disappearance from this earth. She would have just been stressing about the money she lost. Her behavior following the fire was heartless: sending me a vacate order on Christmas Day. Threatening me in all sorts of ways. Sending me condescending and intimidating emails. Even keeping my deposit and just leaving me with two weeks rent in my pocket. She was nothing more than a bully, using my shock and vulnerability at the time to work in her favor.

It is true that what goes around comes around, and the universe has very clever ways of righting wrongs. The hatred this woman has in her heart is causing her own suffering. I think she experienced her own trauma in the past that she never healed, which is why she cruises through life so cold, manipulative and detached. Unhealed pain and suffering only leads to more in this world. It’s like a virus that spreads. The greatest thing we could do for the planet is heal any anger, any resentment we have and pump up the amount of love we feel for ourselves and humanity. Even when humanity acts less than Godlike, He still made these souls and I have to trust that he made them for a reason that wasn’t intended to hurt us, but to help us learn.

Life Lesson

The lesson here I’m recognizing the most is the importance of placing human life above material things. In the end, when you die and have your life review, you will not be regretting an expensive home that you bought or missing some designer dress you wore. What you will regret is treating people callously, mistreating any living thing at the expense of your own greed or selfishness. Most of all, you will miss the opportunity you had here on earth to make things right.

©2011 Lauralyn Harter

What if where you're going is more beautiful than where you've been?

I was sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle having an honest conversation with the person I’m dating. Honest about how the military has affected him – dividing him into who he really is, and who they want him to be. Who they want him to be is not who he wants to be. This conflict was affecting our relationship so over a glass of Malbec, surrounded by tea drinking Mac enthusiasts with laptops open, and the quiet backdrop of city traffic, a tear rolled down his cheek and I wondered why life has to be so filled with drama and conflict. These life lessons can be so tiring sometimes.

That night, as emotions got resolved and we both felt heard, a familiar song came on just before closing time. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A moving song that had been the soundtrack to my yoga training. Exactly one year at this very same time that I was sitting in this coffee shop in Seattle, I had been undergoing an intense 24+ hours of yoga training a week in Santa Monica to receive my teacher’s certification. Early mornings, yeast-free bagels and eggs, hours of deep breathing and sun salutations, theory and practice. All of these memories rushed back. This one song, in this one moment, just as they were mopping the coffee shop floor, brought back feelings and images – brought me back in time. I was making a transition in my life. I was expanding my world. I was pushing myself beyond my limits. I was learning. I was making a fresh new start.

And here, one year later, I was in a coffee shop in Seattle, far from palm trees and sunny days, feeling thwarted off my path, talking to someone who I didn’t even know existed one year ago.

I ran up to the counter and said to the man behind it, “I’m having a moment – do you know who sings this song?”

I didn’t have to explain any more. He held up his finger, disappeared behind the swinging door and appeared a few seconds later with the answer. Finally. 12 months later and I knew who sang the song that inspired the seasons when a long awaited dream of receiving my yoga certification came true. Fourteen years to be exact.

Now here I am, in another transition. I’ve been in one for five months. I can’t seem to break free of it since my landlady booted me out when my bungalow caught on fire due to a mechanical issue with the drying machine. Ever since then, I feel like Alice, having fallen asleep to a strange world that doesn’t make sense to me. It’s called The South, and the military, and for the first time in my life not feeling quite sure exactly what I should do next.

I do know that I love the West Coast and I belong here, but timing feels all screwy right now. My mental trap is returning to the past. The opportunities lost. The friends I’m far away from. The stability I worked so hard for to rebuild after my divorce. When you have a new life to replace the old it’s so much easier to move on. But if you’re still in lingo, the mind wanders, like a dog returning to familiar territory.

I need new memories. Good ones. Really good ones.

I’ve had them here in Washington. I dread leaving. I bought my plane ticket to New York City today. I leave next week. I have to go back – the Army is booting us out. It was only a temporary stay. Now he’ll go back down South and I’ll stay up East for a while. Living kinda like a gypsy. Forcing myself to surrender my type A ways. Trying to embrace the freedom of this time – it doesn’t have to feel like I’m trapped if I just see how free I really am. I can hang out with friends in NYC and make one of the many performances I’ve been missing. I can buy a ticket back to L.A. and stay with friends there for a weekend, chilling in wine bars or outdoor cafes. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have a ton of responsibility looming over my head. Maybe this is my Eat, Pray, Love moment.

I think of a bridge I saw recently on Whibey Island. I posted a picture in this blog. I meditated on that when I was there. Thinking of transitions. It’s scary when you feel you may fall off the map of your life at times. Or take the wrong path. But what if where you’re going is more beautiful than where you’ve been?

Is that where my path is leading?

Is my life a sort of revolution?

“We’ve come so far, it feels so real.
All this time, that we’ve waited for it.
And who we are, and where we’re going to.
All this time, preparing for it.

umh, come so far.
umh, come so far.

So let me know when we get there, if we get there.
Let me know when we get there, if we get there.

In the dark it, feels so, real.
And all this time, we’ve been sleeping on it.
And who we are, and what we’re going, through.
All this time, spent saving for it.

umh, come so far.
umh, come so far yeah.

So just let me know when we get there, if we get there.
Let me know when we get there, if we get there.

Come so far, there’s no going back.
All this time, we’ve been running from it.
And where we are, and where we’re going to.
We’ll organise a sort of revolution.”

-Sort of a Revolution by Fink