the harvest of intention, by annie kate
by annie kate jones
a reflective journal entry on being your own catalyst in the midst of uncertainty
For unto us, a river is born. For unto us, we are born into the lives in which we visualize. For unto us, the vibrations we carry are seen in others. In which case, we attract what we emit. I want to talk about how love is worked for — and how it is never too late. Too often we imagine ourselves through the lenses of scarcity. I do not want to do that anymore. Especially in my relationships — the one I hold with myself and with those around me.
I look up and I see the vessels and creatures and colors and sound and wind that I have ignored. Too often we over complicate the truth. Truth is around. It is the inhalation and exhalation of the trees — they breathe as we do. Love is always on its way. There is great love here for you.
Perhaps we commit great acts of treason against ourselves, against inherent simplicity, only to come home and find that complexity is disharmonious. It is not in our DNA to over complicate things — so we mustn’t, we must do our best to eradicate the wedge between our weighted selves and the beingness of a child simply seeking joy. We must find it in ourselves to ride the wave of calm through hardship; though extreme sadness and fear may wash over us, we must cling to the truth that we are enough, that we have enough, that love is always around, and that we are only inches away from finding the next crumb of truth along the beautiful trail we are all on.
New desires radiate from us on an hourly basis. We are on the cusp of overflowing change at any moment. Our hopes manifest from vibration to thought — throughout this whole life. We are not here to exist as solely dreamers. We are here to analyze, choose, speak, and move. We must strive to be non-physically focused, simply aware of where we stand — in the hub of time — in conjunction with what we have asked for: catapults of desire all the way to the moon. We mustn’t be focused on things that we cannot hear yet — or feel or see — we must be focused on what we want to feel and practice feeling that with or without the physical stimuli. We can hope for more love, we can hold it in our hearts and choose to see it, even when it may feel absent in a physical sense. We are the proprietors and gardeners of bringing forth tidal waves of what we want. We cannot waste our lives sitting on our hands.
"We cannot waste our lives sitting on our hands."
We have the option: to fly to the moon or not. Life is not about placement, or geography, or title, or money — it is the heart in which you engage with those things — the love you grow along way that is the undertow of everything you choose for yourself. Life may invite you into more, life may invite you into depth. Some of us may choose not to move in the direction in which we are being invited. The common choice amongst our culture is to remain standstill and “unscathed”, therefore we accept it as the norm. But I propose a different story; no matter where you are, no matter who you are, I propose we contend for what is not real yet. You don’t feel it? Get up, climb a tree, hike a mountain, paint something from the outskirts of your mind, bring your mother a bouquet of wild white roses. The more you elect for the emotions you want to feel, the more you will have those things in excess.
What are we being invited towards? Are we saying yes or no? The vibrational pulls of what we want, we can choose to believe in. Just like a farmer believes in his or her crops. He doesn’t doubt, because he has knowledge of the seeds’ anatomy. The vibration of doubt and the vibration of desire are different distributions. Whatever we want, we can have. But we must contend in the direction of it — or else doubt will cause us disarray and dismantlement.
You are here for the purpose of joy. There is supposed to be ease — mourning and fretting do not have to be the commodity and societal song — like most humans believe. Be determined to find friendship with the laws of the universe. You can contend for what you want. Do we want to look towards where the energy is flowing? Or are we averting attention from it because we are afraid there will not be enough for us on the other side? That’s a trick question. If you want there to be enough for you on the other side, if you want there to be a bounty, a cornucopia of blessing, guess what? There will be. But you must plant it in your mind. You must cook the meal. Your hands buried in a pile of eggy flour. Your hands warmed by the oven as the casserole bakes. You must be a willing vessel: willing to carry your desire (whatever that may be) to whole fruition. Nothing is accomplished through a scarcity mindset. Only a full, positive one.
The physical right in front of you — what you want to work out — let’s contend and celebrate it until it is bursting with color. Do not stay in bystander mode! If you need to see something happen before you feel enthusiasm, that limbo will hold you back. There is a steady evolution of everything we want, we just have to allow ourselves to experience the full awareness that things will work out for us.
"There is a steady evolution of everything we want, we just have to allow ourselves to experience the full awareness that things will work out for us."
Turning thoughts to things. Do we want this? Yes? Let’s work for it. The same properties and equations will follow us everywhere we go. Circumstantially, nothing will change unless we rewire our headspace — unless we start throwing parties for our joys. Not fearing that they might not be good enough. You have to harvest and plant joy in order for something to become; you cannot wait for something to actualize prior to planting, believing, and harvesting. You just have to do it.
I want to find a way to find joy in the process of my life becoming. Because there will always be new things in our pipelines, we must occupy the posture of receiving goodness no matter where we are. Only then are our lives how we intend and hope for them to be; in a state of love, despite trivialities — always working for the next level of strength and endurance.
We don’t have to go it alone or prove ourselves worthy. That isn’t how it works. I am an extension of perfect love — and that perfect love is what I want to learn about my whole life. I want my physical senses to help lead me towards more of what I am after as a part of this collective, universal family. I declare that I will discover, find, and evolve. But I must be open. I must try my hardest to not occupy the path of resistance; the path of tight clutches. I must breathe and let my palms rest open. I must be a pioneer of the next edge in my life. That does not mean a literal edge, it just means being willing to listen to the winds of change without fearing them too much. They host infinite answers — often answers we did not expect.
"But I must be open. I must try my hardest to not occupy the path of resistance; the path of tight clutches. I must breathe and let my palms rest open. I must be a pioneer of the next edge in my life."
Nothing in you is broken, nothing in you needs fixing. We are not here to save the world. We are here to bring to light what is already present — in ourselves and right in front of us. Do not run, do not run from love or anything that is calling your name. What do you want? Say it out loud. Contend for it. Do not fall prey to the idea that it will “just happen.” Another thing: we don’t get to see the whole picture all at once. We get flashes of color, we receive sunbeams of hope in the process of moving forward. Cling to those and uncover more of the painting as you go. Have deliberate ambition to make it so. Focus, intention, satisfaction.
Annie Kate Jones, Writer + Artist
Annie Kate is a magical realism writer, memory-preservation poet, and visual artist currently residing in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She is fond of reminding others of their inherent lightness through her triad of traits. You can find her hiking very small "mountains" in Tulsa, riding her bike around town with her beloved partner, inventing a questionable new recipe in her kitchen, or taking a catnap in a patch of sunlight.