The Dangling Carrot of Destiny
What does it take to believe in yourself?
Carrot is God.
Carrot, the Divine Power and Force provider, instills perambulation in my humble feet to soak them in jostle juice, propelling me forward and toward the final destination of my spiritual and workable thinkystuffs. The staple and the fruit of, though Carrot be vegetable, entices, beguiles, and bewitches me to stroll, and run, and jet, and motor, charged with the Fuel of pure Carrotaide™, the elixir of motivational meanderings through fields of pushback made weak when pressed against the majesty of Carrot.
Carrot sets me on the path and in the correct and intuitive row.
Carrot, glinting on the horizon with the orange glow of a reward bestowed upon me if only I would follow. Follow my heart, follow my tickling giggle of an idea, follow the call to curiosity.
Follow Carrot.
Through Carrot’s trail of scented possibility, I see the path of my future, dangling as it does in front of me in ghostly luminosity and spectral fluorescence. Carrot is an orange hue of must do and come this way if you want to live.
In you, oh blessed Carrot, I feel the blinding beacon of the promise in me. You are my undivided and total attention at the end of the grindstick of the work. You are eyes turning toward and averting from the beauty of. The gobsmacking Wowset on the horizon of this, my magnificent life.
Attention is elusive, yet through you my work and passion shine brightly as a mandarin sun at the rise of planet consciousness, seeking eyeballs of acceptance and hearts of wanting. Carrot is the crunch of my potential caught in the teeth of all those who would eat my works. From heart, from out, from body, the flesh of the mind stretched and melted into the goo of our dream smeared upon the holy peel of Carrot.
Carrot is the engine of urge. Carrot is the string tugging me toward the future. Carrot is the pull of another string at my back to wind me up to churn toward that inevitable future and take hold of it. Carrot is persuasion, risk, and reward swinging at the end of the stick of sanity and jiggling at the promise of discovery.
Those who seek, seek Carrot.
Carrot is God.
Oh, mighty Carrot, you see before you a humble pea. All snap and sass, I exit my soul shell to exist within your realm to cement our perfect and present union.
Together. It is as it should be.
We are together. Now. Existing in the harmonious beat of our exaltation slapping at the air as wings of a mighty bird soaring in our ancestral skies. We are a confluence of praise and imperfection made as one. My heart swells with the song of your encouragement, strung upon the lines of love and served up as sheets of simpatico.
To co-exist is to accept Carrot and the harmony of the crop circle of life.
I do.
To co-sign the acceptance of the imperfection of the soil in which we attempt to grow, Person Pea and God Carrot. The snow of my confidence falls softly upon the Kingdom of Carrot. In this, Carrot’s earthly realm, this Garden of Freedom, I hang from my vine of incredible imperfection, while aligned with the row of my God, Carrot.
My envious green is complimented by the orange of divine intervention, encouraging me, guiding me to the high trellis of wonder so that we may stretch tendrils toward new areas, new passions, new works, and new people—together.
The words of Carrot say we reach maturity by allowing ourselves to grow along with others in our proximity and sharing our light. Community. Shared social sanity. The touch of one another in both love and adoration. Existence thrives in the communal garden in the Kingdom of Carrot. I exist in harmonious tong and bong and ong, a long and harmonious note ringing upon a scale most pleasant, boiling with orange steam in a state of blanched readiness.
Those who thrive in this garden, do so with Carrot one row over.
Carrot is God.
Carrot, true and joyous healer of our precious sight, thou hast bestowed upon me the ability to see the world for what it is. I thank thee, oh Heavenly Ophthalmologist with a practice on every corner that always takes my insurance, for providing the option to believe or not to believe. When you are with me, I am enriched with the vision beta-carotene and blessed with second sight which is better than first sight because first sight stands closer to the jaws of “Devoured by Delusion.”
Life is dark. Carrot is light. Light to see the traps and trust pits, light to shine upon lies told by those suffering from acute Vitamin A deficiency. Through you, I shun that shared fever dream, sold on the corner by charlatans to those who deny the existence of Carrot.
Some will tell you Carrot cures blindness. Carrot cautions us against this belief while pointing to the lesson of this rumor.
“What is vision?” says Carrot, “What is vision if not the ability to look hopelessness in its face and blind oneself to that crushing despair, choosing to believe in the wonder of the world and humanity’s ability to fix and change and self-correct? To see right from wrong. To know one’s role in it. To slice away the yellowing skin of cowardice and fear and to continue. To choose faith.”
I see it. Fear at the lid of my shy-away blink. Life at the edge of the vitamin mine. With Carrot, I look into the pit of it. I reach out and touch Carrot.
Those who see clearly wear Carrot-colored glasses.
Carrot is God.
Carrot, in you I acknowledge all misspellings of your interpretations and understand the one true value in that false Carat value system is that it has no value and yet is also weirdly, invaluable.
To hold Carrot’s teachings in my heart is to recognize that it is I who have value. True Carrot currency is not weighing my value against the carob seed to announce 1 carat, 10 carat, infinite carat. False prophecy is a weight that sinks the soul, so to find my value I must produce a life with substance.
My lord Carrot, please afford me the power of creating work with value, and weight, and meaning so that I may value myself. Love myself. Be my own Carrot.
“Value is not judged by size but by the weight of your ethereal bliss.”
So sayeth Carrot.
“Soul calculators do not compute cost, only expression and the richness of joy.”
So sayeth Carrot. I praise you, and your words.
“Your value is not defined by me, nor is it measured in Carrot.”
So sayeth Carrot. Hallowed by my Carrot.
“No. I am not your God. Trust no Carrots. And you are not Carrot, either.”
I am not Carrot?
“No. You are Gem.”
God is Grate!(able.)
See you at the word salad bar.
Yours in tiny thought,
Janeen
Go behind the scenes of this post
This week’s amends…
"See enough and write it down, I tell myself. And then some morning, when the world seems drained of wonder, some day when I’m going through the motions of doing what I am supposed to do… On that bankrupt morning, I will simply open my notebook and there it will all be, a forgotten account with accumulated interest. Paid passage back to the world out there. It all comes back. Remember what it is to be me."- Joan Didion
On Rotation: “United States of Whatever” by Liam Lynch
Drop everything. Watch this.
I adore this account.
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