Arithmetic
Beloveds, what is there that I have not said? I repeat Myself. I stir your heart. I cheer you on.
Do you think I ask a lot of you? I ask little. I ask that you feel loved and that you give love. I ask you to be My agent on Earth. I ask you to represent Me. I ask you to love My creation as if it were your own. I ask you to take care of yourself and the world where you live. I ask you to be good-natured. I ask you to respond to all in hearing distance. I ask you to be calm and be of a good cheer.
I ask you to ameliorate the world. I ask you to beat to the rhythm of My heart. I ask you to be happy and happiness to give.
I ask you to learn and to grow and to live life in good grace.
I ask you to dance in place in the center of My heart, and to partner with Me in the center of My heart which is the dance floor of the life you live. Thrum to the beat of My heart, for it is yours. I give it to you. I give you My heart as a precious jewel to care for. I ask you to not keep it private, but to reveal it to all in the land. I ask you to give and to receive, to receive and to give and know not the difference.
You do not know where My heart begins and ends, nor do you know where the heart in your chest and the heart in a seeming another begin and end, for there is a continuity that takes no breach.
There is one pulse in the Universe, and it pulses now. Feel My heart. Feel yours. This is the pulse of the Universe. This throb in your heart beats for all that is or ever was or will ever be. Your heart pulses for Me, as Mine pulses for you.
You have thought you were separate from Me and Mine. You thought you were one dot printed on a fabric of many dots. All the seeming dots run into one another. Separation doesn't exist. It seems to. You were taught separation. You were taught that there is yours, and there is Mine. In truth, you are My My-ness. There is one gene in the Universe, and it is Mine, and it is yours. All the dissimilarities that seem to exist do not exist. Oneness is. Anything else is not.
Yet separation has been held up on Earth like a banner. A marching band has taken you away with them, and you leave your Self behind. Seemingly, you leave your Self behind. You assume an identity that is not yours at all. You give this assumed identity a great importance, as if your very life depended upon it.
You see varied players around the poker table. You think you pick up the chips or that someone else does. You imagine there are other players, and you imagine that you can win or lose. You think you live in a game of chance, and that it is chance that brought you on Earth just to play cards.
Who is it who is playing cards, beloveds, in this casino of life? Who plays all the hands, and who does this or that. Is it you? Is it I? Is it anyone? Who cheers you when you win, and who cheers you when you do not win, and who says you win or lose, and who can give any of it meaning? And yet it means something. It means a lot to you even thought it is only a rambling that paves the top of where real life happens and its magnificence for the One of Us called two.
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