In the Midst of So Much Brilliance

God said:

You continue to grope to understand that which you do not: "How did life on Earth come to be? Why am I here, and why did I choose it? What does it mean that I am infinite and eternal? What does it mean, in practical terms, that God and I are One? How can We be One? 'We' is plural, and 'One' is singular."

You have more questions:

"How can the unfathomableness of the world be fathomable? How can there be cruelty and injustice in a world that God made? How can there be such beauty and exquisiteness in a world that is so contradictory?

"How can good and bad coexist? How can there be a before and after? How can there be an edge to the world? How can there be pain and illness? How can children be born and children die? Is it true that every body on Earth will die and be no more? If that is true, how can it be true? Why is there existence anyway? If time does not exist, why do we have it? If space does not exist, where am I?

"Is it true that I have a soul, and that my soul never dies? Is it true that my soul is ever rising to Heaven, even as I speak? If so, why is this not my experience?

"How can there be the seasons? How can one spot of Earth be frozen, and the same spot be boiling hot another time? How can I be happy one moment and not the next?

"Is it true that the world turns? And, if it is true, what does it turn to?

"Has the world really improved over the years? If it has, how can there still be such mercilessness? If the world has not improved, how can I face it?

"If I cannot get answers to these questions, why do I have them?"

You could presumably stop your questions and forget about them, and much of the time you do. That which you ask about, you come closer to. It is as if your thoughts ride a rail, as if your thoughts magnetize that which they are about, as if your thoughts are a trail you follow.

You seek to know knowledge. You seek to know answers to questions, as if the answers could ever satisfy. What you need is not answers but experience. If you had all the answers given to you, you would still seek to grasp the answers in your heart. The answers to questions do not always answer the question. Answers are not enough. All the explanations are not enough. But there are enough questions.

The child reaching for the rattle is not asking for answers. He is looking for discovery. He puts the toy in his mouth, and he experiences it. An explanation of what a rattle is would not satisfy him. Incredible analyses and charts would not substitute for the rattle itself. The child does not need understanding of the rattle. Or, if he does, no one can give him the understanding. The comprehension comes of its own. Understanding is not there, and then one day it is. As simple as that.

You have discoveries to make.

And when you do, all becomes simple.

When you are in the center of the sun, what possible analysis do you want to make? And what could it tell you? When you are centered in the sun, what questions would you want to ask? What questions could you think of in the midst of so much brilliance?