You Are Many-Dimensioned Facets of Yourself

You are the rolling stone that gathers no moss. There is no moss to gather.

You are a free spirit who runs around in life. Surrounded by a body, you nevertheless leap. You are a soarer. You are soaring to Heaven now. You are soaring in your understanding. You grasp nothing but yourself. You interact with no one but yourself. You play all the parts from Cinderella to the Fairy Godmother to the wicked witch. You are many-dimensioned facets of yourself. You are tall and thin. You are short and not thin. You seem to be the last to know what you are looking for.

You are never alone, and yet you are the only one on the stage of your life. You are in hot pursuit of yourself. You caught up with yourself long ago, yet you continue the charade of the lost and the hunted. It is yourself you seek. There is only you to find. And yet you are the crowd. You are the single one. That is, the Oneness of you and the Oneness of Me united are the whole chase.

All you are looking for has been waiting to be found, waiting for you to open your eyes wide, waiting for you to recognize the truth of yourself. I am telling you where you come from. You come from the totality of Me. You are Myself.

Perhaps you haven't heard well. Perhaps you have been distracted and looked askance. Perhaps you don't know what you are seeing. You don't know how to read between the lines. Perhaps you are the lines you have drawn. Perhaps you are more of a decider than you know.

You are a secret you have kept from yourself and keep from yourself still. No one offends you but yourself. No one pleases you but yourself. You pierce your vein and believe another did it. You remark on someone's ill behavior when it is your own.

By the same token, you are the honorable king or queen.

You are the orphan you take care of.

You are the jailer and the jailed. You are the hunter, and you are the prey.

You are the desert and the oasis. The mountain and the valley. The river and its banks.

I am telling you that you are all that is. You are everything you perceive. You are the story, the storyteller, and the one who listens with bated breath.

You are the marksman and you are the target, and you are the rifle you shoot and are shot with.

This is a fantasy you live in, and you make it up.

Your footfall is sure, and yet your mind wanders. You cannot locate yourself because you are unlocatable. You are everywhere and nowhere.

You are the physician and you are the patient. You are the made-up name of the illness. You are the surgeon, and you cut yourself.

There is nothing that is not you. The one you love is you. The one you dislike is you. Everything is you. All are you. You are the entire skein of yarn, and you unwind in a multitude of ways, and yet you are, nevertheless, the one of Oneness.

There are no calamities, no digressions, no getting to the point, and no getting off it.

You are a blurry picture you have seen in haste and keep forgetting.

You are so much more than you know while you make too much of incidents and events. You call a celebration and then forget to attend.

You understand everything, and you understand nothing. You understand there is nothing to understand. You are a picture being unfolded, and you see drama.

Well, you don't have to understand. That is the dilemma you are in, for you are sure something is happening when nothing is happening, nothing at all.