Even a little bit of sun is sun. Even a little bit of joy is joy. You are fortunate to be awake this morning. It is good fortune to be alive. Have you sometimes forgotten that? Awake! Arise! Pull up the blinds. A new day is dawning, and you are alive in it. If you are alive, you are meant to be alive. Be glad for life. And when the time comes, be glad for death. Life of the body, death of the body, each in its own time. But life itself is beyond the limits of time and of space, for life itself is beautifully eternal. There is no interruption to life.
Life strolls down 5th Avenue. Life is an Easter Parade. Later on the body gets off the trolley. The life of the party continues with Me. We stroll through the street-less Heaven, yet Heaven has its walking lanes, or We can say flying lanes, so engaging, so expanding, so limitless is Heaven. Even in life, you and I are walking through the hills and dales of Heaven. It is so natural.
Your body does not have to die in order for you to know Heaven. Heaven is an intimate part of you right now. It is the most intimate part of you, the Heaven part where you do somersaults, for you are as light as air, and you alight in Heaven and you kick off from Heaven. From Heaven you start. From Heaven, every day you start. And every day you do not leave. You are integral to Heaven. It ever was so.
On Earth, you are not so sure what you are doing here. In Heaven, you know what you are doing and why and when and all the ins and outs. It is a breeze, life in Heaven. Regardless of the clamor on Earth and your participation in it, you are nonetheless in Heaven and sure of yourself.
Your jaunt on Earth is a sideline. It is in parentheses. The mainstream of your life is in Heaven. You ride on the Milky Way, as it were, more than you do on the bus. Heaven is the real Grand Central Station. Heaven is truly where the action is, or non-action is. On Earth, you drift off to sleep. You doze and dream a dream of what is called real life.
Ah, but We know where Real Life is and what takes place which does not really take place nor does it take time. We are in a timeless placeless place. We are immersed in a heart of gold. We fly, We swim, and yet We are anchored in Heaven. Heaven is not really a Vacation Home. It is Our True Home. The hearth is love, and in love We are, and in love We stay and never leave. Inundated with love, We fly, and We fly nowhere, and yet We soar everywhere. Love soars. There is nothing else.
We meander, yet there is no meandering. We never miss the target. We always hit the bull’s eye. It is natural. There is nothing to overcome, and so We succumb to all the love in Heaven. We build castles with all this vast love. We build the many mansions in Heaven. We are so in love that We don’t know where love begins and ends, and, of course, it neither begins nor ends, for love is a constant. We don’t even identify love because there is nothing to differentiate from it, and so We are wave after wave of love, love furling and unfurling itself a little bit like poetry or a windfall or blessed breeze which ushers itself to and fro.