This is what you ask Me today from the rugged path of your heart:
“Beloved God, am I writing this to you? Who writes to You then? I am not certain that it is I who writes this to You, God. God, just as sometimes I do not seem to be able to locate You, nor do I seem to be able to know who or where I am. I know I sit here in this fictional place. I know I sit in this chair, and my feet press Earth, and my fingers move on the keyboard as though I were playing the piano. Are these my words, or are they Your Words given to me as a book to read?
“Right now I feel that I am not the personage who sits here and feels as if these thoughts purported to be mine really are coming from somewhere unidentified.
“I feel extended beyond this room and even this town and beyond all Creation. Some of Your Vastness has entered me. For a few moments I am boundless. I am a human being sitting here, and yet I am greater than this vague human being who sits here encompassed in this body and yet, at the same time, not encompassed in this body. What am I doing seemingly encompassed in this body, God?
“Who sits here? You can’t be typing these words, yet it doesn’t seem that I am typing away either. Are these my thoughts? Am I speaking, or is it You, God? Am I a funnel through which You express Yourself?
“Are You speaking on my behalf? Are You describing what I feel and the questions I feel as I search for myself? Do I exist at all, God?
“Why would I bother to spend all these years searching for myself when I feel something greater than contentment to be without the borders of myself? I would like to say beyond myself. What do I want with myself at all? Without me, who would be finding fault? Without me, where would the pretension of non-love find a place to locate itself anywhere at all?
“Maybe I don’t want to find myself. Maybe I desire to lose myself and not find this dot of me ever again. God, I think I want to disappear. Perhaps I have mixed up the two concepts of appearing and disappearing. Maybe all my life I have been a ghost of myself, raveling and unraveling my supposed self. I feel myself leaving this personhood I have claimed to be when I have, in Reality, been nothing at all. God, is there no me at all prattling all these years thinking I was some great ego-ness?
“Now my vision clears, and I see I am nothing at all, and nothing is a good thing to be. All the while, I could have been seeking You, God, instead of seeking this non-entity I have been calling myself.
“I may have thought I was Atlas who held up a whole world of myself when I was really Sisyphus who rolled a boulder up a mountain every day only to have it fall down and so have to start over and roll the boulder up the same mountain again the next morning.
“What if there were no nightfall and all is bright sunshine and I am a ray of this light that scans the Universe. If sunlight were rain, I would be a small drop of rain that would evaporate. I would disappear, yet I would still moisten the world as sunlight dispersed.
“It feels like something is happening to me, even as I am no longer. Does finding myself mean that there is nothing at all to find? Is finding myself really letting go of myself, or, rather, realizing that there is nothing to let go of but an idea that doesn’t stand up when seen within Your light?
“Am I awaking from a dream of which there was none? Can it be that the dream is over, and there is no conclusion to draw from it? It is not that I withdraw from the dream. The dream withdraws from me. I am now as I was before the dream when I knew without question that Being Is All.”