Every single person on Earth, all people on Earth, have much to be grateful for if only they knew. Life is magic.
Life is as if you have gold and rubies on your neck and wrists, and you are thinking they are mere baubles made of plastic, and so you don’t know what you have, and you don’t yet value what is yours entwined within this illusive quality called life.
What a great thing to come into the Sun. What a great thing to long for the Sun. What a great thing to be under the Sun.
What a great thing to walk on Earth. And, oh, yes, the senses. They alert you, and they melt you. To think of the greatness of life - to be able to hear a loved one’s voice and to look into a loved one’s eyes. What a great gift to be able to touch and be touched. And to taste a peach and to smell a flower. Delicious are the senses. The senses aren’t everything, and, yet, they are incredible. Who could have dreamed of the whole concept of flowers let alone have flowers push their way up through the earth?
Tell Me, what is not amazing on Earth? That from an acorn a tree grows, that from a flower a scent comes, that sprouts grow, and water is wet? Aren’t these amazing miracles right before you?
And how your body moves. How the heart and mind direct you this way or that. To think of impulses and ideas. What Children of Riches be you.
And where do your impulses come from, and where are you going even when you may think you are not going anywhere?
Even these fictional ideas of time and space – aren’t they fun? You can be early and late or, even, on time in this world where you can also say an expression like the snows of yesteryear and where you can say the cherry blossoms are on the bough, and you can visit a new land by sea, by land, or by air or even by foot?
Of course, yet incredibly, war and violence still exist, even as you are far beyond hurting anyone or anything yet you still roar nevertheless.
Everything in the world makes some kind of contrast. Red and white. Blue and gold. Red raspberries and black raspberries. Iris flowers and bleeding hearts. Sweet and sour. Take delight even in the contrast, that the people on Earth can care deeply about so many divergent positions in the world, that some can love war and others be stunned by it. Even this stirs the pot of life.
You can know that ideas of winning or losing are false. Both are false. Both are predicated solely upon a point of view. But how you believe in these opposites. How you believe in them. Even as you may love peace, you hate war and those who seem to predicate them. Only metaphorically can you be a soldier of peace. You can be a throng for peace yet you cannot be an army. Hold the light, beloveds, for I have given it to you. So long as you are stirred up by anger no matter how righteous-seeming the cause, war will mount its horse and spew fire.
There is no war far away. All war is near. The fuel for war is in hearts, and all hearts get wounded, and life becomes disrespectful. It is now for you to shake animosity loose from your heart.
From what does animosity arise? It arises from belief in winning and losing and so you give yourself over to the perpetuation of the concept me, me, me and other, other, other no matter how often I tell you that, no matter how separate you may each appear from each other, you are each My One Self. When you have flickers of separation, you create flash fires. The idea of separateness leads to the conflagration called war, a futile illogical attempt to win peace.
There are a lot of little wars going around at home and work and on the street. Abandon separation. Admit to higher states of existence on Earth, which definitely are not war.