To what do you attribute the pulsating of life in the Heart of Earth and the Forever Ever After?
To what do you attribute the Existence of Life altogether? Life is unfathomable, isn’t it? It is inconceivable, yet life was conceived and then perceived and had its debut before all the attendees and you.
All this to-do, not ado about nothing, yet to-do about a dream that gathered itself and displayed so many rivers of itself, winding and unwinding stories like a flash in the pan, the characters and plots only to be forgotten. There is no record of all the people and all the characters. No one remembers them any more. There is nothing for them to be remembered by, and no one to remember them.
Before this, there was a cry. The cry was: Create. And I created you, the Totality of You.
And so, in your imagined life, you create stories. You murmur them. You visualize them. It can be said that you perpetuate life more than you create it. You deliberate on life. You may not mind your p’s and q’s, yet you mind everything else. You may see life as little you and big ominous forces doing a number on you.
If you feel forsaken, you have forsaken yourself. You stripped yourself of Reality and covered yourself with torn rags of fantasy stirred in a cauldron.
You populate your life with all manner of things, not unimaginable because you do imagine them. You have an idea of strife. You fill in the blanks. Love and beauty may be more vague to you. You tell stories about love and beauty, yet you are not convinced.
You are a country cousin, or you are a city cousin. You live in seemingly separate worlds when the Truth is that there is nothing in life separate from anything else. Everything is connected in one way or another even as everything you may know seems to fall into an abyss.
You may not know how to be true to yourself because you don’t fathom the Truth of Your Self. A man is as he thinketh, and you don’t know what to think or what you do think. You don’t know which thoughts to believe, which thoughts to even hear, which thoughts to keep, which thoughts to ponder, and which thoughts to toss out as fast as you can. Your mind thinks of many quadrants, and some or many are scary.
The Truth is not scary. The Truth is a cascading rose that intertwines with every other rose. There is an Essence of Rose as there is an Essence of God. The Essence of God permeates through all Human Beings strewn on Earth no matter every which way.
Of course, you were not strewn on Earth the way corn is. You were placed with great forethought and care. You hit the mark. You were not whim. You were not an afterthought. You were focused on. You are like a package that arrives. You were not made from a cookie-cutter. You were not made to be like everyone else. Together you are One Unified Whole, yet, on the surface, you are individual. Your individuality, although a myth, is yet also sacred.
You were foretold. There are no accidents, yet you were not mandated. You were given your life to do with as you choose. Frantically or peacefully, you chose your stories, you told them, and you made them come true in this big dream you entered into suspiciously and innocently at the same time. Your very suspicion was innocent as if nothing could ever really happen to you. On one level, this is absolutely true.
Of course, on another level, the Truth is that nothing happened. There was reverie. There was a dance like the Virginia Reel, and there were other dance steps with names of their own, rhythms and drum beats to boot.
Everything has a meaning at the same time as there is no meaning except as you assign a meaning. You invented meaning. Not that there was no meaning, just greater meaning than your mind could swallow, subtler meaning, meaning resting upon other meaning, meaning hidden and deeper, meaning that you had to peel off in order to penetrate, meaning you couldn’t quite hold onto or accept or know what to make of or to do with or not do with.
Now you are getting closer. You are beginning to burst forth as you are without cover-up or blather.