The Play Is the Thing

God said:

If you would like to keep a sense of Me with you all day, if you find it pleasant, step aside from all the thoughts that pursue you. When you feel My presence near you, then you are what is called centered. It is the rest of the time that you are off-track. Focus on Me is not concentration. Awareness of Me is looking straight ahead or up or in. I speak to you in your own heart. Your heart is your ear, so to speak.

Ask that you may hear and reveal Me all day. Ask that you keep Me in your awareness as a lovely tune that ever grows more beautiful and more indelible so that you may know the unbreakableness of that which is between Us. Between is not the right word, because there is nothing that is between Us. Above all, be open to Me.

And yet there is the world to embrace.

The world is only your projection, and yet you live in it. You were placed in the world of earth. You serve purpose on earth. The world, although a dream, is nevertheless a dream that you are in.

The world is not to ignore. The world is not for you to be above. The world is to love. It is natural to love. It is natural for you to love the world.

The love that is in the world is often unexpressed and repressed. Love is cream, but it can be separated into buttermilk and butter, one more sour, one more sweet. But it is love nonetheless.

What you call good or bad is a playing out. Whether a play is a drama or melodrama or tragedy or comedy, it is the play. The play is the thing, and the play is love.

Even arguments are love. Even wars are love. Whipped cream pushed through a tube is still whipped cream. Yet it is the bountiful overflowing whipped cream that you prefer. But whipped cream, in whatever form it appears — dyed, disguised, misshapen — is nevertheless whipped cream.

So all expression is expression of Me, no matter what it looks like to you.

I know that all is well. The thing is, you do not yet know.

Suffering is an attitude. It is not an event. It is an attitude taken toward an event. The same event can be taken many ways. Interpretation of an event changes the event. An event is not an event. It is interpreted. It is translated. It is put into a pile. You have piles of Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Tragic, Loss, Gain, Winning, Losing, Beautiful, Ugly, Unforgivable, etc. You are putting your experiences into piles all day. But there is one pile. It is called Life. The true name for Life is Love. The basis of Life is Love. There is no other basis for it to have.

Rain waters the soil. It quenches thirst. It floods. Not enough rain. Too much rain. But rain is innocent. Rain is not different in different amounts. It is not more nor less than rain. But it is rain appreciated, rain unappreciated. It is rain taken for granted or rain railed against. But all the while, rain is rain and it can be nothing else.

Rain is not personal to you. It is not specific to you. It falls on all alike. And yet no one wants to drown in it. So one goes to higher land.

Just so with suffering. One rises above it.