Hello, World. Are you rotating today? Are you the globe circling and meeting yourself?

And what are you, the world, without people milling around on you?

Is the world the world, or is the world the people on it?

Now you, the people in the world, are you dabbling?

Are you a person walking on the whirling globe of the world, exercising yourself as round and round you go. You are exercising life. And look at you go.

Exercise the muscles of your life. Expand and expand more. Open yourself up to new horizons and discover yourself.

You are a world of discoveries. You are discovering yourself anew. Every day you do. You have deaths and births each day. Cycling, cycling, you burst from the egg, and here you are.

You are a pioneer, of course. The road you travel has never been traveled on before. You draw with pen and paper an excursion of yourself. You put the sun in a corner of your paper and the moon in another. When you have filled one paper, you start on another, and so your day is born. You stand at attention. The alarm clock is your trumpet. You get up and get a piece of paper to write on or draw on.

Sometimes you are a great artist. Sometimes you are a cartoonist. Some days you erase and erase. Some days you use crayons and fill in every space, covering the whole background.

What are you doing on Earth? Perhaps you are simply drawing with a stick in the sand. From a line drawn on the sand, a flower grows, and you are the flower growing. Certainly, you grow. Certainly, you etch yourself. Certainly, you are a sculptor of yourself.

It is good to admire your work. A day has passed, and you move on to new territory. Take your backpack, or take your wings, and see where you go. Don't look back to where you have been. It doesn't matter. The step you take now matters. Today is the platform you step on, and you find you are riding an escalator, or you may be trudging on an escalator. In every case, you are escalating. You are never marching in place.

You may feel you are sojourning in life, and yet you travel. You may travel down a winding road or go up and down a steep hill, or wander in a forest that has a human visitor for the first time, or you walk in a desert of sand and leave shadows of yourself.

Or you somersault five times on the grass or you pole vault to the furthest star. You are always going somewhere. You do not just fill up space of which there is no such thing at all. You do not just pass the time because there is no time to pass.

And, so, what you actually do is to fill My heart with the joy I have given to you.

You have, however, invented something called misery. It is just an invention that somehow took hold. No matter how dismal, it became popular. It was sought after as though it were a treasure. Forsaken of yourself, you sought it. You were delving through a mine field. Come, beloved, come into the flower garden I have planted for you. It is called Eden, this garden I planted for you. You are very near. You are not far. Only a hair-breadth to go. Shimmer your way over here in the sunlight or the starlight or in whatever light you like, for here is your destiny, and it is right at hand. It is just over the next moment. It is not even a stone's throw away. It is right here and right now in this erstwhile moment. You are on the crest of the garden right now. Come, sit on a bench with Me. Whatever you want to talk about, We will talk about, knee to knee, heart to heart in a beautiful garden of life on the crest of a hill.