What shall it be? What shall We talk about today? Shall We just take a walk? Hold hands and meander around the park today? Whatever, let Our hearts be full with the Fullness of Love as Our hearts become closer until, lo and behold, We are Closeness ItSelf, and We have passed all borders, so-called borders that never existed except in the mind of humankind and were held onto tight. Borders are just ideas.

All these borders were passed onto you anyway. You did not create them. You were told they were there, and you were taught not to go through doors and not walk where you were told not to go.

You were told no-no, and, so, no-no it was. What the great danger was – this was not clearly passed onto you. To believe it was danger was enough. You feared a fall from grace or disgrace of some kind if you ventured into your True Self.

What on earth is so risky about who you truly are? What merit can there be in your taking a trick photograph of yourself, as if pretense is your holding card, as if pretense gets you safe passage, as if you are to portray yourself as the world seems to instruct, and which can only be less than the Truth of you. You have felt obliged to paint a pencil sketch of yourself. A holy portrait of yourself would carry more Truth than this pretended one of you that states you are body and troubles and that is all you can be, and that is all life is and can possibly be. Hurray for status quo, says the world.

A pale picture of yourself are was passed onto you. What can this pale picture be but a denouncement of yourself? You pay a high price for it, this false image of yourself.

Have no Gods before Me. You may well have put the God Illusion before Me. You pay a fortune to slight yourself. Certainly, have fun with fashion and various styles. Just don’t buy into them as the extent of Almighty God.

Bear no false testimony. Bear no false witness.

You are a mighty miracle who shies away from miracle. You lower your scores in every area except foolishness. You make of Greatness a trifling thing.

Now, come walk with Me and let Me show you treasures as We amble. See the flowers. Awe-inspiring. No more than you. See the water and the duckies who swim upon the water and make ripples.

See the sky of Heaven and powder-puffs of clouds. See how the sunlight falls and reflects the cast of light as beautiful as you.

Listen to the singing of birds. See the tree leaves as they hold on during the days of glory. Feel the breeze nestling up to you. See the performance that nature provides for you even as a shadow-dance. What tinsel can shine so bright?

You are the Greatest on Earth, yes, simple you. Who else has rosy cheeks and dimples and smile lines but My Children? Who has the circumstances you have and the imagination that shines from your eyes and that you believe in? Who has such ignorance as you? Who slides down the mountain, and who rises in the East but you?

What do you think life is if not an occasion for you to use your voice and clap your hands? Life hum-drum? Not on your life. Life is a myriad of miracles. You are a miracle who reddens and says, “Shucks, no.”

You read your lines perfunctorily in a monotone while you hold the miracles in your hand, you who shies away from yourself. You are My roses and My vines of grapes. I made you. I drew you, and now I draw you to Me so that you may sing My songs and dance My dance. Boom, sings your heart. Tap, tap, dance your feet, and the world goes round. You are a mighty force of nature. You are the hit parade, and you know it not. Sadly goes round the wheel of life until you wake up to dare be the Authentic You.