Enlivenment is its own story. Enlivenment of consciousness is what your life is about. Liveliness of the body is one thing. Stirring of your consciousness is another. Stir, stir, stir this precious jewel of yourself. Do not keep it in a drawer. Wear it. Never be without it.

There are levels of awareness. Your awareness called consciousness is always looking at itself. You have a still stolid partner in your life, an aspect of you that witnesses, witnesses and is not affected, witnesses and does not comment, witnesses and watches from a high place. Neutral is this witness aspect of yourself. This consciousness of yours is so strong that nothing daunts it. It simply observes. It is not aloof. It is very present, only it comes from such a resourceful place that it wants for nothing.

It has a little smile at the corner of its mouth, this consciousness of yours. It is not indifferent. It cares but cares from a place of aplomb. It comes from a seat of wisdom that knows, no matter how florid you are, no matter how you rant and rave, no matter how seriously you take this episode of life, that you are unchanged and ever great soul.

Even in your darkest moments, you have a thread of awareness that knows all is well. You push out this awareness because you are smack in the middle of suffering and will not have it discounted. The major portion of you will not be comforted no matter what, yet this stable thread of you sits calmly with its arms and legs crossed in lotus position and allows you your antics while it ably communicates with Me.

There is a part of you that never moves, is always still, straight, noble. It may be a hair's breadth, but it is, nevertheless, the greater part of you. It is the essence and substance of you. It is death-defying. It cannot be harrowed, nor frightened, nor shuttled around. This part of you is inviolable. It is your overlord, so to speak. It monitors you as I do with love, love dispassionate, love wiser than you acquaint yourself with in the course of what you call normal events.

You are not a puppet, yet there is a straight thread that runs through you from head to toe and holds you up high to Heaven. You are not a puppet, and I am not a Puppeteer, yet I do hold this thread of you in My hand, not as a rein, no, not at all, but more like a gossamer web of love, so fine that it is infinite, so fine that it is a million times stronger than the strongest tungsten, so fine in its tensile strength that it knows not obstruction, so fine that it flies free and yet is divinely held in Heaven.

Now I will tell you that it is you who holds this gossamer web of love as a queen holds the hem of her ball gown above the ground. You hold this love in your hand, and it is as if I hold it in My hand, and We whirl across the dance floor, not as a couple, but as One. Our connection is love, yet it is love never separated, and so it is Oneness, never apart, never cut, never knotted, simply a smooth silken thread of love that winds itself around the world entire and never ends, never ever ends.