What is life in the relative world but much ado about nothing? All the fuss. A stream flows, and someone or another wants to stop the stream, keep it holed up in one place, keep it as a captured moment in space and time. But dikes break, and streams will flow as they flow. They will not be held in place. Life runs through your fingers. It escapes you.
My children often try to hold onto life, want to affix it in time and place, snap pictures of it as if you could bite down on it. Beloveds, there is no glue strong enough. You cannot nail life down. You cannot catch hold of life. Just as your hand reaches out to grasp it, it has flown away. You can watch the stream of life as it flows. You can stand still to watch it, yet life will not stand still for you. And you who are stillness also race away with the winds. It would appear that you elope with life, and you discover it on your way.
In terms of the world, you can only be on your way, and yet you are stillness and never move.
Life, which you are here to enjoy, is one elongated thought. Or perhaps a flute that plays itself in many notes. You blow your breath through the flute, and your fingers dance. The flute and your life are instruments you play. Your voice is a guitar you strum. What are your eyes but melting notes? And what is this world that you observe but a work of art you observe painting itself? And you also have a hand in it.
What is there in life to be disappointed about? It is life living itself. Even as you are the whole canvas, you are also the multi-colored paint spilling everywhere, brushed by your hand and a Bigger Hand that you may catch glimpses of from the corner of your eye, and yet wonder if you really did. You have glimpses of Truth, and yet all the fantasy, all the playing out of Truth, you may hold as gospel.
The world is a spinning top that keeps spinning, and you are a whirling Dervish, beloved. You spin a tale. You climb the tree of yourself and look out from the peak.
What is going on, you know not. Life goes too fast for you and not fast enough. You are ahead of it and behind it . You are beside it too. You are in a puzzle, and you want to solve it, and yet there is nothing to solve. Streams flow. Your heart is to follow in kind. And it is itself your heart is to follow.
Catch the sparkles of the stream like fishes. Enter into the stream. It is consciousness. You cannot be apart from it anyway. You can only kid yourself, and that you do very well. Mostly you kid yourself that you are less than you are. You do a good job of it. Now, let that employment go. Take a vacation. Come with Me. I will take you on a tour such as you have never seen brochures about. No reservation needed. No flights to catch, no baggage to pack. Nothing to forget to bring because you are traveling under My passport. In fact, there is no passport of any kind needed, for We travel in Eternity. We are already there. There is no travel. We are Here.