When you let go of any attachment, you are uplifted. Letting go is being uplifted. You want to be uplifted, but you don't want to let go.

Anytime you have felt inspired, something in you lifted. Your attachment to darkness loosened its hold. You saw the light. You saw a new way. That was your lifting. You opened a blind. You let the light through. The light came through simply because you opened a blind.

You have blind spots, and they are dear to you. You hold them to you as your preciousness. Your darling denials. You seem to feel you must nourish them.

For many, your blind spots are your very reality. You are proud of your hold on them. You imagine that this or that causes this or that, and you are powerless. Do you see how you dig the hole you jump in?

Perhaps your hold is on illness or poverty or loneliness, and you have all kinds of proofs for your condition. You sew your proofs into the hem of your skirt or the brim of your hat, and you keep them there to pull out whenever someone or something comes to shake your proof. "Here it is," you say. "It has always been there. It has always been so. I inherited it, or I caught it, or it caught me. In any case, I am victim. That is how life is." And you narrow your life by attaching it to your ideas.

Your attaching is the same as giving up.

You become the giant who rolled the stone up the mountain only to have it roll down again. That is the defeat you sentence yourself to. That is your circular thinking.

You think, and perhaps say, "A and B cause X. A and B are inevitable in life. Therefore, X is inevitable." You love your proofs. You are proud of them. You think they absolve you from responsibility, but they are your very responsibility.

Let Us even concede for a moment that A and B exist and must exist, although that is a poor assumption. Even so, it is a big stretch to the X. Maybe A causes B, or B causes A, or X causes A and B, or perhaps N causes them all, or none of them have anything to do with the other. You make absurd correlations, and hold them to you like a doll a child holds onto and will not let go of.

You say A and B cause your illness, or maybe you say only A that causes this one and B another, but you attribute something as the inevitable cause of something you say you don't want. And yet you seem to hold this correlation dear to you, more dearly than the letting go of it.

Are you so hesitant to take responsibility?

Attachment to your ideas is a way of keeping things as they are. It is not a way of changing. Maybe you like your present drama. Perhaps you are the hero or heroine at death's door or shut out or robbed again, and the sirens of the police or ambulance are like your call to arms — or your lullabies.

In any case, My beloveds, you stupefy yourself, while I call you to awake. Abandon the past and your ideas that come from it. Your ideas are narrow. They are bounded. They keep you in thrall.

Find some new ideas. Or convert your present ones. Shake a leg. Unlock your world. Confine yourself no longer. There is more to you than you have ever imagined. You have your feet stuck in A and B, when there is a whole alphabet before you, and another language and another alphabet after that, and there is horizon after horizon calling out to you with Truth, Truth far beyond any idea you ever conceived.

You conceived your ideas. You contrived them. Then you made them your beliefs. Locate your beliefs. Identify them and let them go. They are not useful to you. They hobble you. Replace them with Truth. Start anew.