We Who Dream, pg 21

I am still. Hearing angels sing, watching the skies of my soul, I open my heart to Him...He answers.

Good morning. The stars remain in their cycles, one season gives way to the next. As winter approaches, we know He answers before we ask. We will never avert our eyes from Him.

A world walking through the ages, weary of dreams. This is the veil through which we peer.

We must remember that we are the begotten. Here is our healing. There is only God, and what God creates. Here is Divine Love, coursing through us--all of us.

Not in sentimentality...

To go beyond sentiment and see the other as one with us. Look into their eyes--our eyes; their touch our touch. We celebrate the action of Divine Love now. It is not enough to smile vainly at our neighbor, as we keep secret suspicion in our heart. All over the world, people still gather in prayer. Here lies awesome power. And here is another gift: those who have shed the physical are gathered with us, their energy focused with ours. Do we choose to stay in this dream, or find that power, that faith? There are those who believe we are nothing more than brain and muscle and bone. But why has spirituality continued to flow like an eternal river, underneath this scrambling race? Why does it persist, especially at times like this, when it seems the terror would bury it further?

Not just, "Life goes on..."

Who told us this was life? God asked Adam, "Who told you you were naked?" Who told us to be ashamed? There is no one to tell us such things. We never left the heart of God. The story of the serpent in the tree has been transformed into a universal belief in a presence opposed to God. If anything could oppose God, the universe could not have sustained itself--neither song nor singer. Do you feel a presence unlike Him? Evil is everything that God is not. That which is not God is illusion.


I am still. I declare to the physical essence I made, that I remain in the Garden, walking with my Father, my brother beside me. This remains my word.

Good morning. The eternal moment. We continue into the vastness of that which sings and thrives beyond perception. We speak of things apparently unspeakable and untouchable. But we can touch them. There still are more people touching hands, speaking their hearts, than those who would only destroy.

We who pray, regardless the name we give our individual concept of God, turn toward that light now. We're not ashamed, nor afraid to acknowledge our unity.

We are "becoming" what we have always been. We volunteer the depth of our soul to the cries of others, in an instant. We see souls "depart", thus teaching the world what life really is.

Forever...

Not ending, having not begun. That Which we call by many names is real. Refusing to hear the Song will not make it go away.

But there are many who do refuse.

Where is their power? Is it directed to ego, which only makes demands; steals truth and twists it to its own will? Ego is the sum of false belief. Spirit makes no demands. Ego thrives on complexity, While Spirit lives in simplicity. All is well.

The world awakens, stretches, looks around. It sees that it was dreaming all along, that we all remain held in the Arms of the Eternal.

All pain washes away, as rain that dissolves before it touches the ground. Let us recognize the Divine and speak the content of our heart.

Father, we stand to erase all differences, so that we are clear to receive your light. We stand and declare your reality, hands raised to the sky. Nightmares may storm the gates of our united hearts, but still we stand. We who dream shout no more for the pull of that which returns to dust, but dwell here with you, forever. Amen.

I've heard stories of people held in hostile countries, who could actually feel others praying for them.

Prayer is no hollow cry, but the power of soul within the heart of God.


I am still. The Divine waits with infinite patience, as our journey continues...

Good morning. Notice the energy seems low. We have yet to fully open to it. Breathe it in.Begin to feel it. You cannot use it up, for how could the eternal be depleted? As you exhale, allow the body to relax. We do not pull the energy along like a child pulling a wagon. It is all that we are.

We've made idols of our superstitious beliefs, based on our perception. Our fears teach us that God must be feared, too.

And still we continue. All over the world, people continue praying. They know the passing of time matters not. They understand prayer is part of life.

Again, how could that be called weakness?

The tiniest voice, buried by years of abuse, still finds its way to the surface. This is our strength, God in us, our healing.

Because in the deepest heart, we're still whole. The answer remains.

Ego demands, "Where was God when this child was being brutalized!" How could God allow such things to happen (in a world that ego set in motion). For we have made such a world, then place responsibility for its horrors on some mysterious deity, which we also made, in our own image.

We must find our way back.

Let us begin by understanding that our raging has had no effect on our perfect soul. Time to raise voices, not in outrage, but in the love given by our Father. Time to accept our birthright. Allow that mask to be removed, to reveal the radiant face of God.

That which is experienced, not just perceived.

Which we glimpse, even in despair. How much greater must be our full seeing! Return for a moment to the prodigal. His Father, rather than chastise, fell on his neck, and kissed him. What more do we need to know? We will never dream a better home than the only one we have. We are loved beyond explanation or condition. We should dance for joy for the purity of it all. Divine love is ours forever.

Father, ours has been a seeking, and along the way a finding, of but glimpses of you. But we would rather have these flashes alone, than to remain blind. Thank you that you hear us, for we hear you whisper beneath our shouting. We sense your reality behind shadows, and we no longer fear. We know each fleeting glimpse of you is a precursor to awakening. Thank you, Father. Amen.

We seek, all the time thinking the gift is in the destination, but we never left, so along the "journey" answers are found.

Spirit does not just have answers...Spirit is the answer.

I feel the energy...

Let it go. Free that part of you thriving in childlike vision. Dance with it. Reach that in you that could never leave.

This energy isn't contained in a body...

No. This is our way of defining what cannot be defined. Energy cannot be contained, for its nature is freedom. You have no words to describe this creative, eternal, energy.

Forever sings...

No superlative can paint it, no perception behold it.

But sight can.

Sight is the vision of soul. We (ego) peer through a glass darkly, behold our own devices, celebrate our cleverness. Ego tries to cover sight, telling lies in picture form. BELIEVE NO LONGER IN LIES.

I hear the Song of the ages, feel the beat of a kettle drum, hear the shimmer of guitar strings.

Hear this: We all know the Song. For some, the rush of a stream beside their camp; for others the anticipation of what might lie over the next hill. We all are children of the Song. We lift our perception to see one another, to share in its perfect lyric. We hear the call of our siblings, often in astonishment. We look up and find a stranger looking at us, and know at once a mate has been found; wake suddenly, knowing the phone is about to ring. Before we answer, we know the one on the line is a friend in trouble. This is sight, poking holes in our perception.

If physical reality were the answer, why would all sacred teachings describe an afterlife, a "better place"?

What lies "beyond" is true life. When we "left" the Garden, we found we had to survive by the sweat of our brow. We were on our own. God cannot compel us, nor imprison us. We are free to discover ourselves.

We left our perfect oneness, and entered into dreaming.

Why would infinite life create bodies...weak, sick, fragile lumps of clay? God did not create us to die, but to live! Ego declares that to meet God is death, claims it is we who speak morbidly.

God doesn't ordain suffering, or God Himself would suffer. Since He is infinite, then His suffering would be infinite. The universe would have died before it even began.

God remains God. We dream we have turned away from home, and made a world where opposites thrive. But He could never turn from us, to fall into dreaming. Hear His call, listen to the voice...

"Be still, and know, I am God."

["I am still"= a new day, a new session.]
[This page was written just after 9/11.]