In the way of Him Who created me,
I walk.
A scorched and bitter earth was my dream.
But He sent me His Spirit,
My Teacher.
The sights and cries of a tired world.
But my Teacher showed me it never was,
Never there.
First He showed me a better dream.
Then He smiled and we shared a laugh,
For I saw at last it was true.
The way of Him is perfect love.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
We Who Dream
We who dream that separation is law; we who invented a separate world, peopled with separate selves, different from us, cry out to Something that may or may not be real, without questioning what Real means. We question nothing, only accept what we see. We forgot we made up what we see.
We are lonely in our separation, isolated, set apart from a world outside, a world coming at us. We forgot the world is not coming at us, but from us. We seem exiled from peace, appear torn from love. We know neither of these. We believe we cannot know peace unless we knew its opposite, cannot know love without its opposite.
Peace has no opposite, nor does love, for they are the same. If we were separated selves, peace would mean different things to different people. Many would see peace as weakness, love as capitulation. All this would mean a world of chaos, billions scrambling about, afraid of the many shadows each makes then projects.
For such a world seems to be. A world that insists on being. But it is shadows we see, projected from our own fear. Separation is not law, but the invention of the fearful, we who believe we are lacking. Separation is impossible, so fear is impossible. Neither exists, for they are unreal.
The impossible did not happen. What is impossible is unreal, and only what is real exists. We made the shadows we see, then demand to be real. Everything real is love. Only this. Everything we think we see is a demand to be something we are not.
Our insistence on being is like a shout, but the shout made no sound. The extremity of our terror is nowhere and nothing. The world we insist upon never was but a whisper disguised as a shout. It had no duration at all. We only dreamed it so. Our separate world was not created.
Everything we see around us is temporary. It falls apart, degrades. We do not question what Around Us means. We question what we cannot see, ignore what we cannot touch with our fingers. We are ignoring our reality. We are hallucinating.
We think the Something to which we cry is far away. We believe it is powerless as we are, except for its rage. Yet we believe it loves us. How can we trust love that can turn to rage at any moment? This is why we fear love, believe it is weakness. But the fear is unreal, the love eternal. Only the eternal is real.
Love as love is extends and extends. It asks nothing, for it knows only itself. It gives, and by giving receives, for they are the same. Love is not angry. Anger is an expression of fear. Fear does not exist. Love as we see it is a giving in or giving up, not knowing itself. It is a demand to be set apart. Love as love is demands nothing.
It seems impossible to understand that we are not separated beings. Understanding is not necessary because we actually do understand. It is not true that we cannot see these things. All that is necessary is to accept. Understanding is a form of perception, and perception is a choice.
We fear giving up our world, but there is nothing to give up. Our world was gone in the same instant it seemed to appear. It never was, nor could ever be. We who dream awoke and realized we never left the home we could never leave. We are love as love is.
We are lonely in our separation, isolated, set apart from a world outside, a world coming at us. We forgot the world is not coming at us, but from us. We seem exiled from peace, appear torn from love. We know neither of these. We believe we cannot know peace unless we knew its opposite, cannot know love without its opposite.
Peace has no opposite, nor does love, for they are the same. If we were separated selves, peace would mean different things to different people. Many would see peace as weakness, love as capitulation. All this would mean a world of chaos, billions scrambling about, afraid of the many shadows each makes then projects.
For such a world seems to be. A world that insists on being. But it is shadows we see, projected from our own fear. Separation is not law, but the invention of the fearful, we who believe we are lacking. Separation is impossible, so fear is impossible. Neither exists, for they are unreal.
The impossible did not happen. What is impossible is unreal, and only what is real exists. We made the shadows we see, then demand to be real. Everything real is love. Only this. Everything we think we see is a demand to be something we are not.
Our insistence on being is like a shout, but the shout made no sound. The extremity of our terror is nowhere and nothing. The world we insist upon never was but a whisper disguised as a shout. It had no duration at all. We only dreamed it so. Our separate world was not created.
Everything we see around us is temporary. It falls apart, degrades. We do not question what Around Us means. We question what we cannot see, ignore what we cannot touch with our fingers. We are ignoring our reality. We are hallucinating.
We think the Something to which we cry is far away. We believe it is powerless as we are, except for its rage. Yet we believe it loves us. How can we trust love that can turn to rage at any moment? This is why we fear love, believe it is weakness. But the fear is unreal, the love eternal. Only the eternal is real.
Love as love is extends and extends. It asks nothing, for it knows only itself. It gives, and by giving receives, for they are the same. Love is not angry. Anger is an expression of fear. Fear does not exist. Love as we see it is a giving in or giving up, not knowing itself. It is a demand to be set apart. Love as love is demands nothing.
It seems impossible to understand that we are not separated beings. Understanding is not necessary because we actually do understand. It is not true that we cannot see these things. All that is necessary is to accept. Understanding is a form of perception, and perception is a choice.
We fear giving up our world, but there is nothing to give up. Our world was gone in the same instant it seemed to appear. It never was, nor could ever be. We who dream awoke and realized we never left the home we could never leave. We are love as love is.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)