Be what you never thought
you were or could be.
Be what you most feared to be.
Unreal.
Nothing.
As insubstantial as a
thought:
For we are energy, which
is thought born,
And no thought can be
real.
For in the infinite
reality beyond what we think of as reality, there is no separate
object to perceive, about which to think.
Your Infinite I exists
there.
Your Infinite I is one
with infinite Love.
You are its creation.
Your life story and
everything attached to it is its creation.
Creation is a work of art.
The cosmos is a love
story.
The nightmare appears to
be when we believe the voice of unreason, of impossibility.
It is impossible for Love
not to be, for Love is all there is, the first cause of any
existence.
Space and time are
projections in the Mind.
Where we see separate objects and subjects, Love sees symbols and opportunities for its own
demonstration.
The purpose of all is
Love.
Loves knows itself
perfectly and without pause.
All purposes and stories
are known to it.
All stories are perfect
demonstrations of Love.
Sometimes, for the purpose
of the story, Love appears veiled. There appears to be a subjective
experience of a lack of Love, a lack of light, or whatever.
Everything you really
want, everything you really need, is a symbol of the only thing you
ever need. It takes all those forms in order to demonstrate its
nature within duality.
Love, as manifest in the
virtual realm of Mind, wants to act. In order for it to act, there
must the appearance of separation: the doer, the thing done unto, and
the act performed in time and space. Abstractions all, dreamed up and
imagined so that Mind can experience what that feels like.
The voice that speaks
subconsciously, feeding you its unreal interpretations of the unreal
dream that you seem to perceive, telling you that this world of
separation is real, is insane.
The Course in Miracles
calls this voice ego.
Ego cannot know truth, for
ego itself is born of a lie: the belief in separation from Love.
Ego must die, for it was
dead to begin with.
It is the voice of death
itself.
But seen through the eyes
of Love, even seeming death is another form of Love, dressed up for a
joke played on ego for the amusement of limitless Mind.
Death is your best friend.
Death is your liberator.
Death is the door to
infinity.
When ego dies, Love is
revealed.
Love would never abandon
us.
Love leaves bread-crumb
trails for us to follow in the dark night of delusion.
Love leaves evidence of
its nature scattered throughout the dream.
It is all Love. We need
only perceive it as it is.
When we learn the language
of Love through listening to its teacher-voice, the true meanings of
all symbols are opened to us. We no longer need to misinterpret
anything.
But we are addicted!
Hooked on drama!
The fear! Look at it,
isn’t it scary? RAWRRAWRRAWR. Vampires and zombies and killer AIs.
Evil corporations and Satanic elites. Bombs and guns and poisons,
massacres and extinctions. Rapists, psychopaths, and unrepentant
criminals. Death, danger, and destruction. Chaos and the cries of the
damned. Innocence killed, the desecration of all that is holy. War
and famine and pestilence. The looming end of the world. Not to
mention all the petty annoyances and mundane headaches: in-laws,
deadlines, taxes, the flu, and going to the dentist.
Mind has the power to
convince its limited projections, these seemingly separate beings, of
anything. Even the reality of fear and all attendant lies. It is so
convincing, because that’s what makes the story so delightful from
the viewpoint of Love.
The journey of awakening
is a joy that Mind wants to experience again and again, in all
different forms.
But once awakening has
occurred, the false-light-and-dark ceases to be and all is revealed
in the light of the Truth that always was.
We never lacked for
anything. We ourselves, as the true infinite nature, are the missing
birthright which we sought for so long. It was with us all along.
Let me tell you about a
dream I had some years ago.
I was walking in the
woods. The forest seemed dead, no green, no life. Just trunks and a
carpet of needles as far as the eye could see.
I was looking for
mushrooms. Juicy, tasty mushrooms. When I had found enough, I would
make a hot soup and eat it with gusto.
But I found not a single
mushroom, though I wandered for hours.
I didn’t want to give
up. I knew somehow that the mushrooms were there, if only I could find them.
In my discouragement, I
consoled my mind with substitute mushrooms: smooth, dark stones that
I gathered into my basket. It was somehow soothing and reassuring to
have at least some weight to carry, even if they weren’t the real
thing. It was nice to pretend. It was like an act of faith, a symbol
of what I knew deep inside. They had no value in themselves, but they
stood as placeholders and reminders of what I sought.
After a time, I
encountered two beings walking through the woods: the first living
things I had seen all day. A pair of women, about sixty or seventy
years old, dressed all in white, with an otherworldly glow about
them. They were smiling and laughing, enjoying themselves without
hurry or worry. A sense of profound peace, joy, and abundance
radiated from their presence.
They greeted me like they
knew me, like old friends. I courteously returned the greeting. They
asked me what I was doing, and I told them I was looking for
mushrooms. They spied my basket, and their eyes twinkled with
laughter.
“You’ll get a good
soup out of those, I bet,” said one. They winked at me mirthfully
as though they shared the same mind.
I grinned, a little bit
embarrassed. Silly, carrying rocks.
But their demeanor was
compassionate and loving. They went their way with an encouraging
nod, as if to say, “Keep going, don’t worry about how it looks.
You’ll be fine.”
Quite soon after, I
finally stopped. I laid down my basket of rocks and just kind of gave
up. Like I was naturally ready to stop doing what I had been doing,
to stop trying on a personal level. The fool’s errand lost its
appeal and I simply was. No urgency, no judgment. The problem
I had been struggling with was no longer a problem, it was simply a
situation that was what it was. Not even really real. Like a dream.
Right then, like magic,
the mushrooms I had been seeking were there in front of me. A big
pile of fresh, ready-picked mushrooms, each bigger than the last, neatly
stacked at the foot of a tree. More than I could even carry.
An overwhelming sense of
gratitude and relief came upon me. Now I remembered! I had picked
these for myself before time even existed. I smiled, chuckling
gently. The game was over, and I could go home.
This powerful dream has
stayed with me, and I will never forget it. The symbolism is obvious.
The seeker stopped
seeking. The object of his search never was an object in the world.
It was his already, and the imagined object “out there” was
merely its symbol. When he lost his attachment to the outer form of
the symbol, and to the idea of struggle and lack, he saw clearly.
Those women were in
heaven, walking the seeming earth but not of it. They appeared
to me as guides and allies. And yet they themselves were only dream
figures, symbols.
When the dream’s purpose
is complete and the dream body ceases to be, all there is is Mind,
waking up and moving on to yet another dream.
We can be lucid. We can be
free. We can let go of ourselves and let the Power move us.
We do not use the Force.
The Force uses us. This is the secret of the ages, long hidden, now
revealed.
Accept the truth, and lies
will have no power. Only learn to listen to the still, small voice of
truth and you will learn to recognize and reject the voice of the
idiot.
“A tale told by an
idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” This is life
through the lens of ego. Why listen? Why believe? It sure would suck
to be ego, and as long as we identify with its voice, then life
surely does suck for us.
Embrace death. The seeker
is a story with an end. It will end, and only then does the happy
dream begin.
A new year, a new
beginning. Time is over, and only the calendars and clocks tell us
otherwise. We have all the time in the world, in no-time.
What is it for? Love only.
Let’s have a good time.
Let’s have beauty and celebration. Let’s heal our ills and
comfort one another. Let’s eat and drink and smoke and make love
and do all the things we do without guilt or fear. Let’s serve
Love, because that’s why we’re here. Let’s enjoy life and
forgive all the bad. It only ever seemed like there was anything bad.
Love reigns victorious.
Have an awesome new year.