Without energy and realization all the play with words and concepts is gray and colorless. Gray people can also talk of light and dark, of dualism and non-dualism, of Christ or Buddha, or cosmic consciousness. But in the gray world, it’s all the same, all illusions dressed in fancy words, no light, no life, no color, no realization.
We begin to be when we love, because love is the nature of our deeper being. Love is the central part of “I” and inherent in self realization. To the degree that we truly love, we discover who we are. To the degree that we love, we become who we are. So, in love there is always the deep sense of finding ourselves, for to love truly is to realize we are love. Love is not separate from what we are but integral to the innermost nature of our consciousness. It is the essential spiritual power and an ever present potential of our being, of our real self. It is the energy and life that we are, therefore, to know who we are is to realize: “I am love.”
We would like perpetual renewal of life and vitality. We would like to feel that dawn is coming with a rush of new benevolent energy. We would like to be in spirit like the best morning of our life, to find in the light of new day the best actions and words.
About words, today, I reiterate a bit of transpersonal semantics conducive to renewal: a word is, or might be, sacred. I do not fancy myself religious in any conventional sense, but there is a good idea in the religious of the world, that of “sacred word.” I do not say it is in bibles or churches. But it might be in you. And if we were to meet, I would listen for it. You might not even know you spoke it, but I fancy that I would hear and know.
In the garden, the child asks, “Where is God?” With omnipresence, we might find God behind that curtain of galaxies in the far depths of space, or in the gift of flowers? Where is God the child asks. Smiling mother touches the child’s forehead and answers, “Right here.”
Galaxies might look severe, yet It must be a fiery but gentle God that nurtures the aura of youth, for the muted radiance of the child is easy on the eyes. Still, galaxies can not be discounted. Isn’t God more intense than the brightest sun? Some imagine approaching the God of all things directly. and right now, yet even the distant center of our modest solar system gives us sunburn. And it’s not hard to picture that even a lesser angelic visitor may be more than our eyes can bear. It seems degrees of separation are required for our protection, and serious adaption to the advancing radiance. But even with the dangers of life, there remains the wonderful concept of a vast hierarchy of light, otherwise the gulf between man and deity would be impassable.