Crown of Petals

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If, while looking upon a flower, someone knelt beside you and whispered in your ear, “Therein sits God,” would you continue to call the flower, a flower? Would not the stem become a scepter and the ring of petals become a crown? If you looked upon a tree and were told that the Divine saturated every leaf, would you continue to use the word tree, or would you call it Heavenly? Would you call a rock, a simple rock, if the whisperer explained that the stone hums along with the entire universe? Would a mountain become a throne? Would not a blade of grass become an ornament of light, a glorious undulation of the whole? What if you could grasp, even for an instant, the marvel of this Unity? How would life change?

If you knew the Divine was in the air, how differently would you breathe? If you knew the Divine was under your feet, how more carefully would you tread? If you knew that the Divine were in every drop of water, how differently would you bathe each limb of your body? If you knew such things, would you partition one thing sacred and the other not?

Would you continue to restrict Divinity to a temple, or a book, or to the Heavens? Would you keep parceling and partitioning yourself and the world, or would you seek out the Presence in all places? Would you at last accept your identity as a precious jewel in the fabric of the whole?

Yet, there is a separation. You are here and the flower is there. But, the whisperer explains: the flower helps us to forget our wholeness for a while, to help us understand that we delve and dance with a will of our own, even as we play within the wonder of creation, within the unity that Is, in the Oneness that will always hold us.

Immensity

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The mountain, the stone, products of time and hardship, grow and recede, soar and dissolve, to perhaps flourish again under different oceans.

With gentle motion all drifts and melts with grace: the pirouette of a tumbleweed, the leaf loosed from its parent, the blade of grass that flickers, the slow curl of ivy as it climbs the mute fissures of mortar, the shadow that drifts across the immensity… Every grain and pebble; a wanted, necessary piece, playing its part in the dance of all that is and always must be.

To be aware, awake to the wonder–that, perhaps, is the greater task, to capture a glimpse of its vastness and let all complexity yield to this marvelous, elegant world: A creation that evolves and beckons me to evolve with calm reverence.

All Is Already Known

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My guide’s voice dipped into my conscience and told me clear that All is already known.
The moon spins, the stars explode, the blood of the Universe pumps, regardless of how I whirl in my anxiety to understand. You understand; that is what I now grasp.
The ocean bed of life exists without my appraisal. All is in order: all planets, particles and pathways are known, of course.
The forests and lakes, the seas and jungles all continue without a man’s understanding. Even my own body works despite my great ignorance: It maneuvers, heals and sleeps. Within it I am alive and well, able to go about the experiences of Earth.
Indeed, All is already known and held together so perfectly, with such precision that there is safety in the acceptance of its certainty.
It is plain for everyone to see that all that does exist is grandly organized and pays no heed to the speculative mind.
The spider spins, the hills roll, my heart beats and I am destined to seek. The daisy will bloom whether I grasp its nature or not and that nature is known to You, a mind.

Advice From A Tree

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Live your life grounded in the Earth, but always stretching toward the light. When all is calm, rest quietly and learn: the soil will give you strength, the breeze will bring you language, the Sun will send you flowers.

When a storm is nigh, bend with the wind as best you can. If calamity should strike, you will grow again, however impossible it may seem. The great life has given you that power to do so.

Give shelter and food to those in need, taking care to offer a gentle word. Yet know that sure enough, they will fly away. Each has its own riddle to solve.

As to a tree in a richer clime, well, it is there and I am here. I will make the best of things for now. I will tend to this garden with all of my capacity. And when you create a thing of beauty, do not cling and spoil the fruit of your heart. Give freely to the world. Not every seed will sprout but when one does, how the birds do sing!