There is void in the space that we do not occupy and there is a smudge in the space we do. Our occupied space in this invisible interchange of energies is a gift. Our inclusion in the human experience, not matter how insignificant it may feel or how painful the cuts, is a measure of God's love - eve this smudge upon the void. We feel the weight of happenings, we tell the stories of hurt, we circle the wagons at the sight of danger; but the greatest of gift of any is our simple occupation of the void. So, we give our thanks when the story seems favorable, we lurk and scheme and maneuver when it does not. We often pay little attention to our behavior. Our thanks welcomes helpers unseen to the naked eye. I think our behavior is the only way to show that we occupy the space in gratitude. Our behavior recognizes our relation to the All-powerful Creator.
I sit quietly sometimes looking at the faces of those around me; I am filled with sorrow to think that anyone, anywhere would experience anything but goodness. So in mourning with those that morn, we see relics of treasures with a glassy and antique rouge. We strike an awareness pose on any infraction that we have committed. A sudden sneer can quickly become your crime. There are not too many dark places on the border that I fear. But I do fear the result of behavior. Will they be working with you this time around? Or will you be working against them? There is no way to say that I love more so I must be clear about my behavior. What I mean to say is, "If you stop for a moment, inhale the same air as those you have despised. If you taken a moment, breathe, and say a silent prayer for those around you, and if you give, without thought of return, gazing innocently into the void, you will see it. You will see the resonance of all of creation oscillating with you."
Your hopes and dreams gradually sift out the wheat from the tares. Your thoughts materialize around and the experience is pure. Why is it that some do and some do not? Is it a universe of threats puncturing the ether around you? Or is it our unwillingness to see others with this awareness? Do we offer smug criticism when we ought to offer hope and encouragement? Do we offer nails when those who need us clearly lack a hammer? I can not say that I know the truth of many things. I can say that I see only a percentage of the truth. I think I see the truth but I do not. And it is a breathtaking experience to stop and admit to myself that I do not, and in so doing, see the void. And in that void, that place where I can admit that I do not actually know the truth about anyone, I am in love.
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