Large colorful ribbons crisscross the sky above me. They hold layers of understanding I cannot quite describe. But I live in a place where description is demanded of me because, here, perception is a thing blind to inner knowing. What is to be shared must be said aloud.
When I write, I do not worry about being blind to reality. I ask myself questions that burst with answers before the asking is completed. I live a Deep Mystery from an inner self that is not mysterious. It is in allowing for mystery that my soul is at peace and fulfilled because I trust what is invisible. I watch as my neighbor forages endlessly in the bowels of the earth for the wisdom I find instantly in the unseen. In looking to the hidden, I uncover a bountiful Basket of subtle provisions brought to my door of awareness. It has appeared unsought by me for it is unnecessary to seek what is already here. Life is ever present, and I know it.
I have another kind of cherished basket, too. One lovingly woven of reed and grass. I feel its love as it becomes filled with the fruit and bread of this world, the goodnesses that nourish me in a seemingly different way. It is interesting that this simple woven thing has been made by hands―hands belonging to quiet people who say little but leave deep meaning in their weaving. As you see, my outer world is as comforting to me as is my inner world of Soul. The one Love inhabits both.
I am reverent of the gifts that effortlessly enter my human world each day. I find useful creations brought forth by people whose names I will never know―people who represent the fulfilled expression of the infinite source of all. It’s true that in some parts of my day appear others clamoring for me to know their name by giving me not much more than their own brand of noise, but I never look there long because I know myself to be whole. What I hear in them is my own passing self-doubts. I live in a reality that always speaks to me truthfully of my own consciousness.
And so as I reduce to words this wonderful truth of my life, I go forward in my day knowing there is within me a deeper world, a sweeter truth, that makes the merely symbolic, rich with meaning.