Tiny rivulets from a sweet river form my Human heart, though I’ve been told this is not so. There is a place within me that holds pens and brushes and paints and inks for forming thoughts that can be seen and shared.  I am not alone when I go within and stay a while.  The serenity in my Heart lets me know that all is well and never will be otherwise.  This serenity is freedom, a place so joyful that it cannot be talked about only basked in and treasured as a sure place of refuge.

But, refuge from what?  There is none but goodness to be found.  Refuge, it would seem, from one’s own thoughts and attitudes and beliefs.  There is no life but the Self and the playful many, many little selves that are but one in Oneness.  There is no world to resist and hold at bay as if one could be entered into unbidden and depleted of stores and staples.  There is no world that can come and harm, save the thinker thinking harshly upon the self and ordering a hard day into existence.

Yes, within me is an Oasis that holds continents of possibilities and lands filled with breathtaking beauties and goodnesses.  Out of a seeming nothing is the something born. Out of sleep is the dream created.  I go within to find the gentle self and bring forth the new and entirely true.

The night is filled with Stars.  Come, let’s go stand among them.

All around the room I live in are chairs waiting to be seen and used.  They are soft and have rounded corners, just right for rest and relaxation.  They don’t want to be anything other than what they are and they are proud to offer of themselves to me and to my needs throughout the day.  They were born for the times that bring pauses in clauses of livingness.

I like the chairs that live in the room of my inner house.  I like the chairs that hold my hopes and keep my dreams from getting tired.  I like myself when sitting in one of my chairs knowing that it waited for me while I spent time visiting that most remarkable of spinning planets. The two of us are filled with amazement at the kind of tales I tell of it.

No, I am never alone, in my other world.  I am filled with friendliness of many kinds.

Enter here where the light is holding a door open for you, dear one.  Enter into a room
with no view other than the one leading to your inner being.  There cannot be made dreams from closed doors.  There is only the possibility of fear to one whose heart beats merely for worldly success.  To make it happen will not make it happen.  To will it will not make it so.  Keep moving forward unconcerned for this or that and that or this.  Move forward and let the day unfold solutions to questions asked and results hoped for.  Be no other person but the one you are and let the day reveal the matter of the matter.  There is nothing to do but to be and be happy by simply being.

I try too hard, the clouds tell me.  I turn in upon myself and search for motives that cannot be found in simply moving forward without analysis.

Why do you attempt to learn from others?  Why do you need to make sure another knows?  There is no point to it.  There is nothing to get right.  Get on with the work, the work that is yours to do.  There is no other thing to do but fill the day with the activity of the thing intended.  Write and paint and shop and clean and share with friends the goodness from your heart.  Make nothing happen.  Life happens on its own, by itself, and the day dawns when greater serenity of spirit takes over the mind, for there is wisdom in hopes kept alive.

You never know when there will be a breakthrough of spirit.  Keep close to the idea that spirit is at hand, just as there is always light coming through your work.  Just as you do not know what light comes through your work and cannot deliberately make it happen, so too, do you not know how to make the world come to your door for what you have to give by being clever and smart and deliberate about what you give.  It comes quietly this thing you cannot see or predict or make happen.  You don’t know what fertile ground it will fall on.  It will reach its own through no effort or deliberate action or willfulness on your part.  But it will come, never fear.  It will come and in ways that you cannot, do not, need not, predict.

This is what is being said to you; do not choose a better place or time for the gentle seed to be planted.  Know that everything good you see in your work is with you in all ways, at all times.  Do not wait for the ”momentous moment” when you will be brilliant, more brilliant than you are now.  Proceed, move on, carry on, now, knowing that this thing inhabits you and seeks expression.  And let it be so, and be there with it unconcerned for the how, or the when, or the why, or anything that causes you to stiffen and force and doubt.

The thing you seek is ever with you, and you knew this once in quiet ways.  It is with you now, in you, as you, and for you.  The truth in your work is at hand in your life and in your very being.  Tender and true to itself and ever able to give forth, but it is not of your doing, not a bit of it.  Relax.  Take no hold for making it happen, understand that it cannot go away.  Nor can it be made to do what human will dictates.  It is not a beast of burden, nor are you.  You are the vessel for goodness ever creating out of the moment.  It will be ever thus.  See that this is true and be filled with hope and gladness that you are who you are.  The beauty you see in your work is in your very self and ever at hand but is not needing to be thrust here and there as you see fit.  It will land where it is heard and understood, where a garden of unearthly delights can grow and be managed by a soul filled with yearning and comprehension.  What you’ve wanted to be your mission is your mission but you have very little to do with it.  No management, no marketing strategy, is required of you, only knowing, trusting, in the thing you are and what you have to give.

So, every outing into the world is a good one for you take your inner sun with you.  It will shine on those who want its glow to remember their own.  Do not make it that which makes you important in your own eyes.

There lives an inaudible whisper in a corner of my room.  It lives there night and day. The other parts of the house are perfectly normal.  I bang around in them and get the usual things done while the days flow into night, and round and round we go.

But, there, in that littlest corner, the one you do not ever notice for there is nothing about it to draw your attention, there in that corner, is the Understanding that came with me into this world.  It parked itself quietly, unobtrusively, waiting for me to look there while the world called me to look elsewhere.  It loves me, you see, that Quiet One.  It knows what is real and it knows that I will return to the quiet side of things … before too long.

Look again, they say.  Is there anything in that corner but where two walls meet?  Of course not, you delude yourself, they tell me.  No, there is nothing to see there.  Not one little thing.  But I know in, nothing, is the Quiet One, the substance of all things made form, of every impulse to love and give forth.

Unencumbered am I in expression, for I carry the Vast Nothingness of this instant to all I do and express.  I do not repeat the past for I am not weighted down by that which has been … or will be.  It is sweet this life lived for the moment, knowing that as I play at being human, It will honor my needs and play along with my perceptions so that I know kindness where there appears discord — I will not be fooled by the passing images of the world.

What I give to myself becomes my life.  I give to myself awareness of the Vast Nothing out of which all comes.  It is my softest acknowledgement of It that makes Its Presence known to me.

It’s so simple, really.