It is important to integrate the volume of thought to the nothingness of being.

I will see then, that the room I live in is more than I thought and greater even than that. There are very soft and quiet things to do that are the opposite of what I have been told to do, which is why life has not been comfortable. Power is not found in effort. There is unlimited power in silence. In my silent mind.

Memories are distinct, they resonate with feeling. There are memories of yesterday and more yesterdays that control my life today. But life is not memory, there is no clutter in the simple Present. Nothing can be done with memory but make me create within its margins. My memories have colored what is new and fresh with what is no more. And maybe never was as I remember. I am told to make memories. So many people say this. They become upset if you don’t agree so I find myself writing gingerly today as if staring down a taboo. How sincere are people. How attached to their minds. How reliant on their memories for a sense of self.

As I stand three paces from my memories, I will always remember what to do. I will follow the natural laws of any world I live in and remain in a safe universe. Memory is for this purpose. I want to use it for this purpose. I know each day begins as an open, unwritten book. The Book of My Life. Each page offers a brightness of possibilities. Each page is a waiting story of curiosity and surprise. My curiosity and my delightful surprise. Why bring in the past as an established and eternal reality? Even a sweet one? Today has a sufficiency untapped.

This morning as I wrote and drank my coffee, I learned that I give memories importance because other people do. And only for that reason.

There is a gentle meadow in back of my house. Its quiet demeanor is never far from my awareness as I walk through the rooms that make up my little cottage far from the clamoring world. I live on an island that it is surrounded by a thoughtful sea that brings waves and waves of constancy for me to dwell upon as I gaze over its expanse. Its movements cradle me. I am contained by kindness.

In the back room of my house there is a tiny secret door that has no need of a lock, it keeps itself open for me. It is my entrance into this world for I do not come from here. Because it is my dearest wish to visit, I do so every morning. Mornings were invented for this purpose, though it appears no one knows this. There is much talk of “mysteries” here, which is funny to me as All has been given to be known.

Until today, I have thought it best to not speak of this natural start to the day, for it is not deemed scientific. But it gives me great peace of mind to tell the truth and it makes me feel in good accord with myself when I hear myself say it. No one can prove Life’s reality to another, one can only live it in oneself. We each are sacred Beings. There is no mystery in that.

As I sit here this morning, I concern myself with every other morning I will live. I am all over the place but not here. I live this life by ordering up the kind of experience I found in old-fashioned Automats—I have to consider everything I see and claim it.

Nevertheless … nothing is more real than the nothing. I have secret tools of navigation that absorb the shadows cast by my doubting for there are stars that light my night sky making me sure-footed and able. To look to the nothing is to make the universal reality come alive within me.

Nothing is my very nature, it is me. I am the sunlight to my senses. I am the moon that moves the tides of my well-being to affirm the hopes that form my limbs for walking forward. There are deep forests in the midst of the hot boisterous world of my daily life where I find cool streams and tender flowers growing that speak of new beginnings, fresh starts that bring safe arrivals. I cannot make a mistake and be forever held in its harm.

As I sincerely write and acknowledge a nothing that is Something, the morning brings a substantial rain to fall on my forgotten inner plains and my hidden potential has burst into bloom and flourished. I am awake now.

For me did this happen. I need no one else. Just myself. But I must surely visit with myself to find it.

Tell me what to remember, I implore myself. Take me beyond my senses to what of me is true.

I sit in a chair that contains my presence in a room that keeps itself in Space and Time, just for me. My inner world remains harmonious even amidst the discord invented by delusion. My inner world is real.

What can I do for you, asks the pillow I rest my head upon—its soft presence is so peaceful. All the objects of my world have assembled to bless my time on Earth. Each came to bring me the gift of itself for my fulfillment. To know that this is the true reality, brings me joy in a world that does not know wondrous magic.

Yes, to know aliveness, is my primary happiness. From it opens all the rest of my life like a paper flower in a bowl of water. I am meant to glide softly in the Infinite Sea of Life that contains my life and let it create my most unique world from my dreams. I am breathed. I am thought. I take pleasure in this breath I am. I take pleasure in this thinker I am. I am a knower, a believer, one reliant on a safe Universe, where my entire being is cherished, guided, loved, upheld, and provided for.

It gives me joy to know the poetry of life, and to sense the deeper reality of the trees, the creatures of the Earth, and the imaginary world of “inanimate material things.” It makes me happy to be on Earth and remember where I come from and what I can hope for. I am alive in my mind and unbound by linear time. I am a Spiritual Being. And I know it.

There are writings on the walls of my inner room where I find all I love and hope for. I tell no one, but I tell myself. The world will blossom and receive my quiet knowing as the invisible and silent Wind stirs me into the creation of my dreams. Remember, it whispers. Remember who you are.

My dreams are the ones I brought with me to build the castles in the air of illusion. I come from beyond time and space and have remained a part of the Silver River that holds all things in its current. From within it my dream castles materialize brilliantly.

Today I am stringing words to bring my inner self to visibility that you may join me in remembering to place your dreams into the Silent Invisible of your true self and make happiness. This is how the real story of humanity is written—we are the Adventurous Oracles for the Mind that is Infinite. We weave magical castles out of our feeling thoughts that make our PlanetGarden grow and, we, with it.