A note to the false self

His face is a storm, all clouds and thunder. I fear getting close because of the possibility of lightning. But if no one ever goes out in bad weather, then he’ll be out there all alone forever. So, I venture out and touch his pain with silence. Don’t mistake my silence for something that it is not; I am not complicit. I am listening. 

Don’t mistake my silence for something it is not. I do not condone the actions of mad men and women. In the quiet I am consenting to the Presence within my actual body and sinking below the surface on which the game is played into the Silent Center where the players and all the fields upon which they play are sourced.

What’s your strategy for moving through the mess? Shouting, marching, typing away furiously, so that all your thoughts go rocketing onto the official record? Good, I am with you. My approach is different. Not better, not right. Different. I want to go deeper. Not deeper than you, it’s not like that. I am not comparing. I am sharing.

Jesus said, “Put out into the deep water.” Those words carry my mind into the depths of my heart, thus the heart becomes a cognitive organ and a place from which all my moves proceed. Something happens in the deep and now it’s not me that is acting, it is God acting in me, through me. Finally, perhaps I am becoming useful for the cause of love which has been unfolding with patient purpose for nearly 14 billion years. I can’t help but smile at the privilege and the joy of being a part of it all. Who better than us to keep the flame of love alive in such strange weather?