where the writers are
One Who Knows

It is deep, this universal despair.  But with us walks One Who Knows.  He knows our despair is unreal.  Nothing unreal exists.  As we see what "only the love is real" means, then doors open to us.  Everything falls into place.  We begin to see the world differently, and remember: change the way you see the world, and the world you see will change. 

   The world of itself has no meaning, but the world is not of itself.  We, of ourselves (self) can do nothing, but we are not of ourselves.  We who dream of shadows on cave walls and demand they be real, we are theoretical selves.  We think we are bodies, born to "live" a short time, then whither and die.  We have names, and identities, scramble about as we scratch out our strange existence, make our mark.  We never ask, "What is it for?"  Or if we do, we really do not want an answer.  The ego tells us to seek all we want, as long as we do not find. 

   The first thing is to realize we are doing this.  I am not a victim of the world I see.  I invented it.  Listen.  If I sit in a room alone, I am not just observing my surroundings...the couch, the table, the lamps...I am making them.  Not creating, which is eternal and cannot be mistaken, but making (inventing.)  I wrote before that we invent to fill a perceived lack.  Mind is powerful.  It never stops.  The room is in my mind.  Everything is in mind.  Since I think I am in a body, I have a sense that the room is outside myself.  This is an illusion brought on by my sense that I am looking out from my own skull...the body's eyes do not see...Now, you enter the room.  You form your own version of the room.  We both telepathically agree on the basics--we see the same couch, and agree on its length, color...but there are now two rooms, two couches. 

   It is not necessary to understand this idea.  If it were, we would be hopelessly lost in our dream, and God Himself could not find us.  Beneath our insistence on being separate, isolated, we do understand.  We actually know who and what we are.  We simply ignore it in favor of dreams based on a mad wish to be someone other than Who we are. 

   This need not be.  Yesterday I sat and became still.  I mean, still.  Just for a few seconds.  Then I allowed my thoughts to come back, to rush in and have their way.  A few seconds of this, and I became still again.  There are those who are convinced this is impossible.  They are quite certain they cannot control their own minds.  Do not think this does not affect you.  There is a constant telepathic communication among all things.  "We are one" is literal. 

   The despair of a dream-world cannot prevail against reality.  Everything and everyone around us is there because we ordered it so.  Remember that we forgot that we are doing this.  But we can remember.  Go inside your mind, be still.  Ask, "What is it for?"  In our terms of time, you received the answer eons ago, in your beautiful and perfect creation. 

   What is seen "outside" is a direct result of our thought.  Herein lies not despair, but the key to our freedom.

  

  

Keywords: