Okay, follow the logic if you will. Grand schemes come from grand agendas, like academic disciplines, scientific programmes, motivational business, anything that wants to put your mind in a spell for purposes you might want or not want.
Check the spell you want, because most of living is about living under a spell.
Your desires and your needs overlap. You put yourself in a place of power and vulnerability.
There's a scalpel of truth that knows how to cut between these.
The simplicity is that each day, I'll walk, do, breathe, think, breathe, and it will make no difference to the day that I wasa born or the day I'll die.
Then again, if I'm obedient to the sensitivity of G-d acting in m,y life, there will be a difference.
I have learnt once and for all that my mind, my awareness, my sense of self, my sense of me is an utter vulnerability, a folly, a mere wish.
Truly, I have never existed in the way that faith prompts, the way I am called, the path that the tree of life expects.
My heart is like my dog's ears: waiting for a call to movement.
There are two kinds of voices I hear:
the comforting one, the challenging one.
At last I know I can choose which one to listen to.
I have stepped out on a path between these, a jetty into the estuary, lagoon and sea into which I have committed myself.
All the stories I know about truth that arrives as affection, I recognise.
No more than that. Human affection is what they set as love.
What a huge scope is left: there is much to hear, see, sense and smell, and the the close corners that come your way are the entire secret.
Check the spell you want, because most of living is about living under a spell.
Your desires and your needs overlap. You put yourself in a place of power and vulnerability.
There's a scalpel of truth that knows how to cut between these.
The simplicity is that each day, I'll walk, do, breathe, think, breathe, and it will make no difference to the day that I wasa born or the day I'll die.
Then again, if I'm obedient to the sensitivity of G-d acting in m,y life, there will be a difference.
I have learnt once and for all that my mind, my awareness, my sense of self, my sense of me is an utter vulnerability, a folly, a mere wish.
Truly, I have never existed in the way that faith prompts, the way I am called, the path that the tree of life expects.
My heart is like my dog's ears: waiting for a call to movement.
There are two kinds of voices I hear:
the comforting one, the challenging one.
At last I know I can choose which one to listen to.
I have stepped out on a path between these, a jetty into the estuary, lagoon and sea into which I have committed myself.
All the stories I know about truth that arrives as affection, I recognise.
No more than that. Human affection is what they set as love.
What a huge scope is left: there is much to hear, see, sense and smell, and the the close corners that come your way are the entire secret.
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