The Thought I Woke Up With #142

Living on Easy Street

Trying to find love here is like looking for potatoes under a concrete slab. Ha? That don’t make no sense Nick! I know cuz. But neither does looking for Love on this here Earth.

One of the most difficult lessons to grasp is that in this ego world, this ego milieu, Love does not exist. Dazed and confused in our illusory world we pretend to crave and want it, yet, in reality, Love terrifies us.

And I mean it terrifies us. It strikes such horror into our hearts that were it to reveal itself at once, we would literally disintegrate. So it reveals a little at a time, never more than we can handle.

It is because of that inherent terror that enlightenment isn’t a pleasant, cozy and romantic nice-to-have. It is practical and essential. It is a period during which time is used to adjust and acclimatize to Love and Creation, until such time that Love, the Creator, deems it safe and right to return us within itself permanently. That final step is taken only by IT.

This process happens not because Love doesn’t want us back, but because it is not possible to do so at once. A reasonable analogy would be to say that Love is like the sun. If we were to be flung into the sun, we’d burn up. Boom. Gone. But if we were to acclimatize and get closer and closer, inch our way to it so to say, we’d eventually transform into a sunray and join with it altogether.

In the meantime we pretend love is in bodies, won with perfumes, diamonds and pearls, fine champagne and satin sheets. No. Love ain’t there. Mind you, drink enough champagne and you’ll eventually see pink elephants and flying coyotes and be falling in love with lampposts. Ahh ain’t ego love grand!

I’m not saying that we cannot develop beautiful bonds and have lasting, rewarding and glorious relationships. What I am saying is that those are connections expressed in the physical but formed in the Spirit. If we can understand and grasp that, and work with that, we’re express lane heaven bound.

Now, dear reader, I will leave you with a love poem. I didn’t write it, nor do I know who did so unfortunately I cannot give credit. That does not negate the beauty and power of it though:

He was deeply in love.

When she spoke, he thought he heard bells,

As if she were a garbage truck backing up.

What?

Until tomorrow,

Signiture4

The Thought I Woke Up With #142

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