The Thought I Woke Up With #273

Today a simple question you might actually want to stop and think about.

The Creator, or God if you prefer, is, it is said, Love. Using simple and straightforward logic therefore you, me, and everyone else is Love also. It can’t be otherwise. Two rabbits cannot reproduce a zebra, right? You can’t have a pair of moose do the romantic waltz and make a peacock. Like produces like, it’s basic stuff. I mean even thinking about This and That getting romantically involved and producing a weirdo type third thing doesn’t make any sense at all.

So how come the reality as we experience it is so vastly different? Diametrically so indeed? Why, and how come, is it that the Creations of Love have as their environment a world that is for the most part unspeakably harsh, filled with unimaginable dangers and treachery the scope of which not even the great novelists are capable of conjuring up?

Heck, we can’t even agree on what to call the thing that allegedly made us; Creator, God, Allah, El, Saviour, Om, the Great IS and whatever, whatever. As if the name matters. It’s a bit like sheep debating what to call the shepherd.

More to the point, who cares! But it’s not about that. No. There’s a great, great deal more to it than a seeming reticence to come together on the issue of naming; what to call that which is in reality the most basic and real question there is; who, or what, created us, and everything connected with, and relative to, us?

The very question sends shivers down humanity’s collective spine. So to try and compensate for the mad response and insane-like behavior humanity comes up with stories. Volumes upon volumes of stories; the Bible, The Bhagavad Gita, The Qur’an, The Book of Mormon, Tao Te Ching, The Torah, Dhammapada and the list could go for quite a while.

The very notion that so many different versions of god and the word, are out and about says it all. None are in reality necessary. Only one thing is required; Open your heart to the Creator and communicate with Him in the way you were created to do. That’s it.

There’s a reason God hasn’t chosen to write a book. What? You don’t think he can / could have? Get real. God doesn’t write books because God doesn’t communicate through them. Nor does God do Saturday Night Live, the Benny Hill Show, Charlie Browns Christmas or Knots Landing. Well, He might take a sneak-peek at Charley Brown, but I’m just making a point.

Here’s one definition of Religious Texts; “These are texts which various religious traditions consider to be sacred, or central to their religious tradition.”

You know what would be the best cure for all these “sacred texts?” Burn the lot of them. Yes. Turn the whole lot into ashes and scatter them to the four corners of the world, never to pollute the minds of men, women and children again.Then get one universal, little book, just a tiny one, with a tiny message. Love Yourself.

Practice that message and hurl the rest of the holy books down the proverbial toilet and see what happens to You and the world.

Oh, the question to stop and think about for a brief moment – Why don’t you love yourself?

No, I don’t mean treat yourself to the latest fashionable trinket type love, I mean LOVE YOURSELF.

Until tomorrow,


The Thought I Woke Up With #273

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