...joyously accept your boundaries as a conditional lover. Do not think that you aren't. By accepting your loving limitations, only then can your love begin to explore the nature of "that without condition, shape, or form."
2007.1126.0255 Talking, thinking and addiction. The primary question initially was, "why does Larz seem to be addicted to talking? Is ADHD or other mental disorders important to be addressed in addiction, especially through biochemical or more precisely neuropharmaceutical -- or neuropharmacological methods? Is addiction a gift or a curse? Is mental illness a gift or …
In fact, we remain hidden even unto ourselves and in some ways to god. God has imbued each of us with a true nature, but the nature of the creative process allows for seeming individuation that prevents the creator from "knowing all there is to know." To some degree, God's creations surprise even himself as he expands outward into his own creations.
Consciousness is not bound by the laws of physics and math, and so relegated to the logic domains of a system intrinsically biased. In other words, great flexibility is found once the channel begins to open and more of the message comes thru then the biases of the fingers typing it.
That I have an inner voice that speaks to me is truly a gift and it's enough. I'm blessed to have the Gift of a Channel and I'm thankful for what little I have and have to give. I'm sorry if I've blasphemed, slandered or offended. But, in our land of liberty, perhaps I really am free to choose my own higher power or better yet, create it. Maybe you can, too, if what's out there doesn't work for you either.
The time of the old is over. The time of squabbling monkeys has past and the new silence is upon us. We are currently alone in our awe, we are alone in the deep silence of space, and we can stop squabbling long enough to listen to the sounds of our Hubble Ears and Webb Eyes, we can shuttle into space and to the moon, and we can venture like scared little animals leaving their den, forced to forage on their own as their parents have seemingly left. But our parents have not left, they have written the Book of Life on our hearts and still sing within our cells.
Alex stood there, fuzzy head pressed through the twisted iron banister, mental wheels spinning. We were playing living room fetch but I had bounced the ball slightly too hard and it had bounced through the open banister, down the stairs & came to rest at the front door. Not only was this twisty iron in …