Particles, atoms, cells, creatures, planets, stars, galaxies, universes, egos, spirits, souls, energy, information, consciousness, dimensions countless, realities within realities, eternities within eternities, infinities within Infinity, a merry go round being pushed, spinning ever faster; STOP! Be still, be silent; there was no he having these thoughts, it was not about his experience, only experience or his life, only life or his LOVE, only LOVE.
He was not the painter, the painting, the paint, the canvas, the brush, not even a brush stroke was he. Perhaps, maybe, a fine line of a bristle from the brush? No not even that, for in the hand of the creator blended so well into creation that even his fine line could not be discerned. He knew he was in truth nothing but God or whatever you choose to call the sourceless source experiencing it’s non-self and what a divinely, sublimely, glorious thing that he, that was not, had been blessed to be; with joyous grateful glee, he shuddered.
“You will be what you dream yourself to be and you can dream yourself to be anything, for I have been dreaming an infinite dream, for Infinity, for you to be. So dream well, dream LOVE”, echoed without sound the voice of the sourceless source, to the he, that was not…
“God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.” ~ Dag Hammarskjold
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.” ~ Albert Einstein