Mistaking The World We’ve Made For The Real World

Tikun Olam Wasn’t that what I was doing all along? But , I didn’t know that I was God. I did not even know if it was okay to feel everything. To feel all of their pangs and tickles, to synchronize my breath with the ones who were dying, or even to gush my tears when bathing in the glowing aura of a newborn’s entrance. The need for justice certainly arose early yet my calls for help which were masked expressions of love came out as whining or violent uncontrolled thrashings that resulted in isolation that made any possibility of effectiveness or even expression hopeless. The work I did in caves of course was unseen and dimly remembered. Yet , there was a beginning, a melting into some communal pool, a chipping of the shell through which the light could enter in. And there were bells. Church, school, news, harbingers, temple bells in the scrub trees of a Himalyan dawn, and rocks ringing in cascades, and laughter of children feeling something untainted by adult doubting, and wisdom tones ringing from the bones of the venerable ones. In our heart of hearts we all know it. We see beauty clearly just like rainbows and sunsets. We hear the harmonies from choral angels. We taste the exquisite blending of all aspects of personality and we are sustained by the compassionate fragrances of oneness. Yet, so many choose to keep on fighting, fearing that some other might take something that they cling to like breath itself. It is time now that we thrive. It is time now to celebrate that “I AM ALIVE!!!!” Wasn’t that what we could have been doing all along?