I’m beginning to think that THAT kind of love, you know, the truest kind of LOVE, Divine Love if you will — the kind of love we dream about and which we secretly (or openly) yearn for — just doesn’t “work” here.
It seems to me, more and more each day, that the sheer mundanity of daily living — commuting to work or grocery shopping or running errands — essentially, the kind of life that is considered NORMAL just crushes beneath its monotonous weight anything delicate and beautiful. That, for lack of a better expression, anything truly sublime struggles against this horizontalizing weight.
Which is to say, I suppose, that what passes for love here is, at best, a shadow. Something superficially sentimental. Not necessarily bad, but not necessarily great.
Oh, and how I long to plunge into those suffocating depths.
Maybe that’s why Lightworkers are here. To clear away the heaviness. To open a space where LOVE can finally flower (and no longer underground or in disguise) rather than stuck in the cracks of a society hell-bent on competition, and therefore destruction.
And the “price” which so many “pay” and the pain borne under this crushing weight.
The fact of the matter is that heaven is already here, and not merely as a potentiality or ideal. “IT” is REAL, but not in any way religion would like you to believe (and behave) — as some grand prize waiting for good boys and girls who play by their rules. There is no proverbial carrot to their proverbial stick.
So if “heaven” is a state of mind (or state of grace) then for “what” or “when” do you wait?