I am a mystery to myself

I am a mystery to myself and to others. Others are a mystery to me. We are each mysteries that grow as we grow. We are rays of the eternal and efinite mystery–the enigma that is out of time, out of limits, beyond bounds. (Looks like efinite is a word I had to find–or that found me–and not many have used it, if any. It simply needed to be: out of the limited.)

This fits with the wind that I am, too. Wind is always a mystery. We do not know where it comes from or where it goes, or whom it will choose to embrace and caress–but we know it will touch us all. The mysterious wind. Not a title to hold, for we cannot hold a mystery. Simply a descriptive.

Mystery: we cannot have life all figured out. I would not want to: how boring! Meet it new each day. See what wonders are brought forth continually for us. Mystery, my friend. Another name for G-d. O G-d of a thousand names, none of which name you, none of which delimit you, all of which inform us and expand our understanding of you! When shall we begin to touch you? What life we could have! Engage! Meet! Sacrifice–self, which means to today’s humans, sacrifice your plans, control, best thoughts–and see what more comes up for you.

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on October 1st, 2005 | No Comments »

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