"Then Abraham fell upon his face, and laughed, and said in his heart, Shall a child be born unto him that is an hundred years old? and shall Sarah, that is ninety years old, bear?"(Genesis 17: 17)
As we get older, we can still bear spiritual fruit. Perhaps even more so. Though we have stumbled and fallen many times over the course of our decades, we have learned and are learning to walk in a more centered and radiant fashion.
The-One-Who-Breathes-Us is still with us, ever patient, ever compassionate, ever requesting that we open to the joys of existing, allowing us to know, to experience that the burning flame of suffering is also radiant light. The flesh of aging suffers but the compassionate open heart is consumed with quiet and radiant joy.
A child is born. Who and what is this child? It is ourselves. We are born again and again. Newness unfolds. Like a flame rising upward from a burning log. The log is decomposing and will eventually return to ground, even as the flame leaps into the air.
We are born into a realm in which we already are. All comes from the One. All lives in the One. All returns to the One from which it never left. We gain experience embodying as flesh. Our woundings are mouths that speak our truth.
We fall on our face and laugh. Partly in disbelief that newness will come, is coming again, and again. Partly in surprised joy. We rise up, give birth to the newness of our being.
As we get older, we can still bear spiritual fruit. Perhaps even more so. Though we have stumbled and fallen many times over the course of our decades, we have learned and are learning to walk in a more centered and radiant fashion.
The-One-Who-Breathes-Us is still with us, ever patient, ever compassionate, ever requesting that we open to the joys of existing, allowing us to know, to experience that the burning flame of suffering is also radiant light. The flesh of aging suffers but the compassionate open heart is consumed with quiet and radiant joy.
A child is born. Who and what is this child? It is ourselves. We are born again and again. Newness unfolds. Like a flame rising upward from a burning log. The log is decomposing and will eventually return to ground, even as the flame leaps into the air.
We are born into a realm in which we already are. All comes from the One. All lives in the One. All returns to the One from which it never left. We gain experience embodying as flesh. Our woundings are mouths that speak our truth.
We fall on our face and laugh. Partly in disbelief that newness will come, is coming again, and again. Partly in surprised joy. We rise up, give birth to the newness of our being.
Thank you, I needed these words this morning
ReplyDeleteGeorge, I love you, my brother. Again, your writing has pulled the morning blankets off me and awakened me to that which is breathing me as I breathe it into Being. Thank you. Onward!
ReplyDeleteI agree with these others: what a fine message for starting the day and the week. Thank you.
ReplyDelete