Baby sparrows flap their wings and chirp loudly beside their foraging mother who is unaware that her quest for crumbs lies only inches away on my table. Similarly, the Truth is nearer than your breath, but in this case the myopic vision of the false self senses looks high and low for what cannot be found ‘out there’. Even the tiniest crumbs of Truth are vastly more beautiful than the most delectable feasts the false self can concoct for its endless followers … blindly lining up for a glimpse of the next enticing illusion.
Such is the fool’s adventure we have all paid the entrance fee to join. The luscious fruit of Freedom hangs from every tree but eyes are cast downward under eons of weighted expectations that never materialized. Even for those who have tasted of the greatest delights the world of dreams can offer, always there is a craving for more, for something new and different to make the dead feel alive.
This ship of fools we have all sailed, has been our undoing but also a prerequisite. For the person you call ‘you’, the deeper dive will never occur to you as more than an insane fantasy, “How could what I seek be ‘unseen’ and ‘unknown’?” … the false self protests. And yet finally, crawling across the desert of dreams, the naked parched and wretched slumbering God-SELF is ‘ready’ for Truth.
Welcome the blessing of your challenges as the enormous gifts they are.
BOOKS by John McIntosh
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