I cannot touch you and yet here in this 3D simulation, the dream in Godmind, I encounter gloriously touching experiences. Perhaps, that is why we incarnate, to savor the sensation of touch, to feel a fuzzy peach, to stroke a bearded face, to glory at all the wonders of this world and marvel at these forms that touch so mysteriously magically makes feel real.
This I Am has no arms to hold me, no lips to brush across my neck. There is no I nor you, simply This. Perhaps that is why This blossoms as the world, why light bursts into form, why the infinite invisible becomes finitely visible.
Or maybe we incarnate to experience beauty, the simple beauty of form, the beauty inherent in aliveness, in laughter, in falling tears, in a shy smile, a come hither wink, or the awe-filled recognition of the miracle that all life is.
This I am is everything, is awareness aware of itself, pure potential, the ground of being. How could This is which all beauty arises experience beauty without the finite, without creation, without form?
Or just perhaps we incarnate to experience love, messy human love, ecstatic sacred love, unconditional unconfined totally untethered love that shatters the sense of separation and reminds us of our reasonless reason for being, the sourceless origin, the stateless state, without form at all. When we fall in love, in that moment we dissolve, separation vanishes, we are This in form. There’s a reason it feels so right, why it feels like home.
THIS is love, all-consuming, all-inclusive love, nothing but love. Love cannot experience itself without contrasts of subject object, of awareness aware of life. Imagine swimming in a sea of blue looking for a blue ripple. Impossible!
Maybe we are This at play, experiencing all life has to offer, perceptions of beauty, the richness of diversity, colors galore and all their shadings, light and shadow, sagas of life and death, the delights of sensation, touching the world, touching each other, the stunning cacophony of tastes and smells, the deep sound of a gong, a city waking up after the night’s quiet, a farm cackling humming mooing, the baby’s infectious laughter, your beloved whispering I love you. All. Of. It.
THIS is beyond and within all play, this in which all arisings arise, this from which manifestation is born and into which it dies. There is nothing but This – the infinite eternal unmanifest and This playing, This is motion, This in form. Not two at all. There is no dividing line, no above and below, no in and out, nor awake and asleep. There is only This.
So fall in love. Deeply. Madly. Without any conditions. Fall in love with a messy human. Fall in love with life. Fall so deeply there is no you and them to fall. Let your fingers gently touch the world, your nervous system open to feel it all. Let the dam break and hold back nothing. Feel the fullness of life’s offering., opening your being to the beauty that is everywhere. Let life enchant and amuse you. Let it fulfill its design with your blessing. Live my love, live.