The Peace of the Ages

It begins with the body's eyes closed. The Flow comes in, I can feel it. It does not bring words, I translate what it brings into words. Two weeks ago, in my terms of time, I asked what else it wanted me to say.

The reality is infinitely better than all our many beliefs. But where is this reality? It must be right here, where "we" seem to be. "Look. I am with you always." --Jesus Christ.

There is no anger here. I sense no jealousy, nor vengeance. I am not afraid. I have no sense that I will be kept out of some exclusive club simply because I do not subscribe to certain beliefs. The Flow brings its gift of perfect love, and only this.

I say these things not to change anyone's mind. Our many beliefs form our own version of reality, but they do nothing to the one Reality of Who and What we really are, beneath dreams of separation. We all, each one, are "where" the deeper part of us chose to be.

I say these things because I have felt them since I was very small. Even during the long years of my turning away from them, they remained with me. I trust them. I do not care that I cannot see, I trust them anyway, because I trust their Source. Here is the peace of the ages.

I know I will not be slapped down for my reverence to the Source. I come in the light of my reverence, see not the structure of my altar, but the altar itself. I believe not in mad skies, the bitter doom of a cosmic punisher.

Our ego will not prevail against this peace, as the ego is unreal. The peace is very real. Only what is real exists. The ego is our thought of separation, the body is its home. The whole world is made to support the body, and maintain the dream of our being separate from each other. But we are one. Not simply different "special" versions of one life, but one whole infinite Self; innocent, perfect, holy.

We forgot that we are creators. We forgot that we did not create ourselves. We forgot our Source. We forgot that we are one with our Source. And yet, all is well. All is well because it is not the Will of our Source that anything but perfect peace, perfect love, be ours. We forgot to laugh at simple images, and now we think the images are real. "I am with you always."


Only perfect love exists. Only this. Everything else is make-believe. I seek the peace even as it surges through the body's fingers as they type; I seek it even as it informs my unending trust in it; I seek what has always been mine...been ours, as one.

The Sky

The sky was (is) bright, clouds parting as I drifted past. Oh the peace. I mean peace with no opposite. This is the point, you see. There is no opposite to peace as peace is, beneath the ego's shouts to the contrary.

The sky did not ask my religion, nor my politics, nor my nationality. It was simply blue with some clouds. It was silent, and the depth of its silence cannot be expressed with any language. No strings attached.

Reality has no opposite. Joy, love, peace, as they are, simply live forever unopposed, because nothing else exists. Only this.

I Choose Sight

Our thoughts, or what we call our thoughts, appear as images; we call these images "the world". I see my own version of the world, and you see yours. We both agree telepathically that we are seeing the same world (the same room, the same basketball, the same car.) But I can't see through your eyes, and you can't see through mine.

We are not meant to be separate beings, and so in truth, we are not. It's a dream, a wispy veil covering our true sight. What we actually are is beyond words, and not of this world. There is no language that can be employed to describe it (us).

The ego is still present in me. The ego is the thought we had that we were suddenly separated from our Creator. We now think that we are each an isolated being, set off one from the other. I can tell the ego to get behind me, as Jesus Christ told Satan (I believe Satan is a symbol for the ego).

The ego does not exist. We invented it when we found we could no longer see our Creator. Invention comes from a sense of lack; but there is no lack. We believe in scarcity. We are confused and frightened. We forgot to laugh when the images (the world) came into our awareness. Then we forgot we are doing this. Now we are convinced that the world is very real, and that it is coming at us rather than from us.

Because we believe we are inside a body, our awareness stuck inside a skull, the world seems to be outside us. There is nothing outside. There is no outside. The world we see is not only in our mind; all the various objects we see are basically pieces of our mind. We each make our own version of a world; when the versions are combined, we think it is all one world. The thoughts we think we are thinking appear as images that we call "the world".

"There is a light in you the world cannot perceive. And with its eyes you will not see this light, for you are blinded by the world. Yet you have eyes to see it. It is there for you to look upon. It was not placed in you to be kept hidden from your sight...To feel the Love of God within you is to see the world anew, shining in innocence, alive with hope, and blessed with perfect charity and love." --A Course In Miracles.

I choose sight.

The Eastern Star

The Song plays on in this forever-now; it calls. I only dream I can't hear it, for there is no chance of my not hearing what is forever mine. The little life I think I have, this is but a desperate refusal to let go a tiny moment of fear that was healed and gone in my (our) creation. Herein lies the clue of the ages, not because You tease us with some grand mystery, as if You were a cosmic fooler. No, it is a clue because we who dream of separation catch glimpses of our Reality: You. Our Home.

Our tiny moment of fear made us feel suddenly alone, and this made us feel as if we had betrayed You. But You, being perfect Love and only this, know that we, Your Son, remain forever as created. But our sense that we threw our Home away was so unbearable that we fell into a deep sleep and dreamed we were many. This in order to displace this terrible guilt onto others like us, but different. We needed something to perceive with, so we made bodies, thus a world in which to house the bodies.

But Dearest, You simply sing to us, knowing we never could leave Home, only dreamt it so. We think we cannot understand this, but we are simply hiding. Yet truthfully, we awoke in the same instant that we slept, as it is not Your Will that Your Son be anything but Your Son. Thus, the hiding--and the world--is over. The Eastern Star hangs in a night sky we made because we believed in darkness; but the Star gently reminds that nothing unreal exists, no one real has been harmed.

There is no harm, no dark sky; none but a tiny forgetting that we are with You; and since it is not Your Will that Your Son be anything but Your Son--forever one with You--neither harm nor dark skies can exist: They are unreal. As are the stories we told ourselves, thus our children, of an angry god, a god who holds "love" in one hand, and dangerous rage in the other; whose all-too-human failings would have destroyed him eons before he had even a thought of making a little planet, and peopling it with tiny creatures with huge desires they know nothing of, then punish them when they err.

Dearest, my Creator--Father/Mother/Great Spirit--I yearn for You, though You are right where I (think I) am; my (our) nightmares mean nothing. They cannot prevail against the peace You Will for us. What is called the Holy Spirit, our link to the memory of Who we really are; is this the Star we see? Are we one with that Light that never goes out (because "going out" has no meaning)? The Whole of us, called The Christ, remembers You. "He" is the Self we thought we lost, but no, not ever, because You are perfect Love. Thus, we are not stepchildren.

I want to remember You. I find I think of You more and more as I go about these little days with which the world I see is cloaked. Everything I see, I make; everything I see is not only in my mind, it is my mind. And You are right "here". You are in everything I see; this means what I see is a result of perception, thus has no effects; because since You are in everything I see, everything I see must be but shadows on the walls of my mind. Is this not so, Father?

Yes, the Song calls. The Star shines, its sparkle a calm and gentle reminder that God's sleeping Son awoke long ago in his terms of time; awoke and saw his (our) Creator holding us in His perfect Love. The light we see is the light we are. The gifts we receive are those we had given. Creation, after all, is sharing. Sing we all the Song, recall our Home we never could leave; this is ours, this perfect mind we dreamed had split into untold pieces. We awoke, nothing was lost; we shared a gentle laugh. Thank You, Dearest. Amen.

I Believe In The Light

This morning, before dawn, I woke and saw through barely open eyes, a golden light. The light seemed to be coming through branches of a tree. My eyes opened as if by their own volition, and I realized I was looking at the floor lamp at the end of the couch. The lamp was off.

I believe such a light exists. I believe it is here, right where we (think we) are. I think the light is not a figment of imagination, nor synapses firing; I believe in the light.

We who dream we are no more than skin stretched over a collection of bones; we whose joy demands its opposite; we who believe in darkness...we are the offspring of this light!

And such peace! No opposite to this. Attendant to the light, but one with it. Yes, and it seems so still, yet a certain passion rides along with it; a passion for creativity, as this is its nature. To be creative; to dance the eternal dance.

I said the light seemed to come through trees, but it was not sunlight; and maybe the branches were symbols for our veiled vision. I recently practiced seeing this light "in" all the people, buildings, cars...What I saw cannot be put into words.

There is a Song. Somehow, it is not so that we cannot hear its melody. We simply shut off our hearing when we made these ears. The body's ears were made to hear a world that is not there, as the body's eyes were made to see that illusory world. We all know the Song.

The light faded as I opened the body's eyes, and saw the dark lamp shade. I was not disappointed, as I know by now that the light cannot go away. It is here, it is eternal, it is real. It was I who returned to the physical, as we always do, because we are convinced it is our home, when Home awaits in perfect patience.

Only This (first version. Unfinished.)

Are we adrift? Is there no shore? Is it true that we are the creation of infinite anger? Do ancient words have power over us, or is it we who decide how to interpret? How many ways to see the same teaching?

There is “something” here. It is felt so deeply that most of us are unaware of its life within us. But it is not so that we cannot see, and this something is more than within us.
This is more than a sense, more than some indistinct presence, that cannot really do anything for us but watch as we struggle along our frightened way, whistling in the dark. The ancient words say that it is closer than skin. But then they say other things that make us more afraid. This contradiction tears at us with fingers of old shame, their nails dirty with the guilt of ages past.

We keep reading, trying to understand. But which is it? Are we damned, or blessed? If we cannot untangle this burden, then let us release it, and begin again.

Come. Rest here. For not only is there a shore, it is our home, and we never did leave it…and we never could. We can pretend we left it, and we do. We act as if we are separated from this something, which created us. Yes, we are created. We act as if we are also separated from ourselves, and from one another. But in truth, there is no “other”. And yet, there are many “others”, with different beliefs and from different religions, or no religion. But even those with no religion, who think they just popped out of nowhere, from nothing, into nothing; they sense as well this something…this energy, this presence, this everywhere existent, that we call “God.”

Once we say that word, what is left? Do we cower, cover our nakedness, or do we see at last the reality behind the old legends of our Creator? No, be brave. So afraid have we been, that we see controversy in not using the uppercase letter, and in avoiding the many pronouns to describe “Him”. Or “She”. Or “It”. There is no need to fear. If you want to use capital letters, then use them. Let us ask the reader to use whatever pronoun is comfortable, and let us continue.
God does not ask, “What have you done?” He knows His creation only as He created it. Does He think we are wicked? How could He think so, and Himself remain good? If His perfect creation, His Son, does horrible things to his brother, how does God remain sane? How is there peace if even one soul burns? It is hard to see how on one hand, God has only one Son, but on the other hand, His Son has a brother. Hard, but not impossible.

The Teaching of the Ages

The teaching of the ages will transform the individual. Great religions will fall, and of course many will see this fall as the end of the world, and from the outside looking in, it will seem so. All great transformation, whether on a personal scale, or global, causes upheaval.

The individual will see (all this is very gradual, though it may not feel gradual) at first a connectedness to and with all things. There will grow a great awareness of mind; science will at last have to accept that mind forms what we call matter.

The individual will go beyond the idea of "oneness" as it is presently taught; oneness will be understood as not simply everyone being connected yet separate, but as one whole Self. The first thought that comes is: "We will lose ourselves! Our individuality. I don't want to be absorbed into some impersonal mass of one mind..." Consider that nothing is lost. It is not necessary to understand everything. How does the eternally found become lost?

As the individual changes, there will be a deeper sense of love for the other. Not the old warm and fuzzy demonstrative love, in which we tended to hide ourselves, but love as love is. I believe it will begin (or has begun) in concert with a "new" awareness that we are non-physical beings, and that we invented the physical, we made it up, as a child makes up an imaginary world. Our clinging to physicality while we profess our deep spirituality...this will fade away as we come to recognize that there are no opposites...no divisions to Self.

We made up the physical world to hide in. We became afraid for an instant, and these images came into our perfect Mind. They lasted but an instant and were gone. What we now think we experience is but the memory, or more clearly, our repeating, replaying, of that memory. The world was over long ago, in our terms of linear time. We remain as created.

Now we are talking about changing, transforming, but we are not really transforming at all. It is but our perception. We already are everything. All that is "changing" is our awareness, and our choice. There are two choices, yet in truth, there is only one choice, as the other is false, born of fear, a tiny crazy instant wherein we thought we lost our Creator, angered our Creator. But our Creator is perfect Love. Thus, we are perfect Love.

Old long-entrenched ways of being and doing the world's business, are dying out. The old ways no longer work, if they ever really did. There will be violent opposition, as there always has been when great transformation occurs. For those that cling to the old ways will surely see that their world is coming to an end.

It will be proven by science that we have not only a physical body, but an ethereal body, or astral body. This idea will no longer be seen as esoteric, but as scientific fact. When the world begins to see what freedom it has, the individual witnessing and practicing the power of this freedom, there will be no more nations, nothing to kill for. Nothing to die for (death will be seen as false, too).

We will see that the old idea of "we cannot know 'good' without knowing 'bad'", is also false. But the false will drop away on its own. We need not do anything to it. When I choose to see clearly, the scales drop off. When I choose to stop seeing clearly, the scales come back. But the scales remain illusion. My (our) sight however, is very real, and eternal.

There is one teaching, and all teachings teach it.