Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord. Our heart is restless until it finds rest in thee.
Lately this set of words plays whenever I entertain that there’s something more to the world today.
Children of the Sun, why do you do bother scrounging together anything less?
It plays when interacting with others. Observing too. And it plays when I find myself whispering, “this must be it!”
Aren’t all desires known lesser copies of the original desire: unification?
Why force yourself into camaraderie and other forms of bondage if it’ll never compare to the completeness of the Source? Why search around the world when the Source has the complete set of whatever you feel is missing? People may portray monk life as a form of “resignation” or a form of “settling” – isn’t it the very opposite?
Don’t you see the folly?
There is little in the “default” world that can even size up as a droplet to the boundless reality, hiding behind the blinds of “default” perception. But there’s nothing preventing from taking on new perception I suppose.
Whatever love you ascribe between others is often but a bandaid or a mocking imitation to the bubblegum nebula shrinkwrap this reality is hovering in. Suspended by forces unimaginable.
You show me a pretty play, I think of the cosmic one the higher ones watch (where it zooms in to you pointing to the play).
And you may insist on waddling through the default ‘milestones’ as though there’s the hidden piece in them. Hard to find where.
Whatever embrace one may find in another will not compare to merging with the Divine essence.
But aren’t we thankful to wonder such things! A lovely opportunity this all is. So let’s balance between ‘resignation’ and a raised eyebrow.
For here’s an important, important note and where Augustine may veer a little different: As a subset of the Source, there are fragments of heaven on earth, no? The core Christian conception is one only unifies after death; why not today?
That’s all the difference!