There is a Time for Everything

If you always ride you can forget how to walk.

If you always read you can forget how to think.

A minor-league existence yields only repetition of overused thoughts and a few recurring negatives.

There is an area of our cognizance reserved for thinking, but for some reason it remains a ‘No Trespassing’ zone for many.

Children learn how to negotiate a world that they don’t understand by frolicking n a playground designed for them. A grown-up version of that playground, designed just for you, awaits your arrival.

An exclusive, perfect venue, able to understand your every idiosyncrasy and enabled to make sense out of every problem you may ever encounter – and to open up vistas never dreamed of before.

As a supreme, humble servant, it simply waits for your attention. That moment when you stop the juggling, the striving, the searching and the negativism which comes if its favor is never summoned.

You’re fighting a war against this world. You figure that more money, more time, more friends or a better car will help. You hope that some earthly betterment will bring you victory. You had the biggest truck in the sandbox – and that didn’t help at all.

This new playground starts off as the highest sensation you have ever experienced and just keeps getting better. Are there answers there? Sure there are, and they are perfect. But so much more importantly is the idea that this unfound venue can be your ‘home’ of perfect contentment, just for you.

It begins as a retreat that is visited, of inexplicable splendor. Little glimpses are offered, each one more magnificent than the sum of pleasure from any drugs or alcohol.

Glimpses . . . powerful, unimaginable. Glimpses from a playground of Infinite surprises. So magnificent, they bring tears of joy.

It all starts from the freedom that is found . . . when that white flag is allowed to unfurl.

Published by Kumi

Liaison to the Infinite.

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