Nothing has been cut or taken away. Just like a new born baby, isn’t it?
Simple. Pure. Humble. It holds within it Infinite possibilities of forms and shapes.
Life happens. ‘This lower chunk isn’t you’ is heard as a corner of the whole block falls to the floor and shatters. People, teachers, religions, and many other factors impose their so-called truths on us and our disintegration continues. Dis-integration. We all continue to operate with vital chunks of our own well-being now separate from ourselves.
Numerous gouges, cuts, scrapes and whittlings are encountered.
Scars of all sizes depict the trials of growing up. Some of the scars are deep, going completely through the block. It’s structure is weakened. The infliction, and infection, may become part of our lives.
We knew our un-carved block. It is from where we came. We frolicked there, played there, laughed there and experienced life when we were whole. Once.
Those pieces that have fallen away are still accessible. With a tad of quietness we can sense what we have been missing. With a pinch of solitude we can feel what is needed to replace what we have lost. And with a moment of clarity all can be found.
And with some magic glue that mysteriously appears just when we need it most, the entire packaged can again – Humpty-Dumpty style – regain its Majesty and solidarity.
The healing process . . . those idyllic steps into the unknown, can be the most rewarding excursion ever.
The Infinite 