You’re not tired of My telling you how to live in the world, are you? You don’t want Me to keep quiet, do you? You do want to remember once and for all what I say.

You may remember much of what I say, yet, has it sunk in? Probably not.

You are aware and unaware at the same time. You know everything, and you know nothing. I might say that it is in your favor to not know anything, well, certainly not everything you think you know.

Would that the word but had not been created, but that is like saying: “Would that you had not had a thought.” But your mind is filled with thought, and there must be a reason for it.

One reason is so that you will change your thoughts, much like a spring cleaning, that you would leave thoughts of the past behind, for the past is long gone, even as I tell you the past never was. Much ado about nothing, and nothing is everything to you.

The dearest things that exist - all of existence - are only thoughts, something you thought, something you believed one way, and may then have turned out to be a flash in the pan.

Is your life then only pop corn popping on the fire? Is that then what your life is, like gun shots going off, and nothing left to tell but your thoughts?

There is no where for life to have happened, no what, no how, no when. All, all of life seems to be thoughts, thoughts thought about. Well, you have to think something, don’t you? And so you think about and think about and record all of it, all the details as if a broken record playing.

What if you could go beyond thought? What if you could pass over the horizon of your thoughts and enter a world where Being countermands thought big time?

A world full of Silence, not science, Silence. A land full with Silence so loud, so overwhelming, that there is nothing to say and nothing to hear but this luminous Silence, full Silence. Silence filled to the brim, Silence that lets nothing else be heard, Silence that leaves nothing to be said.

I suppose We could say that you hear nothing but the Silence, and Silence is good, and you are in the midst of this loud Silence that allows you no thought, no thought even of Silence, no thought at all, no sound at all even though the Silence is deafening, so to speak.

There is no room for anything but the Silence to enrich the very air you breathe, not that you think of breathing or anything at all. You sink into the Silence. You are sunk into the Silence, aware of nothing but the enriched Silence that some could call Love. Silence, in the Silence, is not even named. What Name can be great enough? Well, perhaps My Name.

What if the Silence is God blooming? What if the Silence is Godness? Not Godliness because that is rather relative, but Godness, Essence of God, Reflection of God, Elevation of God, Greatness of God, Closeness to God, so close to God that nothing else exists but this Being That Is God, this Beingness, this Isness, Creation beyond Creation, Creation at Its Incept, Creation before It Became Creation, Creation in the Air, as it were, the very Foundation of Being. Is All I?

Why, yes, it is, beloveds. All That Is Is I, and All That Is Is Also you except there is no you, only I.

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