Praying in the consciousness of the Universe

 

And in the way of the mood, the anima, the soul… one discovers the ascendance of the Spirit; the expression of the Creator, of the Mysterious. 

And the being that feels created… expresses in that proportion. And it does not become conceited, rather a humble server, with the joy that supposes the refuge of the Mystery, of divine infinite eternal proportions!...

This plan, that may well be –is- “the plan”-, throughout the capable experiences of human intelligence, has been replaced little by little by the “reasonable” effect of logic, the cause, the effect.

It also happens that, the humanity excludes itself -up to what point, right?- it excludes itself from the Universe, it excludes itself from the Creation, and takes refuge in the stronghold of its domains, each with their own domain, that could be shared, or not, with other domains.

The being becomes a dominator. It kidnaps itself, faced with the results of its powerful reason; that although in that state of consciousness it is more likely that it is so, outside of that kidnapping they have no value.

And so like this, the kidnapped, establishes a bond of affection, attraction, admiration with the kidnapper… given that it has excluded all the elements of the Universe, and it has stayed in the hijacked vessel.

There, there it establishes its affective bonds -meagre-, emotional, -anaemic- intellectual, -powerful!-, of incapable transformation.

Ay!...

The kidnapped kidnapper… feels assured! And at best, at best exercises in a debauchery of aggression, insults, resentment, hatred… 

And affirms: 

-"I am free to feel and to do what I want!

-As long as you remain kidnapped… or you're a kidnapper; the truth is that there seems to be a lot of difference, but… there is none.

And each one establishes a dependency with the other… like the law with the order; the order with the law; like the father with the children; the children, with the parents; the school with the student; the university with the university student; the mayor, with the people; the State, with the citizen…

Kidnappers and the kidnapped of each other, they make chains of knots, ties. And so many!, which makes it difficult to untie, unravel, because of the fear to lose! -to lose?- the ties, becomes immediately present when someone wants to disassociate, to untie.

The Prayerful Sense warns us of this perspective where the species exercises nowadays; and, like a shadow, like a cloud without water, our longings, our fantasies dry up.

The Meaning of Prayer, with its advice, puts us in the necessary mood to realize that being kidnapped being kidnappers! we cannot be viable… abducted by heavy reasons, by infallible science that contours -like a large serpent-, our true capacities: those that are characteristic of the artist; those of… the intoxicating beauty! And, without them, we are left constrained by this enveloping serpent… that seems to want to embrace us!, but that squeezes... with its prejudices, with its judgments, with its sentences!

Ay!...

There is too much dross spread out. In other times there was mud that impeded walking. Now it is the dross of "security", the crackling "reasons", that hold us like metal shavings that, like shackles, prevent us from walking.

And like this is born the attitude of producing and producing, consuming and consuming, recycling and recycling… and not moving from the space, called "cultural", that imposes its criteria and impedes the investigation.

And it tightens and squeezes, that which they call "society"! to impose its order of… a so called “ancestral fear", which they say that existed and exists, toward the Divine Authority.

Dirty… societies of an ailing message. Messages of care, with fears; of arrogance… with petulant positions.

And it could seem that it is an acute moment of… No, no. It is a chronicle of chronicity. It is the daily chronicle that the newspaper gives. It is the chronicle of centuries… that has been forged to be effective.

Yes. It is the chronicle of chronic processes that do not want to come out of their enclosure of kidnapping.

And although there is advice, although warnings even occur, although evidence shows… in very different proportion, dimension and references, it seems that it doesn’t matter. Not only does it "seem", is that it does not… manage to crack the shell of the kidnapping.

"Praying in the Consciousness of the Universe"; in the verse that is seen, in the verse that sees us… as a product, as a process, as an event of Love that falls in love with everything created… and exercises in its materiality with elegance, the subtlety, the detail, the humour… the scent of sandalwood that does not cease, with its smoky silhouette… that dissolves in its surroundings.

Like this is configured, a materiality of the being, transfigured… of which the being itself is surprised, surprises its environment, and impresses in its creativity.

 

Ay!... Ay!, generations and generations close the door!... and hide the key. And they tell us that this is what there is!

And in this "what there is", the only -the only!- proposal… is to look through the keyhole, and guess what it is that in miniature you see. Be thankful, even, that they have hidden the key, because if they had left it in the lock… nothing would be seen.

Yes!, yes! There is something on the other side of the oppressor fence! Yes! The watchful eye advices us that, although the vision is static, there is another dimension.

"Let us make haste! Let us hasten to make a key!

"Now"... to "see" and we can say that we see! 

Ahhh! They seem like safe locks. "They seem like". They seem like locks of armour that do not allow openings. "Seems like".

Ask… Ask your longings! Ask your dreams… 

Hey, you, the hostage! Ask!... 

Ask… your hands!... 

Sniff around in your environment... and discover instruments and resources... 

Fabricate your key.

Yes, yes, of course! There is fear to open the door, and to stay on the landing because of the fear of what there will be, what will be after... 

Fresh air... Unlimited sounds... Never-ending complex verses, and they take you. Let's Go! Hurry to make your key! you see! You see. To know that you have to do it…  already wakes up your imagination. 

Hurry!... the lock is becoming oxidized, it’s getting difficult!

Yes! Why not? Try it!: a spoon, a fork, paper, cardboard… 

Try!… 

And in each test, your mind becomes imagination. And in each test you become sophistication. And in each test, something sounds. 

The lock begins to be… your ally!  It admits to move without its owner: the kidnapper.

Let's Go! Don’t decline! You're hardly just trying to, and for centuries you have been waiting to see what your kidnapper does.

And what if it is you that has kidnapped yourself... and you forgot your key because of hiding it so much?

But there is no time to look for it; it is time to create it.

 Let it become a “Master key”, because not only does it have to open that door, but many others await behind that one.

Mould, modulate, and imagine… the hidden details of the lock, its internal incomings and outgoings that, like a perfect lover, implore its voyage, its… communion! 

You see what awaits you. You see what you need... 

There is no -no, no, no- there is no motive for giving up. Even less, for discouragement! You have all the time you want! But hurry! 

-Mould yourself…

"That’s it!: a mould! Of course! It was easy!

-Yes, a mould! Look for a mould, and repeat…

"A mould! A model? 

-Something soft that is impregnated with the intimacy of the lock, and with that has a reference… 

"A reference!…? 

-A mould, a model. 

-That’s it! I need a model, a mould. And that not only will serve me to open, to make the " the key", but rather that it is a "master". 

-Yes: a mould, a model, a reference...

On the basis of the softness; continuing with the adaptation; making myself complaisant faced with the error!; giving me some continuing opportunities… and some constants of commitment.

Songs of hope and... certainties of who-knows-what. It does not matter. 

A mould! A mould that already sounds, which already sounds; that sounds like an equivalent.

And with the mould arises the key... 

Now, dare to try!... Without fear! Slowly... 

Listen to how the gears of what was safe, begin to move. See how the latch moves!... until it reaches the stop. Open! the door is open!... 

Remove!, gently remove the key. It is the master. It is your mould, your model, your reference!

No, no, no, no! Don't collect anything! Fully open the doors… Come out! Come out, and leave it ajar... Leave the door ajar don’t close it.

Ah!, yes: the temptation to run… No! Step by step. Up the stairs, down the stairs... 

The portal seems imposing, unapproachable. Use your master key, and you'll see that it opens.

You're out! There, over there, there!!... Start to realize who you are!... 

No!" You are not the one who was judgmental, thorough, anxious… and at the mercy of the kidnapping. No... That was not you. 

You're the one who now smells, feel the textures… 

Feels!... the sounds, the flavours. Smells the universe of life!...

It was not, life, that closed house, that closed room in where you debated with obsessions, fears, prejudices, judgments!... No! 

See? Now You see… Life Is Universe.

Don't try to go anywhere. They will take you. In the life of the Universe, to want to dominate it is an absurdity. They take you with so much knack!… that it will always be a surprise. 

That they will take you with so much affection, that you will always have kindness... 

Life of Universe, assured adventure!… 

Liberated events... that become irreversible! 

Be careful, don't let that any vanity distracts you… 

Don’t adopt any possession…

Don't fall into any importance!... 

Ready!... willing... available…

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