Seekers Seek The Sought

Some people study the world. They turn rocks over, and dig.  They dive down, and swim deep beneath the surface.  They enter the dark spaces within, and expose what's kept there.   I think they do those things to feel alive.

They explore what they see around them, and ask the spaces that contain them to instruct the pursuit of knowing who they are, and who they'll become.  They don't care what their name is, or profession.    

Just who they ARE.   

I wonder if people like they are will do that forever, and if they'll find the truth they seek.  I'd like to ask one of them how you recognize truth when you hear, or see some.  I'd like to know if it's more difficult to search for truth than it is to recognize it.  I'd ask if they'd help me find my own so I'd know if it matters in the end.

Is Life harder for those who are broken?  Is it sweeter to the ones who are privileged?  How much effort does it take to be happy, and how do you know if you are, if you've never been?  Maybe it doesn't matter because both are the center of Everything, already. 

That's what I'd ask a seeker if I saw one. 

Pretty Package Pal

The fact is, some people know far too much to know anything at all.  I claim to know the things that matter most to avoid admitting how little actually does.  I use reverse psychology to keep from living in what I own. I don't really care how peanut butter's made.  I just want to eat it.   

I'm lost again.  Thank God.   

Focus my attention on this moment. Forgive those who hold me back, to progress.  I'm the problem and the solution. 

That's what a friend said, just moments before I knew she was one.

There are no individual people here. Just 7 billion masks of God. 

The objective behind each interaction is to see God within those you encounter, before the encounter ends.

Titles, and fortunes, and positions, and status are not the Happy Meal.  

The Happy Meal is.

Here Again?

There were parts of myself I discarded before I knew I'd need them.  I didn't see their value.  I didn't know some of who we are is designed for use early, and some of who we are follows a prolonged, programmed emergence.  

The only way to know that is to see it happen, and I didn't.  I missed both my mother's, and my father's.  They missed them, most of all.  I'd trade every day of my life that remains to buy them a single day of their own.  I'd like them to know I understand some things now, like why I always arrive here.  

The journey we take in life begins when we abandon our own, for another's.  The journey we take isn't as far as we thought.  It's the same one that takes us home.  It's hard to admit the gratitude I owe to what's difficult.

Journey is Story

There was an incident awhile back where a man 

was pulled over by police as he entered a hospital

parking lot.  As the officer started the routine they're taught to do, the "Do you know why I pulled you over?" one, the man who had been pulled over interrupted with his story.  

He said his mother was in the hospital, and he was called because she was dying.  He was told she only had moments to live.  He told the officer he would accept responsibility for whatever infraction he'd made, and asked to see her. 

The officer said no, and as 

the man's emotions 

heightened, so

did the routine police are trained to perform.  "I need you to stay on the curb, sir, and place your hands behind your head".  The distraught man continued his requests to see his dying mother, and was handcuffed.  When his shouts became desperate he was pressed, face down, on the concrete. 

A nurse caught wind of what was happening, and came out. She told the officer the man's mother was entering her final moments, and pleaded he be let go, to see her.  The man was charged with resisting arrest, and taken away for booking.  

His mother died.  He didn't get to say goodbye.  

Congratulations Officer, you're a fine cop, and your arrest was textbook.  But you didn't see the God that was hidden because you were parading your own.

I bet if you asked that cop why he became one, he'd say he wanted 'to help people'.  He might even say it was God's plan.

God's plan unfurled in the moment of that arrest, and the opportunity to promote someone else's journey, with his own, slipped away.

God's plan is the same for everyone.

When the moment arrives in your life, or mine, what will we see?  The God we boast in our own breast, or the one we find hiding in the others?

The arrested man publicly forgave the officer who arrested him.  He enabled that journey, before his.