18 October 2003

The Harvest

I put things in order from A to Z, small to large, dust off the debris, rearrange, restack and organize – trying to impress some order on the chaos. When am I going to learn that trying to organize dust particles is futile? And here we are dust to dust. All it takes is a strong wind and we’re history.

I don’t have much time here. I don’t have much time to figure it all out. I call it eternity – but it’s not. It’s my forever, but it’s conscripted solely in my flesh. I’ve been granted this gift and I’ve abused it – or maybe I’ve just lived it. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. If I’ve used it well, sometimes I think I should arrive at this moment with more, but I never really deliberate on what I mean by that. More what?

Come down here onto the earth and die by the weight of it. It’s so much more than sitting up there in the clouds pondering the heavens. There will be time for that later when we’re dead. We will come to know the spirit world soon enough, when our forms are better suited for that understanding. We weren’t given the gift of flesh in order to understand that world. We were sent here to understand this one rightly. Is speaks through each of us and this is what Is tells me.

Walk on the ground and carry the weight of creation rightly. The burden increases with every act, every deed, and when it comes to be too much we’re to do what Atlas does – to shrug. This is the burden of our harvest. This is the burden of the abundance of life. It’s called joy.

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