Returning to sleep I was able to dream of greater understanding. Today I wish to return to the sleep of consciousness. This waking world appears to be the place of suffering of unconsciousness of consciousness arising. I have the freedom to do this, but this is not a gift of love. It would be irresponsible, and I would have to continue to go to the space that is conscious of suffering caused and suffering endured.
I wait for a place where suffering has left my mind. My body is a gift of love today. I am comfortable and at peace even in the pain and discomfort of a body that has endured abuse. A friend who witnesses my release from suffering has reached out to ask for assistance in being released for hers. I have only my listening heart to give. Withholding is a gift of love today. I share only the release and the suffering of the past as I witness my own endurance. Experience is a gift of love today. To know that should I share the presence of suffering with a friend who has suffering which is much greater than mine I would not give her a gift of endurance.
Love endures. It gifts me with the hope that their will be moments of peace and light that flow between the obstacles. Like rocks in a river, I see the energetic patterns of my life becoming sand and also becoming the bed of the river. I wish to paint. The words do not describe the image that appears. I am aware my ability to paint is also inadequate as my ability to paint with words.
Should I release and allow the truth through? This is a gift of love that does not include me. It heals me yet I feel so separate from the love that flows. The universal love that creates the pattern of my life plans for a weaving of a tapestry that feels already worn. As if worn threads are being used to weave the pattern. What is the gift of love? Am I but recycled threads being woven into a tapestry? My gift to love is that I allow the pattern to be revealed. Choosing to walk the lines of the weave and to see the spaces that appear to let me know I have reached the limits of the loom and must return to the weft. A ball of thread a sphere of yarn and all I see is the pattern that is not revealed.
The past the memory is a gift of love. I can recall the parts of the past with the compassion of the present and release them with gratitude for the safety found in not knowing. Not knowing the pain being endured by another because of my inability to endure the suffering that was being inflicted upon me in my unconsciousness. Is consciousness a gift of love? Forgiveness perhaps but without responsibility forgiveness will create the pattern of suffering in repetition. The worn threads remain. They endure wrapped in a silken cocoon waiting for another to reveal the weaver.
The gift of love today is in the letting go. There is no need for me to participate in the pattern. I can sleep and release the weaver to go. I would be then only the broken thread in the life of another once again. Each time I believe this to be so another reveals the necessity of my thread to the pattern of life. That is a gift of life, though in my belief perhaps love is revealed only after the threads have become part of the pattern. Acceptance is the greatest gift of love today. I am as I am and love is as it is. Unchanging never ending and always in motion.
