love yourself

Perfection is inherent within each of us, what Jesus implied when He said, The Kingdom of Heaven is within. . . .my understand is limited by my faltering expression of what I experience

Yet amongst ourselves we make Hell evident. Which I define merely as waste what is of value inherently. Each it seems are the engines of life chasing itself throughout time. Thinking now, humorously, of a puppy chasing its tail.

C. S. Lewis said, “It matters enormously if I alienate anyone from the truth.” . . . but then what is “truth”?

For me it is not conjecture or speculation; but only that which for this moment is before me/you/us to do. What I understand as/is experience; all will be well—with or without me afterward. To and for, love, will I always say yes. For now that is me, howabout yourself? What will we do with these precious immeasurable days? Make love possible or impossible. The measure of us not what we say but do. And for me, now, I endow you as King/Queen of yourself. You all are that important to me.

C. S. Lewis also implied, elsewhere, The King James Bible was the crown jewel of the English language. When I read William Shakespeare i sense they both woven together. Yet as I read the words of other languages, cultures, times, races, genders, etc. I feel we all woven equally together . . . what is war but fear expressed that what I see is “best” and “I” must prevail. The peace I know, now, is difficult to express. It is my truth and what has led me so far from whence I came to whether I go forever more. My way to peace is peace itself.

So if you must war, I think The Interlocutor doesn’t mind, go ahead and destroy our nest. The pretty blue marble, singular so far.

There seems a before and afterward to everything. Truth is something we must agree upon, a place that can neither be added to or changed.

Thesis, exposition, conclusion . . . discovered this date and time:

“To save the world requires faith and courage: faith in reason, and courage to proclaim what reason shows to be true.” - Bertrand Russell

As sheep, goat or cow, I, grazing the fields of quotes find nourishment beneath the crown of heaven indefinable above. Sensing the Shepard of All within each of us.

The language in which I write is not universal; but love, kindness and affection IS.

fearless

130518 MDT 02:56 Love Yourself

© 2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved

if

Stunned to a stillness, a quiet, surprised my stylus consciousness made broader by quotes:

“In Heaven, all the interesting people are missing.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

Initially, at first reading, bewildering, but now given what preceding I wrote about: my sense of heaven within. Makes a new sense. There is a clamor for our attention, I being one of many voices equally guilty. While I choose to ignore the noise of babble.

There remains a minor/minority of fear within that I, at times, give credence to: That I will harm instead of love by my attentions anyone much less those I fell led towards specifically.

Fraudulent should I suggest that I pray: “May the words of my mouth and heart express Your will for us, not my intentions solely.” I am not ‘dial-a-prayer’ or sermonizing. But expressing a process which in itself suggests that all is process not an end in it self.

Tickled pink with another of my biological father’s observations: “Most men speak merely to acknowledge/know they exist.” It follows that I may be equally guilty. For at another time, in other contexts, he stated towards me: “You have diarrhea of the mouth!” Uncertain, at this great remove; was it what I said or the questions I asked?

Knowledge and wisdom, both wonderful within themselves, never fed a hungry mouth; the experience of safety in the presence of a friend does. And so answered is my question, long standing, ‘why is it possible to see God more clearly amongst the poor—the meek.’ We, living not alone by bread or fish, but every flower of love present and real we seek. Made more precious since unlike all other forms of life we know we will die.

Seek what you need, not want wishfully, and it will be given.

In my case it has taken near forever alone in the pressure cooker, alchemical retort, of fear to find love and peace. Only made more so in giving it forward; towards all others their peace discovered within. The end of war is that instead of two only one remains alone. All the wealth in the world, material or spiritual, is worthless without the other as friend or foe. What I might destroy destroys me . . . the keeper kept works only in that I am kept by the beloved and we together are whatever will be will be wonderful

06:09

I am liberal by embrace

and conservative by what impels me to embrace

all affectionately

Conscious at the moment, she may be awake, weaving back and fourth between quotes, writing, and now checking my email. Aware that I am not my furnishings or material concerns. Sensing that love has no script and there is no mythology or legend—in fact—nothing I can discern by close scrutiny, but love itself. My conclusion for now, barring fear of consequence, that I write, or do not write anything similar to what has preceded this moment is irrelevant. Satisfied that what I sought—lifelong—is found; what follows will be what it is, itself.

07:44

I sought return to rest for a time, displacing Annie who remained—me curled around her, restless given farther thoughts. I arose again and making more coffee dropped something nominally precious to me: a glass container and then thought is this an omen? Indicative of what I must leave behind or choose to move at added expense?

And now I conclude; mindful conscious living is no game but nothing more than saying yes or no to whatever proposed.

Whatever valuable, not subject to anything, Truth being more precious than “God”. I am reminded of lunch with M yesterday, equivalent to all other prized hours with her. In which I expressed the suddenness of love unexpected, she concurred. Then to my; ‘otherwise I would remain simply waiting for the zippered black plastic bag’; she replied; “so are we all.”

In the two posts, today, broaching topics worthy of lengthy exposition, I sense myself too little or too much; then remembering, best, that I once thought only of Gideon as in bedside drawers ignored in No-Tell-Motels.

I am of no special mint, being a penny lost, and found, and lost again. Ignore me: for my words are merely annotations on a life becoming more sincerely process not goal.

“Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust – we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.” - Albert Einstein

Thank you for reading me, be well.

130518 MDT 05:08 if

© 2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved