When did serving get a poor reputation? When did it become touted that it is better to be the one served rather than the one who serves?
Is the one who dines at a fine restaurant more honored than the waiter who serves the food? The world would say so. I do not. Serving and being served are the two ends of one seesaw. Both are primary. Each serves the other.
It is a fine thing to be a diner who makes it possible for another to serve. And it's a fine thing to be a waiter who serves food to the diner. This is a noble interchange.
It is a fine thing to be someone who cleans, someone who sews, someone who rakes the leaves, shovels the snow. Start thinking of the honor it is to serve. It is not a cursory thing to serve, nor is it cursory to be served. You have every right to serve and to be served.
You know by now that the one who serves another is ultimately serving himself, yes, and also serving Me. You are My hands. Through you, I give.
And through the person served, I am served. Inasmuch as I am the One ultimately served, then you are served as well. Server or served, you stand in for Me.
Serving and being served are of one motion. How intertwined are Heaven and Earth, you and I, I and you, whomever I am speaking to.
He who is served also serves. Who is a greater Server than I?
And, on Earth, does not the king serve the most? When service is given and received with a good heart, service is equal.
The kindergarten child who paints from his heart is not less an artist than a famous artist. They are equal givers. From my vantage, which is much like the vantage of the mother to her child, the child's painting is just as dear as one the world calls valuable.
The teacher serves the student. The student serves the teacher.
The pen that writes serves the paper it writes on. The ink serves the pen and the paper and the writer serve the reader. The writer serves the reader, and the reader serves the writer.
In the world of love, what is separate, My beloveds? In the world of love, all is One, one single motion of Oneness, the way a saw saws a board.
Your hand serves you, and you serve your hand, and your hand serves Me as I serve you.
In the world, no one owns anything, and everyone owns all.
No one partitions the sky and says: "This is mine. It's not yours."
No one says, "The air is mine and not yours." .
No one says, "You can step on this square of sidewalk, and not on that one."
No one says, "If you pass by my lilac bush, you are not allowed to breathe in its sweetness."
No one quibbles with the idea that the sky and air and sidewalks belong to all. No one is selfish about these matters. If they wanted to own the sky and air and sidewalks, there isn't a way for them to own them. Sky and air and sidewalks are not ownable. May it always be so.
And yet food is divided. Space is divided. Other people's love is even separated and owned. "You can love me but not that one."
There is no beginning to the service of love, and there is no ending to the service of love. Love cannot be clutched in the hand. Love is still free and not to be held onto. Love is given in service to the Universe.
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