Your heart beats. Your heart beats the beat of the Universe. There is a rhythm to life. You are the pulse of the Universe. You are in tune with the Universe. You are the heartbeat of the Universe, and you are the Song of the Universe. You are the drumbeat of the Universe, and you are the Music of the Soul.
And you are the Meaning. You are the Subject in Truth, and you are the Object as you perceive. You are the Writer of Lyrics, the Composer, and the Singer. You are also the Listener and the Echoer. You are in Conjunction with Love. Therefore, you are in Conjunction with Me.
You are the Conjunction of the Stars. You are at no distance. Nothing is at a distance from you. You are the Tom-Tom of Love.
Even when you are at rest, your heart beats. When your heart stops beating, and your breath stops breathing, you remain Soul, and you are Greatness. Alive or dead, on one so-called side of Life or another, you ARE and I AM. There are no two ways about it.
We are One. Nothing has happened. A big to-do is made when you are born, and a big to-do is made when you cross the bridge from one side to the other, back and forth, yet nothing has happened.
There is no distance, and separation is not. You are Being.
This is only Life, this fantasy you get blurred in. Hail to you for gracing Earth, and hail to you for gracing Heaven. Hail to the Grace of God Who assembles you here. You are a hail-fellow-well-met if you but knew.
Your jurisdiction is the world and beyond. You hesitate to ascribe to this. For one excuse or another, you don't. You see a box, and you place yourself in it and dare not leave its borders. You -- who possess imagination -- will not imagine this. You take a back seat. You withdraw your elegance.
Your life becomes a stew made of leftovers and disparate parts. You function. You are a carrier-pigeon when, in Truth, you are destined to be a Pioneer. You are a Springboard of Life and admit it not. You admit it not to yourself or anyone for fear of being found out. What would you do then? You couldn't be a laggard any longer. You would have to take responsibility. No longer would you be able to wear your disguise. You would be unmasked. You will unmask yourself, yet the world was always complicit in your tomfoolery.
Ahoy, you are on the High Seas while you think you are in a child's wading pool. Somehow, you are on the verge of discovering yourself, not even inches away. Nevertheless, you fear reaching shore. You like the shore being far away. You became used to it. You have been living by yourself on a desert island, separate from other Beings who are also yourself. You abandoned yourself on this island of yourself, and thought this was safety. You ran away from yourself. You would not look at yourself for fear of an inner uprising from which you could never return. You thought claiming forthright Passion for Life was akin to abandonment of yourself. You raced away, rowing a leaky boat, preferring absence of flying.
You didn't know your worth. You thought you were on an escapade. You wandered away from your Self. This was customary. You were the fly in the ointment. You played Dodgem with life. You hopped into a car and ran away from meeting yourself. You were like clothes hung in the closet, just hanging there, hanging around, hung up in the Closet of Your Life.
I am knocking at the door of the closet you hide in, you, there, hiding from the Glory of Your Self.
Come, I am waiting for you. Come out. Come out. Come out to Me. Leave Your Island of Forgetfulness. Leave your façade behind. You have been found out. Join Me. Here is a New Dance Floor for you and New Heights to ascend. Now you take off into the Wild Blue Yonder. Now you forsake the past. Now you forsake illusion. And now you stop tap-dancing on your heart. Get over here. Begin.
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