This makes me think of Keats and his ideas of being receptive and nonjudgmental- “when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.”
Absolutely beautiful. I appreciate the mystery all around us and small miracles that occur every day. I watched a video of a hummingbird building her nest for two tiny eggs. What a great God, we have to give a tiny little bird, the ingenuity to create a safe and sturdy place For her to babies🙏🏼🙂
I love this so much! We are surrounded by beautiful things. The mundane become extraordinary with the right eye and curiosity. Thank you for the reminder.
I am the same way. Everything is so fascinating. If you just look a little closer. It’s sad that some people go through an entire lifetime and fail to notice. I flstalked some orb weavers year before last, and was devastated when the season came to an end, but was grateful I had the opportunity to witness them being all beautiful and creative and stuff.
It is only when i discard immediacy of self that i can begin to comprehend and observe the moment. Alas, that is a short but fabulous point in time. Then i show up
Contemplate the Mystery: Why is it that the more I know, the less I understand? Observation of the natural world is truly astonishing, but the unnatural world humanity has created defies my grasp.
It is my experience that mystery is essential to soul development, for if we know how everything will turn out, what is the point of living? If we do not get ruffled, disturbed, surprised, disappointed, pleased, infuriated by what life serves, that would be really boring.
In January 1994, I started attending a church service of sorts in a rented hall in a commercial building. Each Sunday morning, someone responsible for the meeting talked about this or that.
After a few weeks, as a meeting came to close, a man, whom I had not seen there before, came forward from the back of the meeting hall and faced the gathering and told us to all close our eyes and ask God what we can best do to serve God?
That was the first mention of God I had heard in that “church”.
I closed my eyes and silently asked God what I could do to best serve God? Into my inner vision came a white quill writing pen. Tears welled in my eyes. I opened my eyes and got up and left.
That night after dinner, sitting with my diary and. a ballpoint pen in my “sitting chair” n my wife’s and my bedroom, looking out the window an old, majestic black willow tree and a big moon behind its branches, I opened my diary and put my pen on the paper and one word at a time started appearing, as if I was taking dictation, and I started bawling, and that went on every night for weeks, and then it stopped, and i typed it all up into my computer and then made it into a little saddle stitched pamphlet, which I named “A Crazy Person’s Bible”, because any one who lived God would have to be crazy to live as God wanted them to live, turning the other cheek, praying for our enemies, taking no thought for the morrow, it is more blessed to receive, first take the beam out of our own eye, etc.
Then, I had a couple of hundred copies made at a Kinkos and I put them in a cardboard box and took them to the mall where I lied to hang out during day time, and at night, when street performers were there. I set the box on a bench and I left. Later I came back and retrieved the box and what pamphlets were left in it and went home.
I kept doing that, and I kept printing more copies, and I kept doing that, and then a sequel came, and did it all again, and another sequel came, and I did it all again, and then it played out. And, then I wrote two novels at the same time, and finished writing them both on the same day.
Then, my life there imploded and I moved away and all those writings remained there and cannot be reproduced.
By then, I was beginning to use the internet, and in time I wrote maybe 50 thousand pages on blogs I paid someone to create for me, which developed a pretty good following.
Then, I got tangled in something I could have avoided, but if I had, I would not have learned a lot of things I didn’t know, which were very important. t/he cost was the two blogs were taken down by the web host host and were lost, unless I knew how to use cache to retrieve them, which I did not.The email account where I had sent out blasts of the blog posts to quite a few people got shut down, because I forgot the password and hotmail became outlook, and all of those writings were lost.
I started a new blog, and kept posting their daily for several years. Then, i started writing non-fiction books and novels again, and I put them on blogs until they were done, and then I put the entire book on the home page. A friend converted them so they could be read at the free internet library, archive.com, where they were, and are, read by people all over the world. My friend digitized my first novel and a book had written where the meltdown occurred, and he put them in the free internet library.
Because of him, the internet,and the free library, I will live on Earth for so long as that library exists, which might or might not be a good thing, depending on who is asked.
Here is the mystery poem written by the white quill pin and ended up in A Crazy Person’s Bible.
“Then, I got tangled in something I could have avoided, but if I had, I would not have learned a lot of things I didn’t know, which were very important.“
Too true. If I had avoided all the things I should have avoided I’d be a lot dumber than I am right now.
This makes me think of Keats and his ideas of being receptive and nonjudgmental- “when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.”
I love all this
Keats ✨
I am the content to live the history
@Jason59780800, @LabradorEskimo
Oh! My coffee tastes so much more satisfying….
while smiling as I read this morning.
Thank you
El maestro. No one comes close.
Absolutely beautiful. I appreciate the mystery all around us and small miracles that occur every day. I watched a video of a hummingbird building her nest for two tiny eggs. What a great God, we have to give a tiny little bird, the ingenuity to create a safe and sturdy place For her to babies🙏🏼🙂
I wonder if I will ever understand anything. D
What could be better than to be a seeker, a pilgrim, a traveler on the road to nowhere?
I love this so much! We are surrounded by beautiful things. The mundane become extraordinary with the right eye and curiosity. Thank you for the reminder.
I like this line: "The more I look at a thing, the more I see in it, and the more I see in it, the more I want to see."
But then, again, there are times you don't want to see like that.
I am the same way. Everything is so fascinating. If you just look a little closer. It’s sad that some people go through an entire lifetime and fail to notice. I flstalked some orb weavers year before last, and was devastated when the season came to an end, but was grateful I had the opportunity to witness them being all beautiful and creative and stuff.
Who makes the grass green?
It is only when i discard immediacy of self that i can begin to comprehend and observe the moment. Alas, that is a short but fabulous point in time. Then i show up
Contemplate the Mystery: Why is it that the more I know, the less I understand? Observation of the natural world is truly astonishing, but the unnatural world humanity has created defies my grasp.
Love this bit.
"This is the way I look at the world. I don't see it as a collection of objects, but as a vast and mysterious organism."
It is my experience that mystery is essential to soul development, for if we know how everything will turn out, what is the point of living? If we do not get ruffled, disturbed, surprised, disappointed, pleased, infuriated by what life serves, that would be really boring.
In January 1994, I started attending a church service of sorts in a rented hall in a commercial building. Each Sunday morning, someone responsible for the meeting talked about this or that.
After a few weeks, as a meeting came to close, a man, whom I had not seen there before, came forward from the back of the meeting hall and faced the gathering and told us to all close our eyes and ask God what we can best do to serve God?
That was the first mention of God I had heard in that “church”.
I closed my eyes and silently asked God what I could do to best serve God? Into my inner vision came a white quill writing pen. Tears welled in my eyes. I opened my eyes and got up and left.
That night after dinner, sitting with my diary and. a ballpoint pen in my “sitting chair” n my wife’s and my bedroom, looking out the window an old, majestic black willow tree and a big moon behind its branches, I opened my diary and put my pen on the paper and one word at a time started appearing, as if I was taking dictation, and I started bawling, and that went on every night for weeks, and then it stopped, and i typed it all up into my computer and then made it into a little saddle stitched pamphlet, which I named “A Crazy Person’s Bible”, because any one who lived God would have to be crazy to live as God wanted them to live, turning the other cheek, praying for our enemies, taking no thought for the morrow, it is more blessed to receive, first take the beam out of our own eye, etc.
Then, I had a couple of hundred copies made at a Kinkos and I put them in a cardboard box and took them to the mall where I lied to hang out during day time, and at night, when street performers were there. I set the box on a bench and I left. Later I came back and retrieved the box and what pamphlets were left in it and went home.
I kept doing that, and I kept printing more copies, and I kept doing that, and then a sequel came, and did it all again, and another sequel came, and I did it all again, and then it played out. And, then I wrote two novels at the same time, and finished writing them both on the same day.
Then, my life there imploded and I moved away and all those writings remained there and cannot be reproduced.
By then, I was beginning to use the internet, and in time I wrote maybe 50 thousand pages on blogs I paid someone to create for me, which developed a pretty good following.
Then, I got tangled in something I could have avoided, but if I had, I would not have learned a lot of things I didn’t know, which were very important. t/he cost was the two blogs were taken down by the web host host and were lost, unless I knew how to use cache to retrieve them, which I did not.The email account where I had sent out blasts of the blog posts to quite a few people got shut down, because I forgot the password and hotmail became outlook, and all of those writings were lost.
I started a new blog, and kept posting their daily for several years. Then, i started writing non-fiction books and novels again, and I put them on blogs until they were done, and then I put the entire book on the home page. A friend converted them so they could be read at the free internet library, archive.com, where they were, and are, read by people all over the world. My friend digitized my first novel and a book had written where the meltdown occurred, and he put them in the free internet library.
Because of him, the internet,and the free library, I will live on Earth for so long as that library exists, which might or might not be a good thing, depending on who is asked.
Here is the mystery poem written by the white quill pin and ended up in A Crazy Person’s Bible.
“Rosa Mystica”
Rosa Mystica,
Sweet Mystery,
Bride of Christ,
Living Water
without which
God is dead
and there are no rainbows.
“Then, I got tangled in something I could have avoided, but if I had, I would not have learned a lot of things I didn’t know, which were very important.“
Too true. If I had avoided all the things I should have avoided I’d be a lot dumber than I am right now.
Hilarious, Amen, Praise the Lord, F-ing A! :-)
A very good message from an insight.
Aamzing.
That's what every curious cat mind does.
Nice share.