'Yes, it is true,' said my flesh to my soul, 'every particle of matter is made
of the Mother. Every atom is a cathedral where pilgrims arrive from the stars
to celebrate this incarnation. You dwell in me as the warmth in a flame.
I irradiate the world with you. Let there be no more talk of our difference.'
My soul became silent, and knelt in the heart, and poured itself back into me,
as a breath into a breath.
Sublime Christmas music from early French composer Jean Mouton (b. 1459)
'Loneliness' is only a thought. You are never alone. Your breath connects you to the universe, and the universe whirls in your heart as a radiant Cloud of Witnesses: angels, Buddhas, all your ancestors, all your friends. Every inhalation is a wave of the omnipresent Creator's breath, and this Shakti animates each atom of flesh. A single photon is the communion of countless saints. Your body is made out of love. Believe this with your bones.