I pretend that I can trace the cause of events to the past. But the chain of causation is broken each instant by a gap filled with the immeasurable void.
I pretend that I can infer and plan what the future will bring. But no future has ever existed anywhere but in the mind. The future consists only of thought, the fickle projection of memory.
Every attempt to fathom time and causation only proves how wildly the winds of karma whirl and buffet me in the storm of Unknowing, and how desperately I construct a flimsy ark of reason against the tidal waves of Divine Chaos that threaten to inundate this moment with eternity.
What's wrong with drowning? Why not plunge this mind into the heart, moved soley by the current of Wonder? A logical assessment of the situation would conclude that I actually have no other recourse but to fling myself into the ocean of Grace with a single prayer: "Thy will be done."
My task is not to decipher the past or future, nor to follow the tangled paths of my own thinking. My task is to connect with Wonder. Wonder dissolves time. Wonder annihilates walls. Wonder dissolves obstacles and conflicts. Wonder is formless, yet gazes upon me with a personal face, radiating like the sun with love in the empty sapphire sky of my freedom.
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