Genesis

In the beginning, there was no difference between Earth and Paradise. We were all Elohim, just ordinary Gods. Out of pure consciousness, we imagined flesh, sensuous undulation in the void, so that we might touch and dance, our soul-bodies vibrating through infinitesimal particles of chiaroscuro, a harmony of light and darkness, allowing each of us to manifest a unique glory. Did we dance in uncreated Light, or the light of creation? A meaningless distinction. Did we touch in divine Darkness, or the darkness of ignorance? Again, a meaningless distinction...

At some point in eternity, one of us conceived of "something better," and started whining, complaining, "Is this all there is? We need to improve things around here." The notion of "something better" spread quickly until there were two groups of Gods, the Angels of the Ordinary and the Angels of Utopia.

We gathered the Council of Elohim to discuss what to do. I must remind you that the word used for God in your Bible is Elohim, the plural, which means "Gods," not El, the singular. There is no separate single God but only we, the Gods. And we are not a collective. We are singular persons.

In council we decided it would be best to separate the Angels of the Ordinary from the Utopians before the rebellion went any further. So we created the Earth as you know it for the whiners. Or rather, you were allowed to create it for yourselves, from the energy of whining.

These two realms are really not as separate as they seem. All that separates them is a mirage, a veil of thought. As soon as your thoughts become silent and you stop complaining, you descend into the heart, and awaken the world of Beauty, which is already spread out around you. In that moment, you have fallen back into Paradise.

The truth is, both Utopians and the Angels of the Ordinary are busy doing “good.” The difference is, when a Utopian desires to do a good work, they only see lack and imperfection. When an Ordinary Angel desires to do a good work, they see only fullness overflowing into deeper fullness. They take up the chant of microbes, the song of worms, the cry of the field mouse in the beak of the owl, the sigh of fir needles scattered by the lonesome November wind.

ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते

पूर्णश्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥

ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥

Om Purnamadah Purnamidam

Purnat Purnamudachyate

Purnasya Purnamadaya

Purnameva Vashishyate

Om shanti, shanti, shanti

Painting by Jean-Achille Benouville,1841