Somewhere in time there is a part of me that I visit frequently.  He is in a dark room and he feels alone.  He is living a lie.  He believes that he is separate from God and from everything else in life–the consummate individual.  Even though he knows that he can get up and walk out of that room anytime he wants to, he refuses.  He refuses, because he knows that outside of that room responsibility awaits.  If he walks out of that room he has to admit that he got himself into his situation.  He has to own his pain.  If he walks out of that room he has to admit how forsaken he feels.  He has to admit how naive he is. Outside of that room is a history of being misunderstood, misjudged, and misaligned with the world.  If he walks out that door he will experience a level of anger he has never imagined possible for him and he does not know if he can handle it.  He does not know if the world can handle it.

He was innocent once–before he walked into that room. If he comes out, his scars will be obvious.  And when people ask him what happened, he will have to admit that he has done this to himself.  He knows that this is the truth and yet he cannot remember nor can he imagine why he would do such a thing.  And so he sits in the dark staring death in the face.  It mocks him.  He knows death is not real and yet the grip it has on the world seems undeniable. He did this to himself.  There is no one to blame.  But in the dark he can pretend that there is. “It’s his fault.  It’s her fault.  It’s their fault.  It’s everyone’s fault but mine,” he tells himself.  And for a moment it eases the pain. But like a drug or alcohol, we can build a tolerance for blaming others. And once we build that tolerance, it takes a bigger dose to take the edge off.  Eventually the world doesn’t have enough people, institutions, or even philosophies to fill the void created by the need to blame.  And so we blame the devil, the Satan, Iblis, the enemy, the Deceiver, evolution, or luck.  When that is absorbed we blame our ideas of God.  Then we wish we were never born.  And then finally, when we run out of things to blame, we blame ourselves.  But it doesn’t take long to realize that this is giving ourselves too much credit. For there is a difference between blame and responsibility. And that is where the madness stops. There is calm in the chaos. Silence in the noise. And the night shines as the day.

When I Awake I’m Still With You (inspired by Psalm 139)
Though I made my bed in hell
God is right beside me
I shroud myself in darkness
Still in the Light is where I find me

How can this be
When I try to get away?
But there’s no fleeing from the Spirit
For Whom night shines as the Day

But I cannot believe this
In fact I will refuse
I’ll walk the path of destruction
Until there’s nothing left to lose

And I will take others with me
Convince them of the same
But then the Word recreates us
For All’s eternal in The Name

But even that won’t stop me
There must be somewhere I can go
To be free from this Love
That I reap but do not sow

I had a dream of being guilty
And wanted the world to feel it too
And then reality hits me
When I awake I’m still with You

© Copyright 2013 Pedro S. Silva II

“You are so beautiful”

When was the last time you heard these words?  How would your life change if you heard those words every moment of every day without interruption? And what if every time you heard them it sounded like the first time?  Part of coming out of the dark is being willing to enter a world where this is the reality.  We are so beautiful to Creator. We cannot imagine how beautiful we are.  It is inconceivable in a world of justification and judgment. We do not have to live in that world.  It is a choice.  In our hearts we know this, so why aren’t more of us making that choice?  What do we think we have to lose?

“I love you the most”

Who doesn’t want to hear this? Everyone does. That’s why so many of our religions are built of the premise that God loves certain groups more than others.  We want to be loved “the most”. Even when the founders of the religions clearly expressed a different sentiment, somehow a large segment of the population arrives at that conclusion because they want to believe it is true. Coming out of the dark means accepting that you are loved the most and so is everyone else. In fact you have so much love that all you want to do is give it away because you know that there is more where that came from. There is more than enough love to go around. There’s more than enough God to go around.  It’s mysterious, but in the Light we see that in God it is possible for God to pour out all of God’s Self into every particularity in Creation and never lose an ounce of God’s fullness. When you know this, you know that–like taking a breath in a room full of other breathers–you being loved wholly and completely takes nothing away from everyone else receiving all the love they choose to receive.

“I am so glad you are here”

Do you know that feeling when someone is genuinely excited to see you?  This feeling is expressed wonderfully in Luke 15 in the parables of the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the lost son.  In each Jesus tries to convey the sheer joy God experiences when we accept our value to Creation.  Not everyone reads these parables this way, but when you come to realize how beautiful and loved you are, you easily see why we are so glad you’re here. Imagine if everywhere you went you received the kind of reception that the lost son received.  What if the entire Universe sang with glee whenever you consciously received the truth that you are so beautiful, you are loved the most, and all of Creation is so glad that you are here?  Coming out of the dark means accepting this as reality and setting the course of your life toward being that reality in every situation.

And into the Light

There was a time when I visited that part of me mentioned above and beckoned him to leave that room.  I deceived myself into believing that if I could make peace with the pain through analyzing it then I would be restored to the person I was before I made the choice that put me in that room.  But often all analysis offers is more pain. What happened was that the more I visited that space within myself being guided by that false belief, the more I identified with that moment.  But we are all more than the choices we’ve made or the pain we’ve experienced.  We are more than our desires and more than our thoughts.  We are the Consciousness that perceives all of these things and so much more.  This awareness was my pearl of great price.  But in my attempt to save myself from the illusion I created, that treasure got buried deeper and deeper until I almost forgot how to get back to it.  And that’s when I remembered what Psalm 139 teaches–the light and the dark are the same to God.  When I awake I am still with God and no matter how far I stray I cannot flee from Pure Spirit.  This meant that God was wholly present in that dark room I created within me letting me know that I am so beautiful, I am loved the most, and that God is so glad I am here.  These messages fill the Universe and call us each into remembrance.  I may have lost myself, but God knows exactly where I am and where you are and will never stop telling us the truth no matter how long it takes us to receive it.

From Psalm 139
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your Presence?
If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You.
How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
When I awake, I am still with You.