Ours Together Again

We begin life at the center of Creation. Life is warm, soft, and comfortable. It's a dream world of awakening, bristling senses and new awareness. Want is a thing unknown to us. We are swaddled within the walls of our luxurious amniotic garden where we grow to the rhythmic thumping which resonates through everything... for a moment.

This moments moment passes. We experience discomfort, pain, and perhaps fear for the first time as we emerge into much harsher environs filled with grappling hands, loud noises, utter chaos, and an inexplicable heaviness. All temporary and soon forgotten tribulations as we settle into our new habitat. We acclimate well to the work of this alien world; propulsion, motion, respiration, ingestion, vocalization, and when we are not pleased, agitation. Our mere fussing brings soothing hands, smiling faces, jangling keys, a wondrous retinue of attention and distraction. We fuss the most for food and dry bottom comfort, a pleasure seldom appreciated while in the prime of our life.

In this time, we can do no wrong because we know no wrong. Everyone loves us because we are the just and proper living focus of all love and devotion. Yes, it's good to be... us. By our every experience and understanding, we are immortal, omniscient, omnipotent, and aside from the occasional assault by the malicious coffee table corner or the unrepentant malevolence of the hardwood floor, we are impervious to harm. We are sovereignty swaddled behind fortified walls, fuzzy, soft, downy fleece walls buttressed by our parent's gentle, loving arms. In the constant worship and rocking of our Seraphim, we nap, babble, and gurgle upon the very Throne of Heaven... for a time.

Slowly and with anguish, we are stripped of our Deity. Brought down and fallen from such resplendent rank to the tender soles of our feet upon hard and unforgiving ground. We bear being subject to the word, no. We study and learn under the searing sting of correction. We ossify under the humiliation of accidental mistake and the disgrace of intentional error. Comfort becomes a commodity increasingly rare and quickly spent. Work and production rather than repast and recreation hold us to responsibility and obligation. Yet our hearts still hunger for the safety and contentment of our lost divinity, our ears crave the soothing, steady heartbeat from outside which consoles and assures that all is well.

Our callousing condition either strengthens or suffocates us inside our fleshed vessels; the redoubt of our mortality, the lonely patch of rock to which our lives cling. These uncharted island we inhabit are the only homes we have ever known. Yet, we still want, wait for, and need the rhythm of a heartbeat not our own to make our common, very human lives livable. In this inner place filled with emptiness all mankind shares our human, very common lives.

All Peace comes from Wisdom, and all Wisdom comes from God…

“No man is an island”, each is tightly woven from the same skein to the other. As every island is not truly an island, but a mountain connected by a deep, unseen fabric to every inch of earth and every other mountain.

Like the island mountains, man and woman are tightly woven from the same skein, rooted in a common ground, standing on a shared foundation, swimming in the same deep water, and no one ever stands or falls alone.

When each comes upon their season to drop from the Tree of Life, they will be remembered until we reunite. As the leaf returns to the ground it feeds the Tree and becomes one with what was thought to be lost... Forever. We are tightly woven from the same skein, rooted in a common ground, standing on a shared foundation, swimming in the same deep water, and no one ever stands or falls alone.

This is Ours Together, again.