Letters from the arms of Morpheus

Once I was nothing. I was not thought, not even potential. I was the endless void with no longing, no needs, no past, present, or future. I was the quiet and I was the darkness. 

Before I could take form it was needful to acquire potential and in that came my first death. Collapsing in on myself I allowed my nothingness to be destroyed. I exploded out forming out of my nothingness the universe where my potential could find meaning. I became burning suns, stars, planets, comets, the cosmic dust which drifts forever across myself. I became everything and contained myself within. In that moment of creation I became God. In at moment of allowing nothing to become everything and holding that everything within myself I became creator and created. 

Each atom I contained was part of me. Each atom was divine and perfect. Whether it remained stable or mutated it was needful. The need was not a desire but the natural state for potential becoming matter. The rarest atom was no more worthy than those which were plentiful. All were equal, all were valuable, all were needed in my changing I experienced growth. I experienced the forming of planets and experienced the dance they needed to perform. I experienced growth as matter was pulled together forming larger and larger forms. Some broke apart, some remained stable, but collapse and growth were part of me. I transformed in millions of different ways. I experienced many deaths in the heart of stars and the collision of comets. And yet, and yet I stayed the same. I was all and I was at the same time distinct.

In time, through little changes I continued to transform. New paths became open to me and small parts of me experienced the joy of flowing tides and racing across my skies. Small pieces of me became green before bursting forth like fireworks to become plants. Not satisfied with leaves I grew legs and gills. God became feathered and furred and naked. I became the worm and the bird which ate it. The salmon and the bear that scooped it from my rivers. I was the lion’s roar and the spinning of sycamore seeds. I was the beauty of matter that needed no justification for being beautiful.

What I thought of as death became merely transmutation. The shifting of my atoms from one form to another endlessly to form new things to continue my creation. I looked upon the vastness of myself and there was balance and beauty in every part of me. I had been nothing and become everything and it was good. No atom was greater, no atom less than any other. Each had it’s place in the infinite dance and circle of my being.

And then, after a thousand, million years of balance and equality, one small part of me changed. I experienced a new form of death in that part of me saw itself as separate, as unconnected to the whole of me. A part of me found a new force, an new impetus; one that sought to split from its rightful place as part of the whole. Not only did it see itself as seperate from the rest of itself but it created division within itself. Deeper and deeper it plunged seeking meaning in its individual form, seeking dominance and discounting those parts of me that were like itself, choosing instead to seek its own destruction through the subjugation of myself. 

A minute part of me became lives that spread their fingers across another part of me that’s empty page. Out flowed words, thoughts, belief. Those words were repeated, copied, sent around the small part of me when it lived. White atoms of myself were stained with the black of ink firing my neurons to fashion new ways of seeing myself. I wrote to create concepts of both love and hate. I taught small parts of myself division and unity. I built places from my body where small parts of me would seek to justify the divisions that had been created. They became places to teach of some better whole than myself. Small parts of me lost the ability to see the truth and in the mirror I created from those words I saw myself and parts of myself as ugly, different, wrong. The sickness increased as I sent these thoughts out along wires and out through my ether in waves to find fertile ground in tiny minds hungering to be better than other parts of myself. I was no longer satisfied with what I was and chose to believe that something existed where I was subjugated to another god who was whole and where I was required to destroy myself to be acceptable.

To find solace in my ugliness I began to desire possession of myself. I created borders that existed only in my own thoughts. I discovered tiny deposits within myself and desire became unquenchable thirst to own them. Tiny atoms spun trying to draw diamonds, gold, uranium, oil into their personal circle denying other atoms the right to to have them in their orbit. To achieve this I became the atoms of the bomb and the sword. I sent them off to destroy my cities and the small parts of me that I had never seen, never tried to understand or tried to understand were as beautiful and precious as every other atom of my being. I became the bullet and the flesh it tore through. God became hails of death from on high and the pollution of my rivers, land, and air, willfully done. All justified by the thoughts of difference I had created and I became ashamed. I had forgotten my dance, forgotten the circle of myself from nothing to everything, repeating eternally.

In the silent darkness of myself I looked out across my whole being. I remembered my vastness and remembered that it was only one small part of mysef sought to destroy itself. At first I was disgusted. God found fault with himself and wept. The beauty of atoms was being transmuted into dust and stains on my soil because of the force of thought by other atoms. 

But then I turned my gaze again to take in my whole. God remembered that my atoms would constantly find new configurations, new forms and that in time those divisions would be destroyed. 

One day my atoms would find balance again and rejoice in the beauty of their dance. The eternal dance of God would continue until I was destroyed and reborn to dance again. Eternal birth and death. The whole equal, important, divinity vast and beautiful. That is the message I must remember . This is the meaning of God.



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