How ever we define the complexities of being alive it always comes down to a sense of being divided from who we once we were & who we are. Being born, ironically, is a taking leave... a dying as it were. Dying is an entering... a returning... a being born. How do we reconcile the division of our divine selves from the loving awareness that created & creates, not only us, but all that is? I recognize in glimpses of recollection... when the fog of amnesia is not upon me... that there is no division. I am at the centre always. The Source emanates... radiates eternally. It includes all the facets, all the fractals. It expands ever-outward, kaleidoscopes ever-inward from the centre. My fellow sentient being: walk the labyrinth with me, inward, spiraling, circling, orbiting to the centre. To the source.
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