Can we bear the wound we carry?
The wound our family carries?
The wounds of our brother’s and sisters?
The wound of the world?
How much separation can we bear, before we break apart and shatter?
Before our nervous systems crackle and our hearts splinter?
Our limited sense of who we are cannot bear these wounds.
It is only our divinity which can bear them.
It is only the gateway of true being that can hold the space that is necessary for deep suffering to be held and sanctified.
It is not the story of you, your likes and dislikes, what you did in 9th grade, who you married, where you were educated, who hurt you and what they did. No. That is not that which can bear these deeply ancient wounds.
That which can bear our wound is timeless,
Timeless.
Infinite and timeless.
This presence does not need to be sought.
No.
It is here. It is that which is reading the words, not that which is interpreting them.
It is this vast, spaciousness, this infinite openness, this heartbeat of life.
Life.
Not you and I.
But life. All of life. The living, vivid and electric presence of Being.
Only that can bear all wounds.

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