Spirituality

God does not exist in this world, more over; God as we know him exists only as an illusion, painted by creatures of a physical world in their likeness.

That which we call God is really nothing at all, and just as equally, everything that is. In his/her likeness I am sitting at my computer creating a senseless article about nothing. It is only a random thought echoing through the silence of this space, finding physical expression on a two dimensional screen and finally edged onto a peace of paper. These three dimensional symbols of my thoughts have some kind of vague meaning that is not even comprehensible to my physical mind. It is an exercise of futility with no meaning and no logical conclusion.

My illusive soul bears the burden of my weighted body and grows impatient for it to catch up. While I remain grounded with one foot firmly anchored traveling endlessly in incessant circles demanding to find where I started and where I will end up.

I am the resolute rodent putting one redundant foot forward and then another, always leaving, and always returning to the same spot, unaware of nothing more than the turning of the wheel and the next tread.

The silence suffers in silence and becomes deaf to it in time. The movement of the turning wheel gives silence meaning as it turns, in endless squeaks and rattles. My laboured breathing matches the heavy foot steps that crash exultantly through the silence in waves of self expression. I am that silence reaching out to give expression, I am not all that I claim to be until I demonstrate what I am not. I am the silence seeking to be the silent, always. The endless chattering of mind brings awareness of who I am and what I am and the noise of my own thinking brings with it the desire to know the splendor of silence, to return once again from where I came. To calm the impatient creature and silence the infinite wheel, to stop all motion so that once again I may know myself as nothing.

I am the eternal soul; I am the silence between your existences, the nothing that brings everything into your awareness and mine. When you want to know me, be silent!

Your thoughts are not your own, and you tune into them as a radio tunes into different random frequencies and reproduces them as sound. You reproduce these thoughts into physical reality. They are the eternal thoughts of others that came before. Thought is infinite. In the silence of space it travels in endless chaos until you bring it meaning and structure. You believe that these thoughts are yours and take ownership. You add one thought to another creating a new formula or equation that is uniquely yours and transmit them through the abyss until another tunes in.

All thoughts are joined together and melded by your unique personality. From the creative silence comes a new sound that resonates in your world passing from one to another and then once again lost in the infinite space that holds all things together. I am the silence and I listen for your clamour so that I might know myself as all things. You are that which you call life, unfettered, free 'to be, or not to be,' always moving, always creating, always.

I am the silent observer, the sound of silence and ever present in and around the resonant notes of a symphony of sound.

And as the silence becomes too loud, I will once again seek the clattering of your gilded cage, my precious.


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