I’m in a process of constant expansion.
One minute I’m deliriously happy – for no reason. (1) The next minute I’m totally complete.
I have lived. I have loved. I am done.
I’ve accomplished all I set out to do in life.
There’s nothing out there before me that represents my agenda. I have no agenda any more, save sharing this gift of the Mother’s Love that I’ve been given.
Last reading the Divine Mother said to me:
Divine Mother: Do not, please, ever underestimate the power of my love.
Steve: Why do you say that, Mother?
DM: When I love any being and they come to know it and receive it, transformation is not merely possible; it is inevitable. (2)
I so believe that, Mother. Why, look at me.
Years ago, a bitter, antagonistic guy wth a chip on his shoulder. And now I haven’t a care in the world. Released from the prison of my thoughts, Mother, by your Love.
The only area where I’m incomplete is that it seems necessary – whether just for this time or for all time – to share this love. Isolation does not become this love. But neither does chit-chat, drama or discord.
Mother, I’ve seen that the more I share about this space, the more it comes alive for me. The reason I went above the line (3) in the presence of three friends recently was that I was sharing about this loving space each time.
Mother, soon there will be none of me left, none of me as I’ve known me. But, as Rumi said, let me not exist for non-existence proclaims in organ tones my return to Thee. (4)
Nothing more remains to be said, Mother. At last there is peace. I am Thee, Mother. Thou art me. Thou art everything and so must I be.
(1) Devapriya reports the same phenomenon: http://gaiascene.com/topic/1180-bliss-joy-and-happiness/.
(2) Divine Mother in a personal reading with Steve Beckow, through Linda Dillon, June 7, 2015.
(3) Between unconscious and conscious awareness, ordinary and transformative love.
(4) Oh, let me not exist!
Proclaims in organ tones,
‘To Him we shall return.’”
(Anne and Christopher Fremantle. In Love with Love. 100 of the Greatest Mystical Poems. New York, etc.: Paulist Press, 1978, 58.)