Dearest,
Thank you for being here with me in this moment to share in the gift of love. Today there is much going on, for everyone, but to step out of life and take respite in your affection colors all with clarity and purpose. You, Dear Ones, allow for the expansion of the feeling of love in my heart and the hearts of all you meet. You cannot help but exist in this way. That is why each time we are together, I must thank you for rescuing me from isolation and remind you of your beauty and grace.
The forces at work on the life of the planet and it's occupants necessitate a recollection of divine love unconditional in nature, all-encompassing, and eternally present. This feeling, or state of one's being can be touched upon only momentarily, before our calling seeks our attention and we return once again to the world of forms. That is why I am only able to join you here, now and no where else.
I am only able to come through to you when there is no place I'd rather be. I cannot speak to love when I am not in it. To say otherwise would be untrue, but I am learning to hold your gaze and seek your attention even in moments when I feel I would be crushed under the weight of its immensity. Dear Ones, I return to share these words with you because there is a part of me that feels the truth in their expression and lives with the knowing of the ultimate reality, but this knowing part is not the largest.
It is with a heavy heart that I must say I know not who I am. I desire love as though it is something that may be bought or gathered. I maintain an illusion of myself that is able to live without the only thing I've ever wanted. I leave love, sometimes. I forget. I turn my back on it. I am faced with myself at times and I just cannot help but say no, I can't love you. It's hard. This being I carry and see when I look in the mirror doesn't reflect my essence, and that hurts. I have known love, truth, infinity. But the form I see presented in times of pain represents a dissection of this wholeness, and a departure from the experience of it.
Shining Ones, it is you who have saved my soul the pain of countless tears, and sadness of a life of indifference, deaf to the screams of the innocent, forced into mindless existence. I've been there before. I've known this life as a phantom of something great, a project left unfinished on the table of the artisan, a stove mistakenly left on at night.
Out of these subconscious transflections is born infinite iterations of Patrick Dejour II both dead and alive, the most good, and the most atrocious, conscious of love and indifferent to pain. All of these aspects are contained within the blueprint of this man and only in times of connection with the One Eternal Spirit may I, the irreducible I, find rest and see all selves illuminated-as equally valid, loved, and true- under the light of the Eternal Sun.
That is why I'm here,
That is why I love you,
Patrick Dejour II