There is no conflict, there is only the limit
The powerful simplicity … a state of being so powerful as to give life to everything….
The world and the whole universe in silence is waiting for you to return to yourself,
the one who can put an end to this nonsense, this pain…
Everything is here waiting for you,
waiting for the instant in which everything happens,
in which you provide the saving direction and at the same time healing and solutions…
… But you, immobile, you are there, in front of a sandy beach, a seemingly barren and desolate wilderness
You turn to look back, without understanding, without realizing that the game continues…
To cross the desert you need a technique, it is like crossing the waters, it is a rising….
It is a vertical step that only a few can see.
From that height, in the transparent rarefied air, everything acquires meaning,
things go back to their correct place and the game is perfect.
But woe to those who identify themselves, woe to those who do not remember! Identification is forgetfulness and identification clears the right to authorship that belongs to the dreamer, and cancels him out in creation, transforming him into the dreamt, swindled by his own creations, a prisoner of the shadows and at the mercy of events.
The Promised Land is not a place to get to but it is the metaphor of a journey towards harmony…
The Promised Land is not a geographical place; you cannot find the civitas dei in the horizontal world believing that there is a magical place on earth in which to build the city of the Lord.
The civitas dei is found in the absence of time and space and causality,
the civitas dei is not the prerogative of any nation or people,
it is not a physical territory…
So is the Promised Land.
The civitas dei seen as a geographical location is another illusion, another division, a rift leading to recreating religions with all their corollary of absurdity, only able to recreate the suffering of their wars, and the futility of their poverty. Ideologies without any reason for existence…
…. Throughout history, the descriptions related to memories are just imagination….
Apparently it seems that things are messy but there is a higher order that is always present. The fact of not being able to see it and touch it throws us in a panic, we are so impressed by this apparent chaos, prisoners of this peripheral vision.
The view from below prevents us from raising our vision to a higher horizon, the greatness of which would raise us up immediately.