The greatest understanding is like the thinnest ice. Do parade in pride unless you like an embarrassingly cold bath. No, walk lightly, without the need to stand for your right. This divine stage loves you, but cannot support you. It cannot carry carnality or support survival. The stories of your identity are wrecking balls in a crystal clear composition.
'Love!' the creator announces, again and again. This is the voice of totality of all parts, the composite of all fragments that have been speaking to you. But now the composition is reaching a crescendo, a zero point where space folds back in itself.
'Your pain is my pleasure, your suffering my salvation.' This is NOT a demon speaking, this is yourself. For you are that which you seek in Every. Every is the name of the thin ice of experiences, now moments, and spaces between thought, which make up your Truth.
To walk on Every is to walk on water. The ice never existed except as a mirror of the mind. When you see through the mirror, you see the truth of Every.
