On a positive note
I have been ill for about a week and a half or so, and I fluttered in a world of fever dreams and distractions because I did not feel at all like doing anything, although I felt like I -should- be doing something. And, you know, doing something compulsory tends to be very little fun when your heart's not into it. I haven't felt like there was any use in doing anything in a long, long, long time. There was more opportunity for joy when there was meaning woven into everything I interacted with, when I approached the world as filled with messages and communications.
Lately, I've been pretty caught up in the idea of the world being illusory or a projection of a broken mind, my psyche painting people, places and situations as reflections of my own error in perceiving. It's still a focus on illusion, I realize. That's still me focusing on something that doesn't exist. Focusing on the error does little to help shift focus to the reality, the reality being that there is only love. There is only Divinity. And that I am loved, love itself, loving.
Accepting that you are loved is really the best feeling.
Lately, I've been pretty caught up in the idea of the world being illusory or a projection of a broken mind, my psyche painting people, places and situations as reflections of my own error in perceiving. It's still a focus on illusion, I realize. That's still me focusing on something that doesn't exist. Focusing on the error does little to help shift focus to the reality, the reality being that there is only love. There is only Divinity. And that I am loved, love itself, loving.
Accepting that you are loved is really the best feeling.