Imagine yourself becoming something very different from what most of us want to be, in our striving grasping hustling, self-promoting everyday lives. Or think we want to be, at all events.
Imagine you could be that rare sort of humble, rich, heedfully attentive Soil - that quietly compos(t)ing, undemanding, unpresuming, pinprick-silent Presence - in which every human soul within the perimeter of your routine life could flourish and thrive, as never before. Could thrive so unprecedentedly, in fact - and so completely, in its assurance of its own nature, giftedness, grace, inmost self - that it had almost no further wish to compete, almost no desire to compare itself to any other human souls, whether "superior" or "inferior." No wish, in short, to be anything but itself. Even as it experienced, too, an all-but-irresistible longing to know just Who it was who was engracing and empowering him or her - or (it may be) you or me - to be ourselves in so strange a Way. A way of being oneself, on the one hand, so utterly and deliciously satisfying: yet one that also draws, entreats, entices, even goads this creature onwards, to become all the real fulness of itself, so to speak (hope I'm making sense).
Again, all its real fulness, as only its Maker can know and make it. Or yours, or mine. Almost as if this same God knew this creature's inmost soul unsearchable oceans of time before it knew it even had a soul. Even to the point where this human individual - of whom you are the soil, mind you - felt practically no need, no compulsion, either to be co-diminishing ("competitive") of others, or to feel diminished, or threatened. Or even defensive and "insecure"?
Imagine yourself, then - just as you are - becoming that same strange soil, in which this strange God can take root, and in which your neighbor can flourish.
I know. How boring. Not to mention how deplorably inefficient. In contrast to this most excitingly competitive, murderously efficient Russo-Ukrainean globe of ours.
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