“The Touch Of God”

I offer the following poem:

***

Once upon a time,

The silent voice of the Lord sang through His people;

And hearing His glorious song,

They were changed, dramatically.

In the NOW of eternity,

They recognized their true nature--they were of Him;

Thus, they realized that they, too, must be Holy!

Gladdened, they also learned 

That their world became more loving

When they ensured that His mark

Was left upon everything they touched.

***

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. My YouTube videos may be found through this link. May the content of either or both help you along your spiritual journey. 🙏🧡

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

A Tear From The Divine

Bruno did not cry, ever. For as long as he could remember, he had believed that crying was a sign of weakness; and he, Bruno Steinbeck, was a strong man. The narrative that played in Bruno’s mind was, “I am a man with whom to be reckoned. If you mess with me, you will find yourself in a big mess.” A body builder, Bruno trained at the gym five days a week, lifting ever-increasing weight. When his body had refused to comply with his demand of “more, bigger muscles,” he had forced it to submit to his will through the use of steroids. He would show the world his strength, or die in the attempt.

Outside of the gym, Bruno was also a force with which to be reckoned. The notion of conquest that he applied to weights in the gym also applied to his relationships and the women he dated. How good it felt to have attractive women hanging on his arms. In business, he also applied a motto of beat or be beaten. Earth was a competitive arena, with no room for losers; it was survival of the fittest. On a superficial level, life felt very good; but there was a yet-to-be recognized level of suffering lurking beneath the surface.

As part of his training, Bruno often posed in front of full-length mirrors to study the shape and size of his muscles. It was during one such posing session, that Bruno noticed one lone tear suddenly run down his right cheek. He was holding weights at the time, so there was nothing he could do to hide it. Would other body builders see it?! There was the tear…trickling downward, until it reached his upper lip. As quickly as he could, Bruno set down the dumbbells he had been holding and wiped the tear aside with his palm. Unnerved by the bizarre occurrence, he left the gym early that day.

***

That night, just before Bruno drifted off to sleep, “That” which sent the tear to him at the gym, spoke to him softly but clearly. It seemed as though he was feeling the words emanate from the pillow beneath his head: “Dear child, “It said, “you’re carrying too much burden. Put down your weight and awaken to That which you really ‘are.’ You’ve been dreaming your so-called life; of apparently being a muscular man named Bruno, who is six-feet tall. Please listen to me now; you’ve ignored Presence far too long. Give rest to your innocent ignorance and awaken to Truth. You cannot possibly be who you ‘think’ you are; that is delusion related to your egoic self. To know the lasting peace that ‘passes all understanding,’ you must know thyself.”

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones), press here. My YouTube videos can be found at Think2wice@I-Am-Aware. May the content of either or both help you along your spiritual journey. “Thank You” & “Note to Publishers” 🙏🏻🧡

Good Reason To Hate

(Note: It is highly likely that this will be my shortest article). With reference to the title of this article, I offer the following:

***

None.

***

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Good Rumblings at “The Place”

Tom and Jerry, who were caretakers at The Place, had sneaked out the back door for a smoke. They had worked hard for the previous few days, in preparation for the spiritual gathering that had begun only a half hour prior. As rules governing social attendance had been dismissed, The Place was packed to the rafters with one thousand men, women, and children.

“Should be a quiet night,” said Jerry, after he exhaled a deep draw from his cigarette, “I don’t think those spiritual folks will get too rowdy.”

“Yup,” said Tom, “clean up should be a breeze, too.”

They continued to puff and chat; but within the next few minutes, they noticed a groundswell of sound from behind them. They could actually feel it; it pulsed through the air as though by its own life.

“What the heck…” began Jerry.

“…is going on?” finished Tom. With that, both men stubbed their cigarettes beneath their boots and went back inside and climbed the iron stairs that led to a small overhead viewing platform.

Below them, a woman holding a microphone was jubilantly shouting questions. She moved with electrified vigour upon the stage.

“What’s The Center of your life?” she cried, with a triumphant wave of her free hand.

From the crowd (consisting of persons who were rising to their feet in increasing numbers) came the powerful reply: “God Is!” In unanimous agreement, they accentuated their replies with a loud “Thump, Wump” stomp of their feet.

“And where is The Center?”

“Wherever I Am!” Thump, Wump!

“Is The Center in you?”

“Oh, yes!” Thump, Wump!

“Is The Center in your neighbour?”

“Yes, there, too!” Thump, Wump!

“Is there anywhere that The Center isn’t?“

“Nooo!” Thump, Wump!

As the sound continued to build in intensity, Tom and Jerry looked at each other, stunned by the appearance of persons young and old being moved by the Spirit of Truth.

“I’ve heard rock bands quieter than this!” shouted Jerry, with a hand cupped aside his mouth.

“Me, too!” shouted Tom.

Again, the woman on stage urged the crowd onward: “Where is The Center?”

“Everywhere!”

Leaning forward, she filled her lungs to the brim, then turned and cried, “I can’t hearrr you!”

“EVERYWHERE!” came the thunderous reply. Thump, Wump!

“And where does IT end?”

“Nowhere!” Thump, Wump! Thump, Wump!

“Is it your essential nature?!”

“Yes,” cried the crowd, “oh, yes!” Thump, Wump!

With the last reply, Tom and Jerry turned from the platform and made their way outside for another smoke. “Crazy kooks,” muttered Jerry. “I second that!” exclaimed Tom, raising his hand. It was time, they agreed, to break out the bottle of whiskey that they had stashed behind a panel for just such an emergency.

***

What Tom and Jerry didn’t realize is that the Omnipresent God that the people were celebrating is often referred to as Consciousness. It has been described as a sphere, whose center is everywhere and perimeter nowhere. It is “That,” the one-and-only Power which was actually empowering Tom and Jerry’s freedom to deny Its very existence. Due to innocent ignorance, Tom and Jerry were unintentionally “prodigal sons.” If they grow weary enough of the world, Grace might gently nudge them to look within and discover their true nature. Conversely, they might continue to cope with life’s apparent challenges through bottles of malty distraction. Regardless of the outcome, All is ultimately good.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

All Knowers on Deck

WEE-Oww; Wee-Oww; Wee-Oww: To the knowers, the piercing stabs of the blaring sirens was incredibly painful–eardrums threatened to rupture. Intuitively, they realized that the alarms signalled a perilous world situation of the highest magnitude. At heart level, they felt the following message: “All knowers on deck! Report to the bridge, Now! What ensued was the sound of stampeding footfalls and near misses as knowers raced to duty. At the bridge, aka Central Control, the dial gauges reported a dire situation, indeed:

Degree of Unconsciousness: Red alert. Levels of unconsciousness and risk of threatening behaviour nearing an all-time high. Danger of increasing chaos.

Persons-Knowers Ratio: Deeply egoic. Number of frightened egos dramatically increasing as unfounded fears reach insane levels.

Degree of Forgetfulness: Almost total. State of prodigal amnesia of the masses in full swing across nations. Some awakening occurring.

Propaganda Meter: Very high. Persons with opposing views broadly censored and subjected to ridicule and unjustifiable punishment for refusing to get in step with the program.

Dream Immersion: Situation critical. The majority of persons deeply asleep. Reaching bottom may occur.

***

Dear Readers: To those of you who as yet don’t realize that this–right now–is, indeed, a collective dream, I offer the following four passages from various books to help you knowingly re-awaken to Truth.

The first is from The Heart of Sufism, by Hazrat Inayat Khan:

The second is from A Course In Miracles:

The third is from Thought Power, by Swami Sivananda:

The fourth is from The One in The Mirror, by Ramesh S. Balsekar:

***

With expressions that reflected the pain of the worldwide situation, the knowers looked at one another and steadied themselves within. They realized that to rise out of the darkness that’s currently enveloping the world, they must maintain a positive vision and respond appropriately, with Love.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Namaste-Not World Government

Namaste (loosely translated as): Salutation, Bow to you, “I honour the Greatness within you“

***

Soul, calling to be heard: “Ringgg. Ringgg. Ringgg.”

NNWG, recorded message: “Thank you for calling. You’ve reached Namaste-Not World Government. All of our Habitual State operators are asleep right now, but we’d like to assure you that here at Namaste-Not World Government, ignoring you–and your concerns–is of utmost importance. We take denying your innate Greatness and so-called civil liberties very seriously, indeed. Please stay on the line; please stay on the line; please stay on the line.” Buzzz.

Soul, calling to be heard: “Ringgg, Ringgg, Ringgg.”

Soul, calling to be heard: “Ringgg, Ringgg, Ringgg.”

***

Isn’t it time to bring a ~~little~~ LOT more HEART to our world?

When better than NOW?

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

The Barcode Checker

Domnarian, as he liked to be called, was a Barcode Checker, First Class. He had worked his way up through the rank and file of other checkers and passed his final exam. His mission was simple, although not easy. To him befell the task of recording an accurate number of those who were awake and those who were still asleep. From north pole to south, the world was divided into four major sections of longnitude. He was responsible for overseeing the performance of affiliate barcode checkers in each section, who arranged the installation of automated polling machines. Persons would arrive, as demanded, and stand on a large X, six feet in front of the scanning machine.

In a digitalized voice, the machine would ask: “Who are you?”

At millions of machines, the answers were recorded with various versions of the following: “I am Jane Smith; I am Vladamir Ivanov; I am Maria Sanchez; I am Samar Khatri; I am Aina Tanaka; I am Carlos Sousa. The process was ongoing, 24/7, with the statistics being gathered through thousands of worldwide computers. If the machines, which were programmed with rudimentary lie-detector capabilities, sensed hesitancy or a reply that was slightly amiss in tone or inflection, a light at the top would flash amber. The machine would then utter: “Halt, say again. Who are you?”

Unbeknownst to the masses, The State considered each person little more than a barcode, a file that could be easily scanned to reveal if said person agreed or disagreed with The State’s agenda. Pertinent information, such as degree of awakeness, (and thus, potential threat to The State) was flagged with letters of the alphabet. The letter E, for enlightenment, signified high alert.

What The State didn’t realize was that there was a dramatic upsurge in the numbers of Beings who were recognizing their essential nature. When asked the question (“Who are you?”), such “persons” would face the machines and, with feigned indifference, reply with their barcode name. Inwardly, however, they were smiling. Occasionally, the machines would briefly flash yellow, to caution that it was possible that the person was a knower.

In time, Domnarian will be looking for other employment. Why? Because True Humanity is rising, glorious and triumphant. The number of “knowers” is increasing expoentially. These are the ones who are secretly “walking away from the machine mentality.” They know: I Am That I Am. I Am a child of God, an aspect of the One-and-Only Creator; and there is no-thing and no earthly power that can take “That” away from me. Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. My YouTube videos may be found via this link. May the content of either or both help you along your spiritual journey. 🙏🤍

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

The Exclusivity Bus

Note: (Source made it very clear that the dialogue in this article would be spoken with a thick English accent. For the bus driver’s character, it will help if you imagine him as a pirate of old–in contrast to our modern-day pirates. The young boy in this account, Oliver, is six years of age and about to begin Grade One.)

***

Oliver and his mum had just arrived at the curb near the front of their home when they saw The Exclusivity Bus round the corner and pull to a stop in front of them. The doors yawned open, and Captain Jack, the bus driver, peered toward Oliver. “What say ye, young lad,” he bellowed, “arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?!”

Nervously, Oliver adjusted the mask over his face and turned to his mum. “What does he mean, Mum? I don’t know what to say.”

Oliver’s mum leaned down and looked him softly in the eyes. “Say, ‘friend,’ Oliver. You know, the way that we practiced last night afore bed. And show Captain Jack your boarding pass, the one with the squiggly pattern on it.”

“Aye, Mum,” said Oliver. Reluctantly, he turned from her hug and boarded the bus. When Oliver reached the top step, Captain Jack leaned forward, scanned the pass card that hung from Oliver’s neck, and a large overhead screen flashed “ACCEPTABLE” for the rest of the students to see. As the bus lumbered ahead, Oliver made his way down the aisle and sat opposite another young boy.

“Today should be great fun,” said the boy. “We’re going to learn so much.”

Oliver looked at him and smiled weakly. A feeling deep within told him that something was amiss.

Onward the bus rambled through the streets of Oppressorville. At each stop, he repeatedly heard Captain Jack bellow, “Arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?”

A few blocks later, Oliver smiled and felt his heart gladden as the bus eased to a stop in front of his friend’s home. Janie and her dad were standing at the curb. Oliver and Janie had been best friends for three whole years, ever since they and their parents had met at a local playground.

As Oliver watched, Janie’s dad gave her a departing hug; and Janie approached the entrance to the bus. True to his training, Captain Jack leaned forward and bellowed, “What say ye, lass? Arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?”

“I’m just being me,” said Janie, with a broad smile. She felt excited and happy to be wearing her new knapsack for school.

Captain Jack rolled his eyes and raised his head to glare at Janie’s father. “Be she friend or foe?”

“She’s just being true to herself,” her father stated calmly. “Our family lives and let’s live.”

Captain Jack screwed up his face and sternly demanded, “Does the lass have a pass?”

“No,” said Janie’s father.

“Then, by the power of the state,” barked Captain Jack, “I, deem that she be UNNACCEPTABLE for this bus!” He then slapped the doors closed and pressed hard on the accelerator. Before the bus had pulled away, Oliver stared out the bus’s window and made eye contact with Janie, who was sobbing beside her father.

***

Seven hours later, the bus rolled to a stop in front of Oliver’s home. His mum was waiting to greet him. As soon as Oliver stepped from the bus, he broke into tears. Despite his mum’s best efforts, she could not calm him. He was inconsolable.

“What’s the matter, Ollie?” she asked, when they were back inside their home. “Didya no’ have a good day at school?”

“I’m no’ going back–ever!” blurted Oliver. Tears were rolling down his red cheeks. “I don’t like it…atoll!”

“Did they mistreat ya?”

“It’s no’ that,” snuffled Oliver. “It’s the meaness. They wouldn’t let Janie on the bus.”

Oliver’s mum’s spine sagged and her face went pale as she realized what had happened. She’d heard of such accounts. “Well, it’s just the way life is right now,” she said. “We must be good friends of the state and do as we’re tol’.”

“Even if it hurts our friends and family?” asked Oliver.

A brittle silence filled their living room, his mum initially uncertain of what to say. Finally: “But you want to learn, don’t you?”

Oliver’s chest quivered to a brief pause. He sat upright and turned to face his mum, his dark brown eyes shining with truth. “Not if this is what they’re teaching me, Mum,” he said. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“I know,” said his mum after a few moments of reflection, “but you’ll get over that in time.”

***

Dear Readers: A prayer that we’ll reach for the best that we have to offer our world. We’ll know that we’ve achieved it by the accompanying good feelings.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. May it help you in your spiritual journey. 🙏🤍

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

Bow Not To “The Megaphone”

Aanan, who was ten years of age, stopped dead in his tracks and watched in horror as his little brother Nathan, who was five, ran straight into the town square where “The Megaphone” was positioned atop a black marble base. Around its perimeter was a macabre decorative pattern that was identical to signs that were placed conspicuously throughout their little town, each with a singular camera-eye in the middle. Although not stated overtly, the meaning of the signs was absolutely clear: “Beware, we are watching.” Everyone knew that proper behaviour decreed that all citizens must halt at the perimeter of the circular pattern, bow, and then kneel before continuing on their way.

Two loud “Pssst, Psssssst’s!” from Aanan, followed by a piercing whistle soon caught Nathan’s attention. Aanan was frightened that the sirens positioned atop The Megaphone would blare at any moment.

“What?” Nathan called as he turned nonchalantly to look at his brother.

“Come here!” snapped Aanan, with a wave of his arm.

“Uh, uh,” said Nathan, “I gotta do somethin’ first.”

Aanan rolled his eyes as his little brother disappeared from sight on the far side of The Megaphone. Nervously, he waited…and waited. Less than a minute later, his little brother strolled into sight on the other side of The Megaphone.

“Don’t you ever–EVER–do that to us again!” snapped Aanan. “You could have gotten us into BIG trouble!” He grabbed his little brother’s shoulder and yanked so forcefully that Nathan momentarily lost his balance.

At home that night, when Nathan was lying in his bed, tears flowed down his soft cheeks as he hugged his teddy bear and thought of his mom and dad. They were both “gone” now; but his thoughts flowed to a night when his mother had hugged him close in their cozy living room and told him the following:

“You’re a dear child of God,” his mother had whispered as she stroked his hair, “the same as all of us. You’re not owned by any human. In this household, your father and I live respectfully; we express loving compassion to everyone to the best of our ability. When we look at others, we see ourselves because we know that we come from the same Creator. We give thanks to God for our very life.”

His mother’s words, which intuitively felt right, were directly opposite to those of his older brother. “No!” Aanan would exclaim repeatedly, “we belong to The Megaphone. We must do what The Megaphone tells us to do!” Aanan had heard stories about what could happen to those unfortunate beings who refused to submit. In his heart, he even wondered if that’s what had happened to his parents.

Nathan hugged his teddy bear more closely, and his tears ran in such abundance that his teddy’s face soon became damp. Nathan was afraid, so very afraid. What if the rumor was true, that The Megaphone really did know if we went number one or number two when we went to the bathroom? Unbeknownst to Aanan, when Nathan was on the far side of The Megaphone he had peed against its base. It had felt so good, so very good. A few minutes later, Nathan rolled onto his side and snuggled under the covers; but even with his head covered, he could hear the heavy sounds of the tall-booted Megaphone Soldiers marching past his window.

***

Dear FamilyOfOne,

Regarding the darkness that is represented in this fictional story, perhaps we might ask ourselves what type of “world” we are building this moment, this day, this week. What potential consequences might arise from our thoughts, beliefs, and actions–or inactions? Are we expressing compassion, consideration, and respect for everyone, or are we part of The Megaphone Society that hopes to win–what?!–by domination of our brothers and sisters? The choice (perhaps forgotten) is ours. HERE and NOW we may exercise awareness and put the POWER of LOVE toward shared good intentions.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

An Email To Art

In a paradoxical twist, I share the fictional email below to relate Truth. May its message of love resonate with your heart and help to alleviate confusion that is the cause of our apparent suffering:

***

“Dear Art,

It is I Am, the Only One. I reach to you because I desire to ease your troubled heart. Your grief and despair, which is broadly termed suffering, have become too burdensome to carry. Because of my boundless love for you, I have formulated this message about your essential nature. Please read it carefully in a time and place conducive to introspection.

I Am well aware of what has been going on in your apparent world. You, and so many “others” are so worried about life. Grave concerns about health and well being, employment woes, and violence against one another have become so commonplace that there seems no light at the end of the tunnel. Please trust Me, there is. I shine for all of you, now and forever. The anguish that you’re experiencing is due to unrecognized ignorance. You erroneously assume that you consist of flesh and bones and that so-called matter is the foundation of your world. Due to this, you believe that your body-mind is discrete and functions autonomously; it does not. Without Me, it is impossible for you to lift a finger. This is related in John 15:4: “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” Please remember that I and the Father am one.

To correct the situation, you must become aware of your essential nature. Here is Truth: You are only dreaming that you are “Art.” Although you and eight billion persons appear to be physical, such is only appearance. The Sanskrit term for this illusion is Maya. To understand this better, we may compare your so-called reality–right here and now–to last night’s dreams. Of what were they made but Consciousness? Why do you assume that the apparent reality of your world to be any different? When you awakened this morning, did you expect to discover any material remnants from your dreams? If so, where are they now? Could not the reality of this experience called Life on Earth–of walking and talking, of working and playing–also be made of Consciousness? Can you glimpse that to which I point?

You cannot possibly be who you think yourself to be; nor can you be separate from Me. You can, however, BE. The fear and negativity that accompanies the human perspective, which is founded in ignorance, does not belong to you. You are not a separate self destined for an earthly grave; you are spiritual sons and daughters of I Am That I Am. You are Awareness, Christ Consciousness, the Buddha, hidden by the dark cloak of physicality. Your body-mind and the world appear in Consciousness. Through Me, you are a co-creator of your world and circumstance. You are Spirit, eternal.

To recognize Truth, it is imperative that you become still and know that I am God. The I Am that is Me is the same I Am that is you and everyone and everything else that you perceive. In other words, you are I, and I Am you. Perception ‘is’ the world. Arise, dear Art; it’s time for you and your spiritual brothers and sisters to know “What” you actually Are. You cannot become enlightened ‘as‘ a person; but you can be freed from the erroneous belief that you are a person. It’s time that you awaken to the Light of your BEING.

Much love,

Grace (of God)

***

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

Think2wice

CONSCIOUSNESS, SPIRITUALITY, & LAW OF ATTRACTION

Category: God

“The Touch Of God”

A Tear From The Divine

Good Reason To Hate

Good Rumblings at “The Place”

All Knowers on Deck

Namaste-Not World Government

The Barcode Checker

The Exclusivity Bus

Bow Not To “The Megaphone”

An Email To Art

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