A Hundred Thousand Dreams

The word Dream in white on the dirt ground with red shoes belowThis Earth, all its birdsong, orchids, teacups, and toffee is already a living paradise.

Perhaps we incarnate to experience sheer joy.

For ourselves and for the Divine.

After all, God/dess cannot run through a field, play with a puppy, paddle in the sea, enjoy a foot rub, savour freshly picked broad beans or make love.

But we can.

And through us, God/dess feels the delight. We need to feel joy so the Divine can experience these treasures.

The world is meant to be beautiful. It is beautiful.

In the Celtic traditions the world has good and bad equally alike; where curses are blessings and the bitter pain gives life its piquant sweetness.

I cannot outline what heaven on Earth would look like; it is different for everyone. To assert my preferences would be to dash a hundred thousand dreams.

When we find paths and places, looking to bring the joy we wish to see into the world – it is then paradise appears, a rainbow of hues and tints beyond number. Painting the Earth bright. Streaming from our hopeful hearts.

What I can do is pray to be of service. To bring love, feel love and be loved. Tweet This.

What I can do is practice my yoga in the wild grasses, pick frosty kale, laugh and dive and run away to the seashore.

What I can do is savour elderflower wine and almonds, smell the breeze and give thanks for seasons.

What I can do is pray in the secret places of the forest, pick berries for my cakes.

And do all of it over and over again.

Gratefully.

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