To a rock, a tree, a building – do we not seem to be flickers of light? Moving at a speed beyond their comprehension, appearing and disappearing so very quickly. We are born and we die before the boulders on the hills finish a breath. Their slow-moving flames are visible to us, though, and can warm our hearts.
Wheeling backwards from the web, understanding fails us. The sparkling effervescence of all lives in this place is a single flash of light to our planet and sun. We cannot comprehend the embrace and communion of such interstellar friends. We cannot see their flames, but we can warm our hearts by them too.
In mindfulness, we can warm our hearts with the fires of those who move faster than us. Most of our animal companions are with us for a decade. Our gardens blossom and subside in just a year. If we speed too rapidly toward the horizon, we miss those flickers of light. But we can choose to slow down and move with our breath. If we do, these lights burst into our chests.
The wondrous, miraculous display of infinite orbs of light slowly spiraling upward in the darkness is visible to our hearts. All this storm is but a single heartbeat of the Beloved. Sitting, feeling the planet curve away under you, feeling her hug you to her chest as she spins and tumbles through the outer darkness… you can look outward and see some small part of the luminous sea of love.
There are tiny flickers of light all around you too, flashing and sparkling in your spirit, in the world, everywhere. We are as a rock or a tree to them, they are born and they die before we finish a breath. And surely, they too have their flickers, and we are as a planet or sun to those. The web is fractal, and no matter whether we wheel backwards or in for a closer look, there are these fireworks.
We are breath and we are light. We are all the worlds, and all the worlds are in us. There is no bottom or top, no beginning or end. The endlessly shifting forms of love appear everywhere, at all times.