The experiences are so countless and varied, that the journey seems to be endless and the goal unattainable. But the wonder of it all is that, when you finally reach your destination, you discover that you have never traveled at all! That it was all a journey from here to here.

(Meher Baba)

It dawned as usual. Everything lit up. Life began and dreams blossomed at my fingertips. Every day each one of us invents the world anew, with all its bittersweet. The most remote news comes from within. Abysses, volcanoes, stories, romances, wars, and encounters. Each space peeks out and at the same time hides. Fears lurk like felines. Every desire, awaiting satisfaction, in our scripted role.

This life, sister, and brother. This persistence in defining or denying oneself, forgetting everything else. The skein has entangled us with so many colors, flavors, and shapes, with so many textures of opinion. So, each one of us sings his/her own song from the branch where one rests, in unique rhythms and tunes. But we all really are echoes of an infinite concert, bouncing off the walls of forms. The perpetual music of life, the tragicomedy in multitude, is nothing but the expression of a serene moment of silence, looking in the mirror of itself, to know the fullness of love.

Stars are wonderful for a stroll. When one walks on them, they feel warm and granular, like sand on a universal seashore. Our feet absorb their silvery light, which then circulates within us in wonderful dawns. And there are so many of them, that one never gets tired of choosing the galactic paths that we ecstatically travel. What beautiful nights are those, when we walk the stars, and their music of light is absorbed through the skin of our feet!

There is always a magical sense of wonder that surrounds us every day, a premonition of something very close, but indefinite, that exists in another sphere, that sometimes is projected very subtly to us. Omens of a deep love, memories of fullness lived, embraces given to the most sublime, hopes of seeing the universe which is insinuating itself.

Sometimes, smiles arise within, and appear for a moment in our minds, like a gentle grace, even if they do not stay, and we continue to be trapped in this strange interface of us. But we do get to feel the fragrance of the love that always surrounds us, and our soul somehow knows and welcomes it.

A soft music of beauty, of each moment of love experienced, passes through memory then, in multiple scenes, in procession. Moments of blissful nostalgia, in indescribable nuances. Hugs then have more meaning than words. And all claims of ownership, be them of things, ideas, moods, flower arrangements, kisses, and torments, become gradually replaced by the magical atmosphere that is felt. A sweet company, disguised as a breeze, is experienced within. Silent of voice and image, like a loving embrace.

The procession of life becomes endless and beautiful, in faces, laughter, tears, and all kinds of pure and intermingled emotions. There are many moments in this dance!

Yet sometimes, there is just now. Where the present accumulates and floods yesterday and the future. Where watches have no hands, and there is no movement or expansion. Everything is a sea of always, and the center and edges of the universe come together. The infinitesimal confines, the bricks, and glues of atoms, all become a single point. All vibration is frozen, dragonflies and molecules lie still; expressionless—their wings and oscillations, stiff, in static formation. The now is always. Historians are unemployed, fortune tellers and psychics are desperate because everything is the same timeless time. Yes, sometimes everything is now.

So yesterday I lived in the future, and remembered today, and tomorrow. Nothing had happened, there were no memories, no history. Confused in the absence of time, everything was just a moment of silence, alone. No history, no memories to retell. No dreams, no events to anticipate. In that freeze of happening only everything existed. And that everything was nothing, which spilled out nowhere, like a breathless sigh without time.

I've been walking for days heart in hand, and I don't know why. Suddenly a sensation comes to my chest, like a painless tear, a saddened joy, or a joyful sadness, an anticipated nostalgia. I tremble with gratitude for everything and shudder for nothing. Moments are filled with dreams, and I forgive myself inside, understanding everything, without understanding anything.

Yes, I've been walking around heart in hand, and I don't know why. Continuously being crisscrossed by neutrinos and cosmic rays, born since the beginning of time. They fall on me, and harass me with rage, like piranhas do with their prey. They explode in words, memories, thoughts, and history, which make me feel both ephemeral and eternal. I hold tight, as the intergalactic winds blow the breath of the universe, through my body and mind. My arms gesticulating embraces; searching, dreaming, loving.

Meanwhile, you show up in the strangest of places, which I was told as a child that you never frequented. You peek into the eyes of others and wink at me, letting me know that you are there, and I lose the thread of my conversation with them. You are always hovering around, with that inexplicable love, even when I hide. You pull me out from within myself.

And little by little, things gather in a bouquet, like roses. Cosmic grains get tired of accelerating and jumping in space. And they slowly grow closer. They gather in bubble rounds, making walls and tribes of foam. Until they appreciate themselves and what is around them. Until they make consciousness a love song.

And I wonder where is that love. The one born in the hands of Francis, who heals wolves and sheep. The one that spilt on Teresa's frets and peeks out in the words of Rumi and Hafiz. That love that caresses souls, that drives one crazy, while at the same time soothes and calms. That fiery water.

Is not in words, or observances of believers. It is in burning eyes, on lips made ragged by kisses, in longings for longings, in sleeplessness. It is not in book interpretations or wise conversations, or vows of chastity or faith.

It appears as sudden madness, which floods and drowns the mind. I know it exists, I felt the echoes of its footfall, and I have seen its trail. I have made efforts and said prayers to reach it, but it is still hidden. And to live, without what one does not know, but feels is everything, is not living.

So, I continue to be trapped in this multitudinous cellular thinking hive, forming silhouettes in space-time. Cloistered in this wonderful temple of body, composed of small watery sacs, assembled by bouquets of molecular flowers, and changing patterns of energy, which create smiles, kisses, and life.

Trapped in this house of mirrors and echoes. Where reflections multiply in thought, memories, definitions, and opinions. Programmed at birth by culture, history, prejudices, vices, aspirations, and joys. Circumscribed in trajectories, dreams, and nightmares to the scenarios of life.

Trapped also in ancient currents of life, which go beyond culture and ethnicity, in biological imperatives of evolution, where consciousness was still developing, until it was ready to see its reflection in the house of mirrors. Finally, generating thought and self-reflection, after myriads of trials between curiosity and environment, manifesting the latent potential of consciousness.

Yes, we are trapped in cosmological imperatives of origin, driven by excited and rowdy particles, bouncing off each other making atoms, molecules, and galaxies. We are passionately seeking to see and know ourselves eventually.

But who is it that is trapped in this hive, in this house of mirrors? In these imperatives of evolution? Who is woven into this tapestry of information? Who is threaded by DNA, karmic bonds, and relationships, between atoms, neutrinos, and all kinds of particles, manifesting in a space/time continuum this being, having a conscious condition?

Sometimes in captivity, we feel a moment of freedom, an instantaneous awakening and for a jiffy we are absent of any definition, beyond the juxtaposition of you and me. Alone, but in wholeness, beyond the hive, beyond the house of mirrors, beyond the ancient evolutionary impulses that distil this essence of total freedom. In the solitude of one. A fullness that looks like nothing and needs nothing. Beyond time, space, thought and definition.

Yes, we are trapped in these dreams, but sometimes briefly we wake up and feel a sense of deep love, which spills over all instants of being. And making that moment permanent seems to be the goal of the dream, the cosmological impulse, the purpose, of mirrors and their reflections, and the extremes of ambivalent duality. And if that is our final destination, then it is worth being trapped, in this wonderful complex hive, in these reflections in the house of mirrors, in being instinctive and distinct.

Out of a timeless flash, time and space came to bring forth a consciousness of being forever. An impulse of love so infinite, that it makes everything come out of nothing, to make oneness be sought and found, as the essence of love.

Yes, we are trapped in a glorious imaginary prison, in a never-ending story with a happy ending. Trapped and grateful.

We pretend to be separated into multitudes, where everyone plays an assigned role. Convinced that we are the performance. That is the plot of this great creation directed, produced, acted, and choreographed by the very same Existence. And the show must go on!

So, let's forgive our atoms and sins, and all the sinuous creatures inside. Let's continue playing this divine game until we realize that we don't even have a name. And if things, in our corner of the stage, get too intense, even maybe a little wild (and you know what I mean...), let’s at least for an instant or two be inspired (while still playing our part). And remember it is a game we play for the One. And smile, brother, sister, smile inside. So that a breath of fragrance floods the theatre, a sense of beauty shines through, as you and I realize, even for a second, that we are so much more than you, me, and mine. And realize the magic of life!