15 October

Yet another chapter to life’s great mystery is to be written, as best it can, despite the long, drawn out presence of yesterday, of history. And arduous is the task of recording truths so bare, of attempting to explain the unexplainable with flair.

Oftentimes the words themselves may disappoint, or fall short of literary excellence; as well they might. But this is not a problem, except to a scholarly mind who cannot look beyond the illusion of daily life to find the essence of the message, the rhythm of the song, the energy with which the words, combined, make manifest a higher understanding of self confessed.

Some day, in the not too distant future, we will find a keener sense of what is real, and this will serve to demonstrate the love and light of all with zeal. And our understanding of the will-to-good will manifest, such that progress forward will be made exponentially.

Until that day arrives we must make do with what we have, instruments of coarser materials, and tools of trade outdated. And a small measure of one’s imagination needs to be employed if one is to gain the fullest measure of that deployed.

This is why we must endeavour to clear our vessels well, and dispose of baggage old so that we may improve, as best we can, our transmissions to and from the source.

So forgive the crude and ordinary, sift out what you must, but in the process ensure that what is left is well imbued, distilled in purity to help you on your way to fight another silent battle with your shadow self today.