Why Either Were You Ignorant To See't, Or, Seeing It, Of Such Childish Friendliness To Yield Your Voices?

Life flows by the center, or it seems to; it only ever did. This is that ever. The person it all seems to happen to, perhaps constructed so lovingly, or perhaps wrought in a furnace of anger and fear and hot confusion, that person, that construct, that conditioning, can slip away - or seem to - and be embraced and accepted and loved. Whoever you are, however you are understood, whatever poignancies arise for the person it all seems to effect and that affects others; wherever you are in your story, however inadequate the construct seems, or however powerful and in charge of it all you seem to be - you are perfect, complete and whole, just as you are. And although there is no formula, no road map, no proscribed handbook detailing How To Live the Perfect Life or How to Be the Perfect Human, there is this: compassion. Gentleness. What can arise is not judging yourself - your character - and others for being human. This isn't the goal, but when there is no one, or the self that seems to operate in the world is not so despotic, then a sense of compassion often seems to arise. "It's all about love:" so many non-duality writers are fond of this pointer. In fact, it's all love. All of life, the cosmos, our friends and family, war torn nations afar or in our back yard, rage and murderous anger, irrational self-righteousness, fear and its destructive, protective actions - all of it - is love manifest. You are that love. Completely, flawlessly, despite apparent flaws. The movement of life flows by, in perfection; you never move or change, and you are the apparent flow. When this is seen, compassion is likely, in any story that seems to unfold.