I read a lot this weekend about Sufi philosophy and historical context. Very interesting. I have a lot to share in terms of what I learned. There is a whole tradition of human spiritual growth and higher learning, if you will, that has always existed but can’t accurately be communicated in language. Nothing is new. Should I write at all?

I sat down for a moment to meditate. What was I writing for? To who and what should I say? What is all this sharing about? Do I need to share my steps?

I asked to talk to the highest level of consciousness available to me. All the words I got back were “love, love, love.” I sat there, kind of annoyed. The question I got back was “what’s your problem? Give us a clear problem.” I could feel this anxiety, a bit pissed off, but I couldn’t articulate a single clear problem. So, the power comes back with “love, love, love.” So, feeling anxious, I do my pity thing and say “I’d rather be loved than be Love” Well, my higher self doesn’t even engage in a pity discussion. Silence means grow up and come back later.

So, I know I’m being dumb. Why would I want loved, the past tense, instead of Love, the living verb? But, shit, I want something out of the deal; this higher-self stuff takes a lot of energy to maintain. So, I say give me my images. I want my images. And it gives me these two. I didn’t meditate long. I got up and figured I’d jot the images down. And when I did, I laughed because they look like lamps.

The Universe has an excellent sense of humor. And if you don’t, you your not on your “way.” I can provide footnotes to support my perspective, but what does it matter? Perhaps the Universe wants me to start a “Be the Light” line of t-shirts. Now on my hard drive as vector graphics. Life is a playground.