Jonathan Livingston Seagull

“They are saying in the Flock that if you are not the Son of the Great Gull Himself”, Fletcher told Jonathan one morning after Advanced Speed Practice, “then you are a thousand years ahead of your time.”
Jonathan sighed. The price of being misunderstood he thought. They call you devil or they call you god. “What do you think, Fletch? Are we ahead of our time?”
A long silence, “Well, this kind of flying has always been here to be learned by anyone who wanted to discover it; that’s got nothing to do with time. We’re ahead of the fashion, maybe. Ahead of the way that most gulls fly.”“That’s something,” Jonathan said, rolling to glide inverted for a while. “That’s not half as bad as being ahead of our time”.
Richard Bach
Jonathan Livingston Seagull

The Seagull Speaks Creative Commons Copyright


Creative Commons License
Original work on The Seagull Speaks by Michael A Wride is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Finding God In All Things




 http://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-God-things-Brian-Grogan/dp/187224548X/

...This is an account of an experience I had in January 2014...
 

"I'm in total, total bliss....in my whole body. Full body bliss from head to toe. I'm literally shaking with the intensity of it. I can hardly type. I am overcome with such deep feelings of love and connection. Now I know how sand feels when it is melted in the heat of a furnace to yield crystal clear glass. Perhaps to make a crystal bowl or a goblet from which to drink nectar. And I yield to the flames. I yield to the metamorphosis, the alchemy.
  
On the way in on the train, I was looking out at Dublin Bay. The crystal clear mill-pond-still-waters. The Stena-Line ferry floating along the surface towards her port, gliding with grace and ease. What a difference to last week's tremendous storms.

And then an older silver-haired gentleman gets on the train and sits diagonally opposite me, across the aisle. He takes out a small scarlet-covered booklet. Is this blood red cover a reflection of the fire at the heart of the furnace I am at the centre of?

And the title of the book? "Finding God In All Things".... My God! My God!... In All Things.

For the first time perhaps, I really get it, I really see Him, I really feel Him. Tears come again. Release of pent-up emotions. Water flowing from my eyes down my cheeks like streams. But, no chance of quenching this fire inside the furnace....


Thank God!
My God!
In All Things!

.....including me :) "




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