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Tom Kitt, click here
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Love is our name and energy is our game but we have forgotten and now the game is playing us.
A pixel was born to life. Every time it moved it found itself participating in endless fun; there were clowns, toys of all descriptions, fairies and delights of unimaginable beauty. Pixel was enchanted and continued to move thereby causing more and more wonders to manifest. Soon he realized that his playmates couldn’t see him because he was them. This gave pixel a sense of power and so he continued to create. Soon, he became so entranced that he lost his ability to switch the playground off when he finished playing. He began to forget and as the forgetting continued, his playmates abandoned him. He became lonely and as insecurity set in he sought out ways to be safe. He traveled within his loss, until the unrelenting pain finally forced him to remember and return to the playground.
He then realized that the play-world he so loved was an energy creation and that in the future he must always remember to come home after he had finished playing. He was saddened to know that playgrounds are sometimes watched by bad intentions that wait for an opportunity to kidnap any child that may wander off. Pixel was very relieved and happy to re-discover the playground and promised that from now on he would follow the rules for playing with energy and not give more power to it than he could easily take back.
Pixel became aware that during his period of forgetting he had become trapped in something not of his own choosing. He wondered about this and how the complete awareness of his own ability to create matter had nonetheless seduced him into a subservient position. It dawned on him that as long as he chose to play with energy he had to be aware of how energy plays. He was Power but energy was playing him by seducing him to give away his power. He began to think of energy as a separately aware entity that depended on him in order to ‘live’. He considered the bad intentions that sometimes loiter around children’s playgrounds and he wondered where they came from. He reasoned that because he alone had the ability to shut everything down according to his will, everything that flashed into creation when he chose to play was a result of his own continuing desire to create. He became responsible for the fact that all of creation was the child of his own imagination and began to understand an energetic construct that explains the environment.
He saw this construct in the form of an infinity loop. Within the loop he noticed endless smaller loops in a state of constant metamorphosis. He perceived himself and realized that he was the smallest loop of all, but that he too had a tendency to play with the dancing loops all around him. While he was playing with the dancing loops he noticed that others were filling spaces as he left them vacant. He saw the biggest loop of all and felt sad because he knew that it was a long way removed from the playground he now enjoyed. Still, he noticed that even this biggest loop was changing and entering into smaller loops to be replaced by other loops that also filled the vacated spaces. All were dancing, all was occurring within the boundaries of the largest loop. All were interactively changing position and this occurred from the largest to the smallest loop. All seemed to be same but in a state of confusion. He reasoned that all were indeed one and the same and that each loop was trying to come home to the state of power where there is no longer need for any loop at all.
Empty yourself into Love’s power.
“…the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things.”
Wally Lamb (I KNOW THIS MUCH IS TRUE. Published in 1998 by ReganBooks, an imprint of Harper Collins. Copyright 1998 by Wally Lamb)
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Reader Reviews for
"Pixel ...a story about playing"
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| Reviewed by Regis Auffray |
9/23/2008 |
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He reasoned that all were indeed one and the same and that each loop was trying to come home to the state of power where there is no longer need for any loop at all.
Fascinating insight, Tom. Thank you for sharing it. Love and peace,
Regis |
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