“Bright” Spot/Saying of the day (in slightly more serious but no less important light):

–         Watch the Matrix trilogy repeatedly then meditate with an open and newly awoken mind on the following:


Yesterday almost has to be a terrible failure for tomorrow to be an ultimate success.  The present is a transition, albeit a painful one, between the two periods of time.  Without this dichotomy of time, any true growth, progression, or evolution would be lost.  Suffice it to say perfunctorily, the pain would be too; however, the individual in question has to take the bad to get to the good.  He or she can’t go up unless there is somewhere to ascend to.  This is the perfect nature of imperfection.  So, the most fundamental truths are often expressed incorrectly because we misunderstand our purpose and our inherent sense of degradation.  We blame God because we think he is not at work, doesn’t care, or is inept; when, in fact, He is just misperceived this way, especially when we are down.  We are the ones who are imperfect and we project this imperfect nature on to a God we don’t and can’t truthfully understand.  (This is not, as I once contended, inductive logic.  It is false reasoning.)  Sadly, these misperceptions and projections come to be defined as truth by a misguided society and community of minds within a misguided society that is basically trying to usurp the power of the Almighty, most likely, I hope, unwittingly (Just look at the story of the Tower of Babel).  We do this as a society because we have nothing to stop us in a physical, tangible sense; God has granted us perfect freedom which by its nature allows imperfection.  This imperfection gives us a perfect sense of purpose.  Thus, the nature of work is just that – natural so that we have something to do.  A better more apt, more productive definition of God’s perfection in relation to human suffering would be the following:

God’s version of perfection is the freedom to grow; perfection is the allowing of hate so love can bloom properly.  So, of course it is going to hurt – gloriously, might I add.  The rose of love has many thorns…


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