Published on: Septembrie 20, 2012
The Earth revolves around the Sun. In the world, these revolutions are counted, yet the Earth itself and the Sun that shines do not count. The sun beholds the Earth but does not count its revolutions. The Sun is so full, what would it count, and what would be the point of it? The Sun knows its prominence in Eternity. Swept up in Eternity, what on earth would the Sun count? Nor does the Earth itself count, for the Earth is bigger than that.
And yet My children count and get caught up in details when there is Wholeness to get caught up in.
My children count sheep. They count on their fingers. Numbers are counted, and yet I say that the digits called fingers count more than the numbers that represent them. Numbers are interesting, yet counting is not all it purports to represent. And yet in the world, counting takes place, and counting has a prominence. How much money do you make? How many acres do you own? How many rooms in your house? How many trees? How many wives does a King have?
How do you count Vastness? Even in world terms, there is much that is uncountable. And yet My children count how many loves they have had when love is Oneness.
Cards are dealt and counted. Money is counted. There is some energy from dealing cards and counting money. There is some energy from the fingers that count. And yet love can not be counted, and love counts more than anything else.
We can say that love is the summit. It is the apex of life. Numbers are not. Oneness is.
Once measurement was made in hands. Hands want to touch. Counting is an abstract use of hands and fingers. Some measurements are even called feet. Hands and feet are extensions of your reach upon the world. You want to cover the world. Your body rides around the world, and you count the countries whose soil you have walked on.
You count kisses. You count friends. You count pages. Counting, like words, make you believe in an accepted plurality, when only Oneness is. The count is One. The final count is One because multiplicity does not really exist.
And, yet, there are ten fingers and ten toes and how many teeth? And yet there is one heart in your chest that beats, and Oneness alone is.
Along with counting comes accounting, as if everything has to be accounted for. There are people called accountants when there is really nothing to account for. Balances are sought, yet balance is something else than numbers on a sheet of paper, and there is no accounting for tastes.
How many words are there on a page?
The world is measured in cups and bottles, and numbers are written, and there is satisfaction in writing them. Steps are counted and become miles, all in the name of reaching and covering the Earth, finding out how near or how far.
There is genealogy and family trees that go back only so far, when all on Earth came from Me. I am your Beginning, if there were such a thing as beginning, but, of course, in Eternity there is simply Eternity and no segmentation to it.
Who counts numbers on his fingers, and what can be counted, and for what purpose, and who needs to know? A boxer is down on the count of ten, and ten makes a decimal and a decade. What do numbers signify? Pointing is closer to the truth than counting, yet all on Earth is illusion.
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