God said:
Dates are a form of time, and dates whiz by. How quickly dates accumulate. Dates are almost a mumbo-jumbo, no matter how orderly they may be seen.
As dates accumulate, they come to seem unreal. Once you were born on a certain date, and you became one year old. Now you may be fifty or sixty years old – or a hundred years old. The years that may have gone slowly, now fly by and seem like a flash in the pan. How unreal dates may seem now. Time ravaged the passage of your life. Where are the snows of yesteryear.
You may have a sense of having played cards with calendars of dates. Time seems so obtuse, a blip, some kind of fraction denoting what? Denoting something that now seems invisible and never was. All the joys, and all the sorrows – they no longer seem real. They never were but a sketch of wild imagination. Time was always fiction. It didn't exist. The Emperor's Clothes. It was mutually recognized with a wink as everyone gave homage to time, as if it were holy.
It is like a stew of your life was made of many ingredients. You recollect a few points, by no means, all. There is a sense that illusory time left you high and dry. Beloveds, time never was, yet time seemed to push you and pull you and spatter you to smithereens.
Your life lived itself as episodic and characterized this way or that. Some of your life you can't forget, and some of your life you can't remember. Your life may seem now like a faded picture book with pages missing. Everything was so important once. Now it all seems immaterial.
Once upon a time, this occasion and that occasion were of the utmost importance, and now this time that is all fluff and doesn't exist, has vanished. This is time's magic trick – time never existed – and now it fools you into believing that what never was has now disappeared, so say the soothsayers of the world.
What a play! What a drama! You could have been in third grade, and it was of such importance that you had to give a talk. What does this even mean now? Of course, you gave a talk to great applause or perhaps you bombed. Tell Me, dear ones, what does this have to do with anything now? What does it matter now that you were applauded or booed?
Where you spent your time was also an illusion because space is also trumped up. Of course, what difference does it make that both time and space are trumped up when, at the time, you believed in them with all your heart?
If a case against you in a court of law were trumped up, and you went to jail, what difference did it make to you that it was trumped up? Regardless, you sit in a fictional place called jail. To all intents and purposes, you spend time in jail. The time you are to spend there is called a sentence.
The reality of time is that there is no time. Nevertheless, you run around in it. You believe you do. You can't hold time back, and you can't catch up to it either. You dance to the tune of time as if you were in a movie theater watching a movie in one version or another. The movie is projected. For a while, for a non-existent while, you watch the movie called Life. It's a picture show, and you call it yours.
The real story on Earth is made of one component, and that is Love. Love is the One and Only Truth of Life. Love is something true and worth living for.
Love is Oneness, and that's the deal.
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