Corruptible bodies notwithstanding, the point of earth-universe pervades in noncontingent, all-inclusive awareness. It admits all condition: the context from which all knowing becomes intimate, epitomizing love. We know each house of each body as we know each mansion of the heavenly divineography to which our spirit flows, and in knowing all of that judge it not estranged or foreign, but as the living heart of one and all.

This mystic apprehension oversees synchronicity and the seeming miraculous, but it is nothing more than a recollection in the cupboard of old spacetime; the essence of it assumed in eternal consciousness. We are always opportuned, all centered in the circle. Isolation is therefore illusion: the paradigm from which old spacetime came to manifest emotional content. Emotions no longer dramatize conflict or project ideation onto others, but instead become feeling for truth and intelligence of divine love, linking emptiness and fullness as the spectrum of experience and the tableau of being.

At this moment we are enjoying the nostalgia of our future. Dimensionless as we are, we continue to cherish the worlds where we drew first breath, and over my shoulder I see myself as the sun and the shadows into which I step the One returns as many.