A little story about people hoarding God,constricting God into slots and judgements, etching out this from that, forgetting the colours, old broken down story of propaganda and the masses. so our tools are their tools we need to etch out thoughts of others to a point that we can understand and feel our relationship to the one God who is many. There then is no doubt that we all are mystics when we are connected to that Force that dances before our thoughts were formed.
But most of the time we are handed God. God crammed into a book, or a story or a stone
so we carry God around like a sack of rocks. weapons to bury
God is not small God is infinity
ungraspable, yet going the other way, God is infinite in the information of one molecule. Infinite in all directions, Instead of listening inside our heart, we carry God around like a sack of rocks.
