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Touching the Mystery
I am painting, and am deeply caught by the wonder of the roses; the roses are so red and beautiful against the bluest of skies. I am finished. I stand back and look at it. At first I am pleased and proud. But I become shocked and a little bit scared. How did I do this?
“The skill is far beyond what I can do.
I look at the roses, and feel them again. I had become
one with them. I see this, and I see how they desired
to express, and I became the tool of their creation, a
paintbrush only, within their soul, an expression of
their heart. It was in that moment I knew. I knew that
none of us are who we think we are. We believe we
are masters of our fate. It is our choices that move us
forward, but how often then, are we swayed by other
things which we bring to us? Are our lives only the
expression of something beyond? From something
other than our own will? Perhaps it is a bit like
giving birth, the child an unknown product of an…
