Your logo emblazons TERFIA: The Entire Reason For It All, which is the omni-jailbreak. That’s the One bringing you the wherewithal to enjoy life. Instead of just sitting around as a lazy bum in a jail made of omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence, the One puts together a jalopy that can go places and generate joy in the ride—even down here in the fallen estate. Of course, anyone building a car out of spruced up spare parts is likely to incur some collateral damage. So the One is willing to indulge murder, rape, pillage, torture, the whole gamut of nastiness (and, dare I stoop to mention, even the U.S Congress) for the opportunity to crack a smile. Yes, Elvis, there IS a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on. Every moment, TERFIA is having its day in your court. The games are on, and they’re not the kind you can just switch off with a TV remote or a remote, dullard consciousness.
Boredom arises only when you are not able to resonate with TERFIA (or, rather, when you choose not to). Taking it upon yourself to ignore the wholeness of the shebang, to exert your power to slap infinity right into a straightjacket, is a big deal. No scant, flickering will-o-the-wisp, it’s more akin to Atlas on a sit-down strike. So, it doesn’t seem out of place to raise a concept like mere boredom to the level of cardinal sin. Willful ignorance thwarting Life in and as the One has to be right up there with the worst of them.
The One ensconces universes without end. They bloom as the One’s creative, image-refining Artistry that its agents assume. Standing behind mysterious Life empowering All, right here in the manifest arena, nirvana’s snooze awakens as joy busting out all over. That exploding, yet God-Controlled light proliferates the One’s Presence like a bunny, just to let Bugs ask, “What’s up, Doc?” That’s right: the BIG question is corollary to TERFIA. Living alchemy boundlessly employs the One’s priceless opportunity to NOT-know. To Really Live is to experience mystery’s urging to seek, to find, and generate yet greater questions out of the answers.
I often think of my eighth-grade math teacher telling me that the more he learns, the more he realizes he doesn’t know. Every new Self realization births and opens upon a far-off world. Such encapsulated, awakened awe resuscitates Brahma’s breath out of infinite mystery’s opportunistic panoply.
Yes, yes, yes. Each infinite, learning moment invigorates a daily Word emphasizing its reader’s ultimate meaning. Thus, it behooves each aspiring agent of the One to pay out their attention as an anchoring Lifeline to their final Truth. End-all, be-all Self realization awakens imminently, momentarily, as omnipresently proliferating Beauty. How, then, can boredom’s somnambulistic muttering of the Word be aught but a sorry, sorry state? To mope around, having no interest in anything, is certainly an option. But, Truth’s claxon sounds: assuming a moment’s suicide axes the One’s own raison d’être. And that means you Bubba.
Picture this: magnificent opportunity abounding. Along comes a primary focus of the One’s consciousness—some body, thing or other. Instead of embracing light’s zooming therein with heart’s ALL, you let boredom’s boulders and sludge impede. Ignorant glut blocks the tunnels and highways of mystery’s I AM THAT I AM omni-jailbreak. Your unfazed lackluster claps Life’s spiraling ascension into that moment’s straightjacketed, mechanized firmament. I leave you with this downer image because it’s up to You to find the inner strength to rise up, to ignore boredom’s ignorance. You are infinite mystery’s own do it yourSelf project.