Is a word a message from the soul? Is it divine or just a meaningless jabber from the recesses of our minds? Are words meant to serve a purpose, grand and verbose? Are words here to soothe us, comforts us, harm another, and penetrate ignorance? What if we did not have words to rely on, how do you think we would communicate with each other? I am honest. I believe in using words to convey a truth so as to be clear and true with the people in my life. But am I convincing myself of a reality? It there a greater or deeper truth which I cannot access or deliver through a conversation containing so many words?

Words are art. We perceive them in fiction novels and poetry describing scenes from characters or emotions from our inner beings. Words are a tool. Words are a currency on which our society relies. I am using words here today for a purpose. I wish to express my inner truth. You choose to read these words and have an experience. Words are like colors in a painting, spices in a batch of cookies, notes in a song. Words are an ingredient that helps us achieve a greater truth. Words are heavily present in our every day, either intense in their presence or in their lack thereof to communicate with fellow human beings. My question is what is said in the spaces between words, the gaps where words just cannot reach? Everything has limits, and our language does not escape this rule. Miracles happen and these, experienced on the visceral, in a moment indescribable, cannot be touched by something as steady and coherent as our words, the fundamental ingredient to our communication. I believe that it is important to realize and understand that there are times when we as humans cannot even attempt to reach the possibility of using our basic tactile ingredients of communication to convey what is truly possible in this universe. There are many planes, many minds, and many means of comprehension. We try to keep a tight grip on reality, but no matter how hard we wish to control, there will always exist something that just does not make sense. Who are we fooling? I am not the creator of this universe, and though life tempts me to, I do not attain to control it. I have learned through experiencing the chaos that exists in life, that there is order in the universe, and my role in creating this order is inconsequential. Bless the chaos and its infinite order. I surrender to the power, I surrender to the source. May my words cascade down the waterfall of creation, perhaps to accent, but not contain the mysteries therein.

Infinite Space