Looking on a forgiven world
You look out at the world before you and everything you see is…
No beef. With anything or anyone. (I know, crazy right? Stick with me here.)
Those people who cut you off in traffic, you actually slow down for and wave in.
The lady at work who’s constantly after your job is now someone you enthusiastically connect with on a genuine, human level — maybe even asking how her day’s going (it’s a stretch, I know).
As you stand in your dimly lit driveway at night before getting into your car — instead of looking around you in a state of paranoia, clutching your keys like a lethal weapon and planned your karate moves against the intruders that lurk in the shadows — what if, instead, you stopped, looked up at the moon, took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and opened your arms in loving embrace with the soft light that engulfed you?
Free from a world of projected guilt and imperfection.
Only when our world is forgiven can we experience the perfection that is the truth of the moment.
All that strife in yesterday’s world is now a small shadow that’s fading from the horizon. You only remember it enough to compare it against this perfect, forgiven moment.
The constant jumpiness is gone. The nervousness. The fear.
The gaze softens. The shoulders relax. The posture straightens. And the hands open.
Feel that wingspan?
Incredible, isn’t it?