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The Garden

It is not I who planted the seed of remembering, yet it was I who created the seeds of forgetting.

I choose which seed to water.


It is not I who gardens or tills the soil, it is done by my intention and which gardener is called forth.


I call forth the Master Gardener and not the one of convenience to work the clay of habit into the fertile soil of awakening.


It is not I who pulls the weeds out by the roots or shines the sun on the strong seed long obscured by the weeds of anger, fear, doubt, greed, and envy.


I get to watch the seed flower and fruit and the weeds whither as the Master Gardener does Its work.


As I watch it in me, I witness it in you, for the mirror of my awakening lies in the reflection of my brothers and sisters. My garden is your garden, the seed planted in me by Creator is the same seed planted in you.


The seed can never be obliterated through the eons of forgetting, no matter the virility and height of the weeds that crowd it close to the clay of ego.


For when I call forth the Master Gardener to work the soil of my soul, then room is made for the seed to grow.


The tilling of the clay into soil and the eradication of the weeds by the roots is a slow and tender process. The roots are pulled in such a way so as to remove even the deepest, most terrifying part of its unconscious beginnings.


Slowly, day by day, the light shines more and more upon the eternal seed.


I water it by remembering.


I bless it by forgiving the weeds that erroneously thought it to be protecting it from the misperception of a punishing light.


As the seed reveals its indestructibility, I see the world for what it is and welcome the Garden beyond it.


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