Listen

Do you hear the whispers?

Deep down, far away, hidden in the corners, the recesses, the dark corners of your soul. Only when we quiet down, when we open up our hearts and our ears can we hear that sound, the effervescent voice whispering, whispering. Saying something we can hardly make out.

Through our whole lives, we walk like zombies, ignoring the sound that rages inside of us. We think we are cut off from the vibrations of the universe, the world beyond and within. We think we are humans of flesh and blood. We live in a world of how and no why, a world where to examine equals to measure.

And so we miss the whispers.

But we’ve had our moments. The moment when the zombie discovers the life that still beats in him, and he starts listening, opening up the door to his soul, pulling away the peel to reveal the hidden fruit.

The place of whispers. Where inside of us all, there is a voice, lips, a tongue, saying something. Over and over he repeats the same thing, but every time in a new way.

Look at that voice in the face, hear those lips move, and you’ll see a mirror. A vision of the true you, the distilled, pure, single-malt, G-dly soul.

Wake up, zombie. Get out of your stupor and listen to those whispers, they have something to tell you. You ain’t no flesh and blood, you are a pure light, flowing straight from the mouth of G-d, waiting to break free and light up this stinkin’ world.

And that’s just the beginning, woken-zombie-light-man/woman. Access to the light is one thing. Seeing what it has to show you is another.

Look closer… look deeper. Hear, listen, smell, taste, touch. Allow the divine energy to flow within you and you’ll start to see what you thought was only in you. And you’ll see it everywhere. The whispers. The voice. Flying, floating, dipping, digging, everywhere around you.

What, you thought G-d only speaks to you, zombie-boy? Don’t be silly. The whole world is lit up with those words, that voice of fire, sparking everything it happens to mutter about. From poop to planes. All is G-d’s voice, constantly uttered, divinely shared, drawn from his very essence and down, down, down, into this seeming garbage heap of a world.

Listen. Listen all around you. The voice is there. Whispering quietly. Waiting for us to hear it. But the moment we do, when we finally decide to shed our zombie costume, we know, and will always know, that this voice is no faint whisper. It’s a raging waterfall, deafening to the eyes. Blinding to the ears. And the only real thing in the entire created universe.