By Scott Ufford

I almost feel too human, these head-spinning days.
Don’t you, too?
Too clumsy. Too confused. Just too busy?

I feel spun-around by Time as it blasts past face-first in endless orgies of self-birth. Self-love. Self-abandonment. Without even muttering an apology!

But sometimes a discovery slaps me out of this helpless self-hypnosis.
Make me remember to take a deeper breath. Lets me sigh with surprised relief, and lets me enjoy it.

Breakthrough usually comes during those rare rests when I watch the night stars cartwheel like glistening gymnasts in the waters of The Invisible.

That’s what I call everything the stars are dancing in, but we can’t see:
The Invisible.

When I do this, sometimes something really ancient stirs in my heart.
As if I can almost remember who I really am, back before…

Back before It happened.
Yes, back before I,
just like you,

crash-landed down here on Earth.

Because…

Once I was a galaxy-cavorting bird on the wing–but now I’m flightless and Earth-bound with club feet for a soul:

And with every loud crunch of my boots over the vast tundra of my karma:

I’ve unblinkingly observed and suffered, for too many centuries, the strange limits of a planet that loves to splash cold proof of my blindness in my face.

I’ve had many lives to meditate on our human miseries. On our mysteries. And, on the Arctic Ocean of difference between our labored little breaths and the free-swirling dance of Worlds aloft in The Invisible:

Here’s my little discovery:

In the extravagant splurge of these great Universes, each with their own one sparkling predominant feature:

In their clearest reality:

There is no “before”.
There is no “after”.
There is only the immense creative ongoing reality of Right Now.

Surprising moment!
It’s holographically imprinted in the waves
of the waters
of the ever-increasing,
ever-radiant,
ever-reflective,
ever-reasonable,
ever-resonant,
ever-exciting,
ever-creating
multiplicity of Universes swimming in The Invisible Right Now!

From their highest crests to their deepest undertows,
from their most indescribably tiny splashing moments, causes, effects, circulations of intensity and intention and rippling results:

Each and every single growing second of every Universe’s existence can not be subdivided.
Cannot be infinitely fractioned out of unity with the wave of itself.
Cannot be drained away from its mighty curving fractals of
evolution of
infinite
divine
Unbreakable Moments
rising up like this one!

Cannot be made less than itself.
Cannot be sluiced out of its own heart, and be called separate.
Because, it is holy.
And it is awake.
And it is One.

Yes. This is correct.

Welcome to No-Time. You can never run out of No-Time.

Any time when you’re too busy scurrying around down here on Earth and you do frantically run out of Time, just remember:

You, too, can reach up into the skies of The Invisible, swimming in your heart and over your head.

You, too, can drink a great refreshing pitcher of No-Time, and feel release, once again.
For a short while. Or for longer.

Now that I’ve tasted it, I want to discover the secret powers and pleasures of No-Time.

Don’t you?

Copyright 2010 Scott Ufford