A Sea of . . .

After a few days of welcome warm weather, NYC is suddenly back to chilly and rainy spring days, and so there's a noticeable increase in sniffling and sneezing. This morning while reading on the subway, one such unfortunate sitting next to me began blowing her nose into a tissue with such an abundance of sound effects that indicated mass quantities of . . . well, I was just totally grossed out, please don't make me go into details. I had been silently chatting with Tim while reading, and he must have noticed the oo-ick-yuck shivers going up and down my spine, and asked me what was going on. I explained but he could not understand what I was trying to say, and was clearly puzzled by it. It only took a quick minute for me to realize that Tim has truly lost all memory and concept of what it's like to have a terrestrial human body with all it's weaknesses and messiness. The idea of stuff coming out his nose (or elsewhere) simply makes no sense or has any place in his Risen manifestation.

From this, it might be a little easier to understand those experiences reported by others who have had communications with those in spirit -- where their Risen loved ones often seem uncaring or even cold about our upsets and mishaps, even the major ones. A Risen One's focus is always in the eternal present, and from a place of existence that has no physical illness, and all emotional and mental worries (should they ever arise) are instantly washed away by the tide of their eternal presence of divine self-awareness. They are not experiencing their lives in terms of loss, as we so often do, but as a never-ending abundance of positivity. It's not that they don't care, but they can see so much more than we can, that our trials and tribulations are infinitesimal compared to where they are and we will eventually be. Our focus would be better aimed on the infinite cosmic ocean toward which we are sailing, rather than the little raft on which we often feel so abandoned.

Even if it is on a sea of snot.