When divine separation becomes sacred remembrance
A luminous being rises above a mirror pool beneath a celestial sky — a living symbol of divine separation transformed into sacred remembrance. The self, suspended between earth and heaven, remembers its origin in light.
In the beginning, God made us whole—and alone.
Solitude is not a curse.
By divine design, we are born as single beings —
ever since our cords were cut from our mother’s womb.
We enter the world marked by a hollow at our center —
a small opening, a quiet seal —
the emblem of our becoming.
For those who see this mark as a wound,
life becomes a continual search for attachment,
for structures of assurance and safety —
a return to what once was.
They live from need rather than knowing,
forgetting that the cut was never a cruelty,
but a consecration.
The hollow in our belly is not an absence,
but a symbol —
an invisible thread that still binds us
to the divine source from which we came.
It is a reminder
that love first dwelled within,
and that to walk this earth
is to carry that hidden tether forward,
paving the road of becoming
in faith and in silence.
We are born from connection,
but destined for communion with the self —
each of us a singular note
in God’s eternal song.
Those who tend to this emblem with reverence
learn that solitude is not loneliness,
but remembrance —
a return to the sacred gravity of being,
where the soul learns to love
inwardly, infinitely,
through the quiet music of God.
And from this knowing —
from this tender turning inward —
unfolds the next revelation:
the multitude of self-love and self-recognition in solitude.
Here begins the deeper journey —
where love, having been liberated,
now learns to bloom within.
Comments are closed