Heart wisdom

            My sister Bess and I went to our music directors house yesterday, figuring out stuff for our program. Our director had a black and white picture on the wall of a native American Indian with a feather headdress.

She said that they make mistakes in the painting, on purpose. She wanted to know if we could see the flaw.

Bess found it on the top. A line______--- like this was missing. Or something like that.

I went and looked up the reasons why.

And it seems to be a normal thing in a lot of cultures. To add a mistake.

To make sure that part of their consciousness isn’t trapped in the painting, or the weaving or whatever it is.

Because Only God is perfect.

And it comforted me a bit.

Because it seems, I feel very much like a little line, that never got quite finished.

So when I do things, it always feels like a smooth line, and then all of a sudden….

No atter how hard I try.

And maybe,

As I ponder this.

Maybe God is painting me on purpose. The way I am.

With a little glitch to let me know….that this also is not who I am. And to let others know that too.

A word, a painting, a recipe.

A little flaw on purpose.

I like to think the on purpose part.

So it feels official. Like this was in the weaving the whole time.

A point of grace so we can let out the darkness, and let in the light. So we can let ourselves out from our own weavings. A door.

To say, how perfectly imperfect we all are.

And so, however we dance…..

We are not trapped here in this painting.

The imperfections are an exit.

A little door out.

Back to the place that created us.

And maybe, just maybe, I was supposed to see this painting.

All the things I feel so flawed at.

Are merely exit points.

A break in the line to say, “you don’t have to be trapped in this form. For it too, isn’t the real truth.”

For the real truth goes beyond the forms.

Lines, and dots.

And to be an opening for God to shine through.

If God is the painter.

I humbly bow, and though I may not see the whole painting.

I do know.

That at some point, when we accept the flawed bits.

We free ourselves and others from the forms we create.

And when we love the broken lines.

We are able to see the bigger picture.

If the creator of this ultimate painting, put a flaw in the painting, on purpose.

A mistake.

With intent.

Then the only mistake we make is judging these things.

These points, cracks in the painting where light can shine through.

Where the darkness of ignorance can leave the picture, once you accept the flaw.

And so, I say thank you for the picture.

And know, that as I give myself the gift of my own seeing.

Even though, it can be very difficult. To accept the broken lines of your own life, and how you show up. When your voice cracks, or your heart cries. Or when the rules of existing are so great, that no one else is able to see that we all have these flaws painted into us.

On purpose.

Some grand designer.

Made it so.

And incomplete mirror, until we have the whole picture, inside, and outside, all reflecting---the kingdom, the light, the living spirit, the truth of our being echoed out into the darkness, until it starts to reflect light back. 

And we see, so clearly, our light stays lit, always. Sustained from a living well deep inside.

And free each other by our broken lines, by connecting them to the wholeness, by our seeing, so that no one would be stuck in their own little isolated painting, if they wish for a better view.

So that someday, when we had a good enough view, and accepted these flaws.

We could return to a greater seeing. Beyond the swollen eyelids.

To see with our inner vision, a grander view.

So more light could come through.

To a greater knowing.

The view, a weaving, a piece of the puzzle.

Completed.

 And all broken lines are made whole.

Close up. One small dot or squiggle.

But when your view takes on greater scope.

The weaving.

The seeing.

All merges into one painting, a painting that connects all paintings.