I AM A VISITOR ON EARTH

 I AM A VISITOR ON EARTH

I am a visitor.  I am visiting earth.  The vehicle I am using came out of the earth, but I didn’t.  I am a portion of the universal mind in a body.  When this body goes back into the earth, I’ll no longer be bound within it.  

The sum of many little things are part of, and make up, one thing, therefore “I” (one little thing) make up and am part of one bigger thing–life itself.

At a funeral we say goodbye to the vehicle.  Perhaps we are also saying goodbye to a portion of the universal mind.  However, we make a big deal out of saying goodbye to the vehicle.

(Why the vehicle, which came out of the earth, makes such a mess on the earth is rather strange since the vehicle is part of the earth.  Why do we do that?  Why do we not honor the earth more?).  

I am practicing leaving my temporary vehicle.  It’s like walking out of my house and going back in.  I walk out of the door and back in through the door, over and over again.  I make sure not to shut and lock the door.  If I do that I won’t be able to get back in, so I keep it open.  I can’t do it for long but it works for short time.

When I am out, I am no longer bound by the limitations of my temporary house, or vehicle.  I can do whatever I imagine or think.  I am liberated from the constraints of the house.

When I am in my house/vehicle, I now watch it like I am outside it.  It’s a strange way of watching it.  I watch it typing, drinking coffee, smoking, sitting in the sunshine watching traffic.  I can watch it from behind it, to left, right, or look at it square in the face, and yet I am in it.  I can even move across the room and sit in a different chair than it is sitting in and watch it.  I can even fly away from it and still observe it sitting there.  Very strange.

As I watch it I almost consider it a stranger even though it has been my house for seventy-six years.  I know it pretty good having lived in it.  And yet, this house is an individual.  It has a mind and a life of its own.  It does what it does for its joy, pleasure, and entertainment, plus it does what it needs to do to survive.

I’ve even watched my vehicles funeral.  I walked out my vehicle for the last time.  I see no details of its demise, but I am aware of family and friends thinking about me.

I look at them.  I appreciate them for being part of my vehicle’s life, but I am not attached to their vehicles.  After all, they too are just in temporary vehicles.  Without their vehicles, they and I are one life, or rather, life itself.

When I am out of my vehicle’s form, I can enter any form I choose, even a toaster, or I can just morph into the form of a toaster, a chair, or a cold or hot breeze, or a cat, dog, or mouse.  Being a flower is delightful, even morphing into a smoking cigarette, or the smoke is delightful.  It’s all child’s play.  Though I am aware of the law of diminishing returns.  After awhile the excitement subsides and I choose to be other forms and do other things, until their newness wears off.