You are consciousness dressed in form, my love. Consciousness is divine. Matter is divine. Creation is divine. Everything is divine. Are you somehow the only exception?

Have you ever felt your destiny unfolding, beloved? Have you experienced the intensity of the hunt, the fixation of attention that only fate can explain? Have you ever told yourself your feelings wereexcessive, but known that something huge and pivotally important was carrying you along like a riptide? You can fight that current all you want; you know it will still have its way with you. Or you cantry swimming along with it, and grow amazed by your own power—until you pause and realize that you aren’t moving but being moved. You’re not in control, not at all, and that’s what makes the feeling soexquisitely exciting.

Diana frowns. “You’re taking me home, right? You just said you would.” “Hoink hoink! Of course, piglet. But I meant your real home.” “Which, last I checked,” says Diana acidly, “is in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, solar system, planet Earth.” “Hmm,” says the boar, hiccupping dreamily. “That’s what you think, darling. Tell me, can you say you’ve felt really at home at that address? Haven’t you been homesick your whole life?

Just like any civilized person, you’ve spent practically your whole life torturing an innocent wild creature. Starved it, then force-fed it, cut it, cursed it, driven it to exhaustion. Imprisoned it with other creatures who tormented it.”“What?” Diana shakes her head in miserable confusion. “I don’teven kill spiders! I never wanted to hurt anything.”“The innocent wild creature to which I refer, my darling, is you.

The mirror image of suffering is the truth. Try it. Change the story. Change the course of your entire history. Right now.” “You want me to lie about my past?” Diana wipes tears from her face with the back of her hand. “No, to tell the story a truer way,” says Herself. “Any story can be told infinite ways, dear, but listen to me. Listen well. If a story liberates your soul, believe it. But if a story imprisons you, believe its mirror image.

All for all, always.

Our incredible bewilderment (wilderness separation) blinds us from seeing that our many personal and global problems primarily result from our assault of and separation from the natural creation process within and around us. Our estrangement from nature leaves us wanting,and when we want there is never enough. Our insatiable wanting is called greed. It is a major source of our destructive dependencies and violence.

If we dare to dream, we must dare to wake up. When we come to rub our eyes wide open and face up to realness, we can clear our vision and curb a whirlwind of bewilderment that might break our mind apart, once fantasy wrangles with reality and our awareness denies the true colors of facts. ("Behind the frosted glass”)

Sorry is the day, and full of lament, when the young have to guard themselves from being food for the old.I am moved to bewilderment, when I glance my eyes upon a society that kills its young, and then pretends to mourn their modus operandi.Worse still, are those who have no compassion for the legacy and lack of positive inheritance being left to us, the future.We have to save our parents and their friends. They raised us,but do not trust us. They are too tired to enact change. The source of progress, and the wealth of the future is, us.

Unexpected clashes between past and present may arouse a surge of bewilderment, but ‘time’ can be a redeemer and heal mental wreckage. Time might prove to be a dependable ally and a reliable coach to find a new inspiring sequel for the future. (“Disruption”)

Understanding” may become “misunderstanding”, if no commitment or no responsibilities are assumed, no specific objectives set, no definite expectations met and common values and interests no longer shared. Mutual understanding may then, against all odds, end up in heartache, confusion and bewilderment. ("Mutual understanding" )

Brethren, you won’t believe what I discovered. I found out that in every place, people listened to the message (the shift our churches need) with full attention and total bewilderment. The question that I kept on hearing was: “why are other Christian ministers not doing the same thing?

With the sensation that he was passing through the Looking-Glass, Max stared at his father as if he had never seen him before—simultaneously impressed and unnerved at the thought that, after all these years, he still knew so little about him.

None of these things bothered us excessively; we have always been a family that carries bewilderment like a banner, and odd new confusions do not actually seem to be any more bewildering than the ones we invent for ourselves; moreover, in each of these cases it was easier to believe that nothing had happened, or that it was of no importance anyway.

oh, how bitterhow bitter silentthe bewildered sorrowof a texture too thickto be brought outthrough the eyes.

[God says] Discipleship is not limited to what you can comprehend - it must transcend all comprehension. Plunge into the deep waters beyond your own comprehension, and I will help you to comprehend even as I do. Bewilderment is the true comprehension. Not to know where you are going is the true knowledge. My comprehension transcends yours.

It was bewildering, the way that reality could be overtaken, wrestled down, and murdered by the sheer weight of possibility.

What I want to write is that I lay there until morning, with tear-stained eyes, a tear-stained pillow, a tear-stained life. What can one do with levels of gloom and guilt, fear and disbelief, of bewilderment above one's capacity to register? I slept soundly.

Bewilderment increases in the presence of the mirrors.

I am bewildering you a little. Just enough to help you forget what you came to believe, so that you can remember what you’ve always known.