Vachon Imagined

Imagine this:

God and you.

Like me, you may appreciate having this corrected if it is mistaken. Male, female, Black, White—keep going. I believe you. I believe that you believe there is an intelligence outside yourself, and I would say you are right, partially.

You look at trees, your children, skyscrapers, any physical object, and you say, “God made that.” And you are right. An intelligence made that possible. But it did not create it in the way we often imagine. It made creation possible; the rest is expression of that intelligence, expression of life itself.

That is what consciousness does: express and return, express and return.

It does not need a story; it is the story.

It does not need an altar, a religion, or a monument; it is the life moving through all of those things. It is also the exodus.

Life—your life—is the way. Your religion is the way. And your experience, your “I,” your sense of self, is also the way out.

Trust it. Trust yourself enough to see what is there. Trust that what you see is real, and then watch it leave.

Watch it. Touch it. But do not talk about it yet. Save that for later. I would like to hear it then.

For now, simply watch it transform. Watch it gather and disappear. Participate in it. Recognize it. Participate in your life.

It is a gift to be known. It is a life to be discovered.

The exodus is always now.

It happens when you lay down your experience and return to your life—free of opinion, free of self-consciousness, free to meet people not as ideas, categories, or stories, but as the life they are.