All of a sudden I have been feeling the importance of the accumulation of time. Time gives us backgrounds to measure time against. I am now a woman, a human, with a past. So much has happened and each new event falls into that net and changes it. An infinite ever changing net of relations. From it springs... meaning. I have not in the past had a sense of meaning as I am able to have now. A sense of how each event leads to the next, of how I unconsciously moved from goal to goal, from being to being. Of how the beings I have lived through are interrelated and also strong in themselves. 

I have understood that, since I will never get from life as much as I have to give, the only path to my happiness is to take satisfaction in giving. I want to give it all, all this love I have kept, and have wanted to take. This love exists nowhere else in the world. It was born with me, I am the source. I have spent most of my life dissatisfied, searching for the source as though it had to be external. But looking inside me I saw nothing. All that kept me going was the hope that one day I would find the source. But this hope was what generated my dissatisfaction. It clouds the truth; that I am it, I am the source; I must allow others to find me. 

I am responsible for all humanity. I have always wanted to give, exclusively.

When we live through external systems, each sentence we say is a lie. Each sentence springs from a system of beliefs that is not ours, but that we have chosen to accept because we weren't brave enough to listen to our own system or our need to break systems. 

I long for the moment when not a word - not one word - will come from anywhere but the source - me.