Limits of an Infinite Self

“I” as subject. Subjective.

“I” as object. Objective?

“I” cannot transcend “my” subjectivity – that is, I cannot escape it. At most I can hope, incrementally, to widen its scope and depth, to correct its distortions and free it from layer after layer after layer of suffocating illusion. But what I can do, in this very moment, is to honour my subjective experience, to accept it just as it is. As a gift from Source. To really get the most out of it, by giving it as much as I truly can.

Love is objective. I say this with certainty. This is not a semantical statement. Love is what is, when appearances are stripped down and divisions are shattered. It sees what is and accepts what is. Love honours subjectivity; it does not fear to put self in the other's place, to empathize and understand.

Love is no-fear. We fear love, we cling to fear. We fear that by letting go of our fear and surrendering to love, we might lay ourselves open to calamity. But what calamity can there be, greater than not having love? The world of appearances seems to contain trouble, danger, evil, misfortune, bad intent, grave error. With the eyes of love, we see that this is not so. The only “error” is that we forget love.

I want to be able to see myself as object, not only subject. (With relish at the irony of beginning with the words “I want...”) An object and an instrument of God's intent. An object of God's love. A means to a greater end, more than just mortal “I,” to be born, to live and to die. Love gives meaning to life. It is the purpose behind all.

We can use the mirroring and projecting faculties of our mind to gain more objectivity. We can, in a virtual, imaginary, inward sense, look at our self in the mirror, project consciousness “outside” the self while still remaining as self. We can see where we err. We can see beauty (and ugliness) we might have otherwise missed. We see more. And if we can accept what we see and work to better it, that is love.

With gratitude,

William