A Lesson from the Spirit

Knowledge is everywhere, both within and without. You know that.
But what if I told you that knowledge is hidden even in the initials of a name?
When someone calls you by name, you respond. Why? Because you know that the name belongs to you.

In the pursuit of defining your uniqueness, you lose your soul.
Take, for example, a contract: it lists persons, their names, dates of birth.
All of that matters so that a particular person assumes specific obligations and rights.
To bear responsibility for oneself and one's decisions.
Every time you are called by name and asked something, asked to act, you bear that responsibility for yourself.
Responsibility in your own replies and actions. It pushes you toward making a choice. But is it so important?
It is only about your readiness.
You have driven yourself so hard into the confines of responsibility before your name, before yourself, and before those you care about, that you often lose yourself in that whirlpool.

As if waiting for a bell to ring so you must rise again and be called to answer once more. What to say? What to do? How? And your thoughts are already there, somewhere tied to that name of yours.
I'm not saying a name is bad. No.

I'm only trying to convey the shape of responsibility you have assumed for yourself. When you accept yourself inside and accept yourself outside, then nothing will seem so important — even the very name you have clung to at times.

This is not about irresponsibility; this is about establishing the zone of comfort in which your soul ripens, your thoughts ripen, you yourself ripen.
You mature, and by your readiness you reveal to the world a truth, a verity that is spoken easily and received easily by others, even if they do not notice it.
Does it matter who you are when your gaze is lifted to the heavens, to that union of souls you have always striven for?

"It is not people who matter, but their deeds," you say.
But deeds become part of something great only when those people come into their own greatness.
Not merely in the posture of answering for oneself, but in the posture of the mission of unity.

So often you were nobody to yourself and wished to be somebody to others, but it did not work.
Harmony and balance are broken.
Only the acceptance of everything is an unshakable balance in which you do not fret, do not get entangled, and do not flee.
You accept the consequences of the moment at your beginning.