The Box

I was recently given a gift.  A beautiful, perfectly sized, journal.  The cover is in one of my favorite hues of lavender with one of those perfect hard cover leather type bindings.  It came wrapped in cellophane to keep the cover pristine.  I held it in my hand and with gratitude exclaimed, “Perfect size!  This is easily grabbed from my purse for taking quick notes!  And sooooo pretty!  Thank you!”

I did not unwrap the cellophane, thinking it best to keep the cover pretty.  I put it into my purse and did not look at it again until I needed to take down some important information.  That’s when the trouble started…

Who could have imagined that a Journal which markets itself for “Recording Every Wonderful Day” would not come – lined or in the least – a simple blank page?  This journal came with each page full of hundreds and hundreds of dark inked very small boxes – to write in.  Every single page was like this.  A Journal full of boxes.   To be specific – there were four hundred and eight square boxes on each front and back of each four by six inch page.  Try to visualize that.   Boxes.  In dark ink.

I tried to ignore the boxes and hurried to write my notes.  Each individual box was too small to write a complete word in it so I tried writing sloppily across the grid.  This made it difficult to read what I had written as the box lines got in the way of the cursive straight lined letters.

I took another approach and tried to size my letters so that one letter fit into each small square box.  This made it difficult to read because the letters seemed to stand alone and be too individualized.  The words seemed to spread out into a  – meaningless jumble of ongoing letters from the alphabet.

Spacing became another issue.  How many empty boxes does one skip for space between words versus the number of empty boxes skipped between sentences?

Looking at the journal, and those Individual Stand Alone Letters sitting in their own individual grid boxes – made my head hurt.  It was like trying to read through spaghetti.

At this point I became chagrined, because I had so openly expressed my joy about the color, quality, and size of the Journal which touted itself for “recording every wonderful day” as I stuck it into my purse with the cello wrap – that my husband had gone out and bought me – more of them.  It now dawned on me that I most likely had the same problem with the beautiful powder blue, navy, red, and teal colored same brand “journals” which now lived on my shelf – waiting to be used.

I held the journal and opened it to the middle.  I was feeling hostile toward this cute little journal now, and wondered, “Is this for people who record the daily temperature in grids?”

“Is this for engineers who need little boxes to record degrees/latitudes in tiny boxes?”

“Is this for someone who Graphs the quality of their Wonderful Days?!”

I asked people around me if they knew “Who would need/use such a journal?”

Crickets.  No one had a clue.

They were however, entertained and intrigued, by the fact that its stated purpose, “Journal”, was clear and right there on its – face.

“Who the heck is this Journal – FOR?!”  I ask again.   “It’s for people who live in small boxes.  And all their 408 neighbors who live in their own tiny tight box right next door!”  I thought to myself.

This got me thinking ….

Holy Source does not live, nor exist – IN –  a or The box.  Holy Source manifests in the box because we are there.  This means that no writ, no script can ever – fit into any 1 single box – and contain all truth within it.  Just as I could not fit even one single full Word into one tiny square box.

I thought about the dark ink grid, and how it is much like the Matrix Grid we live in, where we try to perceive  Eternal Truth through the prism of all these lines, boxes, containments, and limitations, much like looking through a prison cell.

I believe this – to see Truth – at whichever level – the Grid Box Must Come Down.  We all live in different kinds of tiny boxes, within a page of neighbors living within their own tiny boxes.  We often feel mentally safest remaining on that page where other people in their boxes too, believe that All Truth “can be and is”  contained within those four walls of dark ink.

It can be difficult to communicate thoughts, ideas, and share concerns, joys or experience –  heart to heart or spirit to spirit –  when we are blinded by that dark ink, which sets the boundary and containment line for the box we never leave.

But, what if we become brave enough to let the ink and box around us – melt away?  Will we find that there are others who have let their containment melt away as well?  What if we find that there are five or ten or one hundred souls, who lived in small boxes which are no longer walled and separate  …… and because of this …. have created a larger vista for the rest of us ….. of what lays beyond our containment?

What if box by box, confined page by confined page – we bring down the lie – and are then brought into closer proximity, contact, and relationship – with Holy Source – Outside the limitations of any confinement?  These are pleasant thoughts to my soul.

I am on the road today, but do wish I had access to a fireplace, so that I could symbolically burn this beautiful gridlocked journal in a fire, and symbolically make the walls of containment in my own life – less than dust.

Perhaps someone reading this, will burn yard debris or grill this weekend …  perhaps you can walk it out for me, and maybe for yourself too, and symbolically burn a paper grid down to  — less than dust.  If you do — please know that my joy and gratitude goes far beyond – This 3D Grid!!!!!

And is far greater than when I first looked at that pretty little thing…

Vera Lokteff

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