Your Celestial Wisdom
by Herbert L Hilliard
June 26, 2010
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Do you want to know your destiny and what it is that you should be doing and striving for as an individual within the human family?
Are you afraid of dying because you believe that physical death is the finish of your existence?
Have you ever wondered about the makeup of the Universe in which you live?
Do you wonder if other beings inhabit this dimension, our galaxy, and beyond?
Have you asked yourself what you should be doing personally as a steward of the Planet Earth concerning its ecosystem and all of its other life forms?
How should you relate to other human beings and have them relate to you as an individual and as a member of society?
If you have any of these questions in your heart, then this book is the one for you as it examines these probing questions, and much more, to comprehend and understand this phenomenon that we call awareness and existence.
This book does not have any answers to these questions and does not make any suggestions on how you should think, behave, and live.
The purpose of this book is to stir your imagination and arouse you to probe within yourself coming up with answers that best fit you and are positive contributions to society.
You don’t have to agree with anything written within the pages of this book.
This book is my personal attempt to make some sense out of living life in this physical dimension and preparing myself for the continuation of life upon my transition into the next realm of realities.
What I Am Told
by Herbert L Hilliard
What I am told. But what I am told is built on a canvas of lies. So, what should I believe when my belief is shaped by what I am told? What I am told, and I say that that is so even when what I am told is not possible for me to know.
Believing in the scarcely credible is giving yourself false confidence, and the unlikely to be true is what I am told that I should know. I open my heart and empty my mind so that what cannot be verified I can accept without the handicap of a questioning mind.
What I am told is what I do not need to know if it is not realistic, or does not make sense, and is not uplifting and enlightening. So, what am I to believe when what I am told is designed to make a fool of me?
Empty is the head that has a mind that refuses to think for itself. Where any and everything can be dumped into a hallow shell and find comfort within it. It is not about the truth; it is about what I am told; which, is its own unreal reality.
What I am told goes into one nostril and comes out of my behind. Yet what I am told is the foundation of my beliefs. A fantasy foundation that crumbles under scrutiny and falls apart in the slightest breeze.
What I am told is impossible to know without having the faith to believe that it is so, and faith without knowledge is like a shadow that appears without any light to produce it. So, what I am told I believe by faith without proof or knowledge.
I feel the warmth of life when I am in her arms. She is strong. She is beautiful. I do not need faith to know what I know about her. What I am told has nothing to do with her because I know that she is the woman for me. The empty head is filled by her presence, and all my questions are answered by her touch.
I know this without being told when I look into the smile for me that is in her eyes. What I am not being told, I know for sure. That her dark brown skin makes my dark brown skin tingle. That yes and no means yes and no. That the reality of she and I are the reality of nature as it is meant to be.
What I am told is that I should live in an illusionary world of shadows and that I should make this fantasy my reality. What I am told is that I should adjust my life to conform to someone else’s standards and not even try to create quality standards of my own.
This is what I am told, and to what I am told, I say no. But what am I except a breath away from death? That my thoughts and feelings are like falling leaves that have no place to rest. One moment is all moments, this I know to be so without being told as I hear and feel the fragility of my heart beating.
My path is defined by her outstretched hands beckoning me to her. In my mind, I have no mind that is apart from hers. That which I tell myself is all that I need to know about her, and what I know is good for me. Darkness is the path to perfect blackness, and perfect blackness is the cosmos singing in harmony.
I live. I die. I die. I live. As one is the same as the other. And so I kiss her hands, and I kiss her feet because what I am told cannot compare to this.