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It's nothing but Divine Love,
which is all that there is,
nothing ever was,
nothing ever will be.
The Love so Divine,
that each is looking for it,
for each has separated from it.
Which each remembers at the subconscious level, and yet each has forgotten at the conscious level.
All come from the same existence,
the same source,
the same origin.
All one,
Each one,
Each a fractal,
Each an expansion,
Each light,
Each love.
All one.
Yet each in a different box.
The box of comfort,
the box of love,
the box of expansion.
Along with the many who fit into the box easily, comfortably.
Each loving the box, till one can no longer fit in the box. Till one cannot breathe anymore in that box.
The box remains the same, yet it becomes small to hold the one who is expanding as per where the soul guides them.
The soul who cannot be contained in the box,
is not the box,
is an expanded,
conscious,
non-existent being of light.
That which no box can hold.
That, my dear,
is then the most uncomfortable box.
