Self and beyond

 I talked about a tree, of myth or Nature, if the two be different - how could we know to that state of certainty?  It is a tree that flows since it matured to be barely more than a seedling, on a small pile of dirt incidentally collected about it, in slow but moving currents on a lake, in a river, a pond, a sea.  As it motions upon the movement of the water, seemingly by will or by trickling or by intent from above, the little tree starts to grow, and as it grows, it collects more soil and dirt, and nutrients and minerals, and all the elements that make it grow.  It collects sun beams in its little leaves and water permeating through the pile from below or absorbed from the moisture in the air, so it grows more and more, while its collection of what makes it grow, about its bourgeoning roots, accrue too.

So it travels, a wandering tree that breathes and absorbs and collects.  Its treasure is the natural bits and pieces and bytes and piles that had come naturally to it or that it reaches out to bring to itself.  I don't know what else the tree does, but probably like all normal trees, it talks with other trees and plants and flowers, through whispering and muttering and bear fruits very small or medium or large.  And speak with birds and butterflies and bees, while the eagle holds watch from above.

I read this once on the open web:

"The Lord revealed to me what the soul must say when ascending into heaven, and
how she must answer each of the upper powers:
I have come to know myself, and I have collected myself from everywhere...
and I know thee who thou art: I am of those
from above. And thus she is released."

I wonder if the little tree growing up ever asked where am I going, and from whence I came.  The way for the little tree as it is for us presupposes it began some time ago somewhere for some reason discernible by science.  Nowhere is it told how originated its means and reason to be.  Somewhere is a cause be it first cause a long time ago or an immediate cause as in why and how it is in being.  We cannot know all though sometimes it appears we can.  By each small moment is added the incremental additions that add and increase the happiness for what we have possessed, that is to say, of Life itself.  Drawn out in time, our being miraculous that we should be so here now, so tomorrow we are still here or we are remembered and so we are still here, as yesterday we were here unless we were born yesterday so today we remember and can recall the momentous being yet still unexplained that we were yesterday.  We must call forth our right to recognize that we are such as is from the miracle of birth - by each minute and momentous instant a close inspection discovers we are like born again - to say, birth in each moment attention catches is real and actual being, the meaning of "be here now".

If you have contemplated this for some moments, and notice!  Look again at the pavement and see if you can catch at least one or many stars laid in by the same miraculous revelatory beginning.  It is of our own perception - that of the being human.