The Artist

Many years ago, one of my main spiritual teachers, once said

‘What is sacred is secret’

I did not understand this statement.

He also said

‘I am nothing, I have nothing’

I did not understand this either.

Both statements alluded to a greater truth which part of me sensed was real but which I was unable to realise.

It now feels like all the threads of the fabric are no greater or lesser. The weaver spins many yarns and then crafts an interwoven masterpiece.

The interplay is complex and exquisite. Stories within stories all connected somehow across an ingeniously constructed landscape of space and time with inconceivable depth and perspective.

The artist with no name hides behind it, within it and in front of it.

Who could have imagined?