Beloved, Come with Me to treasures near and far, except there is no far. All is at hand. I don’t want to say to let us all treasures to prove. What has to be proven? We are. We live. Only My children are not so conscious as you would all love to be. You have a tendency to feel you may be wasting your so-called time on Earth. It feels to you that you must move faster. For God’s sake, you don’t want to be wasting time. What are you doing but wasting time, you ask yourself, if not wasting time unless you hasten?

You figure this is your year to giddy-up, little horsie. Have you even gotten started yet? Hmm, you may think that hastening is the best thing you can be doing. The best thing you can be doing is to be enjoying.

If you could lie on your back on the grass in a meadow, chewing on a straw, you would be going faster than you have been. You keep running, yet you are at a standstill. Patience was never your forte. Or, it’s possible that you have been ragingly patient when you could have been moseying along.

As you see it, you seem to be more or less going up and down on a merry-go-round when you would much rather be making hay while the sun shines.

You are sure now, after the fact, that you have been wasting time. You feel this while you have no clue as to how to get a move on.

This is not to say that you are not giving your all to your heedless life. The thing is, you don’t seem to be getting anywhere. You are rushing right and left, yet what do you have to show for it?

You know you are not a dunce, yet you might as well be for all the progress you seem to make. Are you no more than yesterday’s newspaper?

You have no way to adjust your sights. You don’t see millenniums of progress. In theory, you see further, yet if only you could see an ant’s worth of progress.

Beloved, you beg Me to help you. You suggest that you ride on a treadmill. You find yourself as having hardly begun.

You could cry for all the wasted years. As you see it, you are but a wastrel. You see yourself as slow as molasses. You don’t mean to complain, yet when is it your turn to move forward once and for all?

Of course, you have been applying yourself to your life.

Remind yourself that I have told you there is no time. Speed isn’t everything. Speed isn’t the wonderful thing you have thought. The fact is that you are not running a race. Life isn’t really something you are trying to accomplish. You are fabricating your own report card. Confess. If you don’t like your report card, write yourself a better one.

Enjoy your walk along the way. Speed is overrated. When did I ever say you are to rush to the finish-line. When did I ever say that there is a royal limit to life in your perspective?

I do say: Enjoy the walk you take. In case you are someone who races, know it’s okay to amble. Stroll. Wander. Whatever is, it’s fine. Your life isn’t a mock-up. Your life doesn’t have to be in living technicolor. You’re going to graduate in any case. What exactly is the hurry? Hurry could be a speed-trap. It’s OK for you to take your time. Sit back.

Are you looking to make a speed record, like being the fastest gun in the west? Heavens, no!