They are closer, more in connection, more in one with the soul of the universe than others.
They hear the rhythms of nature, the music of the cosmic rubble, the heartbeats of a googolplexian of living beings; they feel nature's tender vibes moving in their own souls, in their bones and muscles; they see the color palette of the greatest artist.
They are the true prophets who translate the language of the universe into human expressions; they zoom-in the cosmic picture of the universe using their talents so that those who cannot feel it could get a glimpse of the beauty -- of our very being.
The prophets translate the language of the universe using their own unique talents: Some paint, some write, some sing, some play them as music, and some others dance to the rhythms.
Do you see how precious you are,
to yourself, to me, to humanity,
and to the whole universe?
If you see this, as clearly as it is, you would not regret the decision to leave all materialistic careers behind to follow the call of the universal soul; you would make a mental note to pick up that dusty guitar you now keep as interior decor.
I don't feel we are here in this cosmic rubble, rotating ever so much until the next big bang to exhaust our very being until the day we die, to pile up hypothetical currencies.
Life is larger than the recent man-made rules.
Your soul needs nourishing from the bluest fountains and the highest mountains.
I hope, with all my soul, that you would at least come close to this realization and feel happy from the depth of your soul and touch the zenith of your true being:
It may be a split second of joy but it would be a precious drop of fresh water to quench the thirst in your soul.
- Uththara -
