Good

It seems like just last week, yet so long ago that the entire universe was a uniform, velvety nothing—deep, without form, and void—that I dreamed in my heart of light.

What is light? Energy, brilliance, love. I loved the velvety depths with all my being, and how could the universe remain empty and void with such love to fill it? The radiance grew and spread and became light, and now the depth of the universe was no longer void, and it was good.

Now there was light and shadow, brightness and darkness: each beautiful, each enhancing the other, and I dreamed in my hands of creation. I gathered the soft darkness by the handful and sifted the light in glittering cascades. I ran my fingers through the depths and pulled the numinous darkness into eddies and swirls, and through it all was the glow of my love. Worlds I made, and around them skies, gasses and clouds and winds and love.

Oh, I enjoyed the currents, the ebb and flow, tides of light and dark, and I dreamed in my arms of embracing the oceans. I pulled the water into armfuls, and I built up mountains between them, with cliffs and beaches where water and land could meet, and it was good.

While the waters were always dancing, the dry land was stately and slow, and I dreamed in my soles of walking. I took my love and made of it seeds: all of that energy squeezed into such tiny space that when it burst, it could not help but unfurl into something green and growing and magical. And when I walked across the land scattering those seeds all around me, they took root and covered the earth, and it was good.

The more I created, the more love I had, infinite beyond infinite, far too much love to be spent on the dry land alone. My love filled the entire universe, and now I gathered up great masses of love and made more seeds of light to fill the whole of that beautiful, velvety space: enormous balls of energy, erupting with light, strewn through the heavens. I set them spinning and coalescing and dancing in their own cosmic currents, and bringing light to the skies and the waters and the dry land, day and night—and it was good.

It was all good: the darkness and the light, the stillness and the tides, the ocean and the land, the burning stars, the sturdy rocks, the growing plants . . . and I dreamed in my heart of life. Already the plants were setting their own seeds, growing more love, more energy, and sending it off in the wind or sprinkling it across the soil to spread that love. Now I made new kinds of life in the oceans and the skies: creatures with scales to slide through the water and creatures with feathers to lift them on air. I made tentacles to touch the world; eyes to behold all the beauty I had created; and senses to feel the pull of tides, the scents swirling on the currents, the gravity and the magnetism, and the time of the days and nights. I created creatures with ears to hear and voices to call out to each other so that they could love each other as I loved them. All intertwined, I created them: webs and currents and circles of energy and love, each creature needing others in life and in death, sharing the energy and the love. And it was good, and the more love I used in my creation, the more love I had, infinite upon infinite.

Days were flying by, darkness and light, and currents whirled and spun, stars and planets, winds and tides. Seeds took root, and creatures lived their intertwined lives, and all of it was my love made manifest, and all of it was good. Oh, it was good! But what is creation that cannot be shared? The more delight I felt in my creation, the more I longed to share that delight, and I dreamed in my heart of people. I dreamed of people who could recognize the universe as energy, light, and love. I dreamed of people who could explore the universe and marvel at it, and know body, mind, and soul, how good it is. I dreamed of people in whom love would be an impulse to dream of their own small creations and share their own delight in it: people of love and creativity, just as I am. They would be created of the same substances as the other creatures: the velvety darkness and the glowing light, the flowing water and the steadfast rock, the seeds that carry life and love, and the senses to see and hear and feel. But they would also be made in my image: alight with wonder on seeing what is good; delighting in creativity to build their own dreams; and seeded with love so that it would be carried wherever they went, growing and spreading and taking root and binding everything in light. And you are very good. You are all good.

Now, do you feel that love of which you are made? Do you see that light with which you are filled? Do you pulse with that energy that creates and loves and spreads my light? Do you remember what it means that I made you in my image? Do you know what it means that you are Good?

And how will you live in my universe, and how will you love my creation, and how will you be with all that I have created when you remember that everything is made of my love, infinite upon infinite? And it is all Good.