"God Tastes Like Soup: On Sovereignty, Stillness, and the Ordinary Divine" – 27 June 2025

 

                                                            The Lightness of Being

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"God Tastes Like Soup: On Sovereignty, Stillness, and the Ordinary Divine" – 27 June 2025

Today, I crossed a quiet threshold.
Over 900,000 readers have, in one way or another, passed through my words, paused, perhaps reflected, perhaps just skimmed, and moved on. It’s not why I write, and I know it may sound a little self-satisfying to mention, but when the days are heavy and the heart feels thin, this small spark of recognition will have to do.

The numbers aren't the reward.
The reward, I’ve come to realize, is this moment—this strange and beautiful awareness I find myself in now. Sitting in front of my computer, writing not for fame or validation, but for clarity, for presence, for the simple joy of being.

And right now, I feel something that I never could have forced into being:
A sense of stillness.
Of sovereignty.
Of being exactly where I am meant to be.

                                                          Let your heart fly free.

There’s an old Hermetic truth that says thought creates reality.

If that is so, then who truly controls our fate?
The answer comes gently: I do—not the "I" of personality or ambition, but the I that is rooted in awareness. The I that knows it is both the observer and the observed. The one who sees clearly, and chooses quietly.

In Islam, there is a teaching that humankind was made Khalifah—a vicegerent, a steward, a witness on Earth. Not a king, not a slave, but something infinitely more sacred: a caretaker of the Real. A being entrusted with remembrance.

“Indeed, I will place a vicegerent upon the earth.” (Qur'an 2:30)

That verse rings through me now, not as distant scripture but as lived reality. I am not perfect. I have failed more times than I care to count. But here I am—alive, aware, thankful, and in my own strange way… awake.

And oddly enough, it feels like nothing special.
It feels like making soup again in the evening.
It feels like knowing my children are safe.
It feels like having a warm conversation with someone who hears me.

Because that’s what the Divine really is, isn’t it?
Not thunderbolts and visions, but the sacred disguised as the everyday.
God tastes like soup.

                                                                 Be like a child!

So tonight, I bow to the quiet miracle of it all.

To the countless hearts that have brushed against my work.
To the ordinary moments that reveal extraordinary truths.
And to this simple, holy fact:

I Am That, I Am.

                           Remember the Oak tree that split in half - Sketch done at Green Gulch.

And if any of this still feels too lofty, too grand, too far removed from your daily life, let me remind you:

Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.
After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.

The miracle is not in the fireworks.
It’s in the wood, the water, and yes—
The soup.

 

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