Awakening into consciousness is to ask. To ask why.
Rather than to be.
It is to separate. It is separateness.
The central location of being is will.
At the center of existence is will. At the center of paradise is the oneness of two wills: the vine and branches of the tree of life. To lay oneself finally and utterly down in the shade of the Living Tree, finally willing to die to death, die to the poisonous fruit of knowledge, is to be resorbed into its roots, to ascend the capillaries of its vines and branches, to stretch out, to bud, to leaf, to flower and fruit, to live again and adorn the garden of God within the canopy of His grace, to transform from children of God into sons of God. To become princes and kings and heirs of Eden. Not merely to be loved by the Father, but through the cross of will, to love like the Father loves. To have the heart of the Father.
At the center is a voice; is a presence as broad and high as daylight. Yet there is another voice, another presence, as narrow and specific as an equation. As black and quick as a garret. That voice says, “Not Thy will, but mine!”
And even though that snake will always strike our heel, we may yet always crush his head.