("Father" (or similar) is another alternative, if you don't like names and titles)
I still pray, and use the word Beloved. The mind can not grasp it and sculpt and image; and rather than reaching outward toward something, there is a looking inward into the effervescent cool-warm sense of Being. Deeper into That, which is most close, intimate, and Real. And it is not so much around words anymore as around the wordless sense of being and existing. It can not be described, but we all know the sense of sweet alive existence and be-ing. It's like a total simplification. A falling into what is here when every thing -- is taken away.
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