Everything is otherwise and nothing is what it seems. The world wells up from the ground of being, the limitless expanse, formless becoming form. We, which are other bits of that limitless formlessness that have temporarily become limited form, attempt to place our labels of sound and language on all that which arises and no longer see the arisen in the light of truth but as labels and stories which veil our vision and cloud our unity, creating a false sense of separation. They make God something over there instead of all that is here. Truth becomes almost inaccessible, the maze of stories and labels is the game we see as life. Then the forms die, pass away, becoming infinite formlessness again and the dance of eternity continues infinitely.