The intersection between ordinary life and the divine is perpetual; it is never ending, and always in a state of transformation.
It's odd that we see these things as separated, instead of understanding that all of the things that arise are a consequence of divine influence. Sometimes, when we see a particularly striking moment or object, or encounter a particularly moving event, the relationship becomes more clear to us, but we are usually not attuned to it.
This is because the inward flow that we ought to be open to is not active. In general, our whole being is passive towards this receiving facility; the awareness is drawn outward into the world, and fails to attend inwardly, where the world originates. To turn towards the inward quality is to turn towards perfection; to turn towards the outward quality is to dissipate it. This also represents the coarser and finer substances in life: that which is fine, is inward; that which is coarse, is outward.
Life ought to be a constant and unrelenting investigation of this question. To the extent that finer substances within Being are inwardly formed, gain strength, and can sense and identify the conjunction of the divine with outward life, a man or woman increases their spiritual Being. This process creates an unavoidable connection to a morality of feeling; that is, a higher form of moral responsibility towards others that cannot arise as a consequence of outward effort. The process is closely connected to what Gurdjieff called conscience.
Conscience ought to act constantly and in every moment in life, so that feeling participates in one's outer consideration of others, and so that one is present enough to see precisely how one ought to deal with others. There needs, in other words, to be a very precise attention, an
intimate attention, in any interaction with others. This is perhaps even more important than the moment to moment attention that one may try to achieve (one never does, after all, try though one may.) Since one cannot achieve a full attention, one must focus one's efforts on a right attention in the moments when it is most important, and these moments of contact with others are vital in such inner effort.
Action ought to come from the heart and from conscience. This needs to be lived, not thought about. Every moment of life is a moment of responsibility and consequences in which these two properties must come into play if one is to act in what Buddhism calls a right way. To the extent that the action is unselfish, it is always right action, and to the extent that it serves one's own selfish aims and purposes, it is never.
Unfortunately, the terrible consequences of living in a world that is dominated by lower influences and those who are on the whole quite comfortable with manifesting all the forces of hell are such that every human being of right thought and action is forced into some inevitable compromises. We should recognize this, acknowledge it, and understand that some sins — although not all — are forgiven. One should question this deeply within one's own life and understand that one is making such compromises as they are undertaken. We will all be held accountable for these actions.
This means that a great deal of thought and attention needs to be paid to pondering each instance within life where action is called for — and, of course, that is all instances, isn't it? So thinking about philosophical conundrums of the nature of the universe, although attractive, is hardly anywhere near as important as thinking about where I am right now and what I am doing. It isn't in my grasp of extraordinary principles that my Being is measured; far more of it is measured by my attention to my fellow human beings, and how much conscience and understanding I exercise in my relationships to them.
To see a bit more of this in a deeper way will certainly produce remorse of conscience.
May your soul be filled with light.