There is a thickness to life, a depth and a knowing, an observer and an observed. I feel the depth deepening. I see the” I” as ego and separate from the observer, when this separation is complete, bliss will remain and be all pervasive. I feel it coming; a flood of knowing is approaching. Glimpses of becoming, I see the 3D effect, the truth in believing without the believing, or the truth. To dis-identify with the body is to watch it change and grow, watch it become and not, watch it be and not and know there is no death to the being that is observing. The bliss’s will follow, don’t grab at it, just let it be.
It really no longer matters if he loved me or not, it really doesn’t – that is just ego. I say to him in my head, “you have no power over me” and the glass breaks, the mirror shatters and that which is identified with is gone, leaving only the essence of being, of eternal being, not dependent on anything or anyone external. A freeing of non-self but all self, without ego, a smiling face beyond thought, above resistance to what is, in spite of “myself” recognizing and seeing it in everything and everyone, even the many who don’t see, who don’t know there is anything to see or know.
My body changes, it needs food, water and rest. It doesn’t ask for it, it demands it and takes it. It is its due as a vessel of importance. It holds my humanness but is not who I am. The universal consciousness powers my physical being. It makes me breathe in my sleep, it lights my inner darkness with a promise of the eternal. It whispers “no fear, no death, no end to being” to my soul and shows me the way to peace. Its peace, like a warm blanket, descends to wrap my soul and quiet its longings. It holds and comforts until the longing stops, and then it holds some more.
To be given this gift of life for however long the body lasts, is the ultimate blessing. It provides a benchmark of sorts; a non-being to give being its meaning. It provides a sense of the temporary to illustrate the permanent, the enlessness of being. It provides the physical to complete the picture and therein comes the depth and texture of existence, eternal existence.
This little body, this perfect creation is lovely. I feel its aliveness; I watch in awe how in spite of me, and my abuse of it, it continues on. I see how I think of it, when I honor it with truth and love, it glows, it reacts as a whole with a flushing of the skin, it is telling me it knows, it hears me. But it is ageing, only doing what it is meant to do and I have been privileged to be able to watch as the un-manifested became manifested, how it learned and experienced and how now it is fading back to the formless again but richer and aware of being aware, it is all what we choose it to be, but only if we know.
Just be still and let it come, whatever “it” is, no concept, no thought, all freedom, stop labeling, feel and not, see and not, know and don’t, be without being. I can’t help but think in words, but try to stop thinking and be, be as the fresh night air that is flowing through my bedroom window. Sharing itself with my being, the fragrance of the moist early spring earth just is and buy its just being it imbibes my being with a wonder and joy. I experience it without thought as to the why or how of it, my being knowing its being.
When we can truly embrace this knowing, when we can truly embrace this mess that is our human condition, when we can finally stop pointing and touching with the broken finger only then can we experience the eternal hallelujah. As L. Cohen wrote, “It is a cold and broke hallelujah”. But thank goodness for the pain, for the depth, for the experience, for all of it. But to hold that being, to maintain that presence, to accept and believe in its fleeting nature is sometimes so far out of reach because of my ego, and when that unreachable feeling comes over me, then it is time to sit, to be silent, to let the being take hold in silence.
In my sitting, there are bursts of joy, bliss and understanding of being, felt not thought, a spontaneous smile but then I try to grab it, to hold on to the majic and by doing so I chase it back into the silence from where it came. By being silent and just sitting and being, I invite it back. It acts like a timid bird, wanting to be close but afraid of me and my ego. It shows itself and thereby makes the lack if it, or the absense of it when I have chased it away, so empty and flat, uncomfortable and shallow, dark and cold, I don’t’ like it. It is not reality, or more accurately it is reality without the knowing and I don’t want to stay there. But when I try to rise above it the effort seems too great. It is only when I don’t try that it is effortless. I need to stop getting in my own way, stop getting in my beings way.
The sights, smells, senses of life are wonderful. We and all the beings on this earth share our presence here together. We enrich each other’s physical experience; and by doing so we make that cold and broken hallelujah no so cold or broken after all.
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