Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Walk With Me

There is a trajectory in the social layer of the world at the moment toward chaos and entropy. Personal, financial and political systems which seemed to serve us in the past are being exposed as inadequate, false or just too complicated to hold up their own weight. Relations are strained, and tension is mounting. Many people are throwing themselves into this story, pulling the pin, tossing the self, waiting for the explosion.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing...but, don't follow it! Let's go for a walk, instead.

Yes, you can fit it into your schedule (if I can, you can). No, you shouldn't be doing other things, pleasing other people, plotting some kind of overthrow or writing a different ending. The time of quantity may be over, but quality is something all of us are capable of intending and experiencing. Quality of life, of soul, of being.

It may seem as though you are disconnected from such a possibility, but you are not. Even if you spend your days in a big city working and socializing through a computer, go home to stare at your giant TV, and get your exercise on machines--no disconnection is actually possible. Your life, no matter how much you may long for numbness, is not virtual.

Everything you are experiencing at the moment is directly related to what you are thinking, the kinds of stories you tell yourself, and the type of fiction you believe. The only way to change the quality of your life, to prove what's real, is to step out into it, beyond your familiar ways, means and ideas! Reading about it is fine; theory is marvelous, preliminary exploration with caution all well and good. Even denying serves as a kind of proof. For the sake of your precious Being, for understanding and defragmentation, get out of your head for just a little while, and into the element of the Real.

Can you take your head with you? Sure! But an amazing thing happens when you do one small thing just a little differently, when you brave a tiny action, take a few moments to venture in the spirit of exploration-without-expectation.

Head changes. Mind becomes an ally instead of an enemy. Mind, body and spirit take in the change (however incremental), the intention (however tentative), and the actual substance of what is beneath your feet, under your hands, and flowing back and forth through all the gateways of whatever senses you are blessed to use. The shell of resistance begins to crumble. Beauty, possibility, strength and an elemental grace begin to take up their natural residence within and around you. Reality changes, bends, morphs, shifts until you admit what you really are, what it really is.

Trust me--it is something you do not have to believe into existence. It is not a case of having faith in the unseen or the seemingly impossible. It is made real, manifested, grown by simple willingness to be open, to drop your grasping in favor of what is much, much bigger than your ego and all its temporary desires.

I took the picture above just yesterday, amazed at what flows into and out of Being. This is not something I have to invent...a soft Autumn lull, ageless rock, trees and water, delicate fern and swift mushroom. But the beauty is not limited to some location visited by an awestruck female with a camera...it is found everywhere, in everything--slums, dreams, problems both personal and universal, scary things, violent things--even your resistance to being everything you sense, on some deep level, that you are.

It is not something that must be negotiated, bought or rented for the day; it does not need therapy or pills; it does not come after dark nights or war or extensive retreats. It does not depend on your involvement, because it is here, regardless, and ever-willing to blossom and expand with attention. Even if you manage to successfully convince yourself that no such love exists, such love is willing to turn a deaf ear and a blind eye, just for you, and will never abandon you. Ever.

Please come.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Whole Truth

My grandson, like all babies, is a shining example of the truth inherent in all of us. Love, playfulness, curiosity, innocent wisdom...honestly happy, hungry, tired, frightened...states passing like sunshine and rain.

Somehow we bury this with mind telling us how to be and not to be, and we live only a part of ourselves, as expressed in this beautiful poem:

Half life
We walk through half our life
as if it were a fever dream
barely touching the ground
our eyes half open
our heart half closed.
Not half knowing who we are
we watch the ghost of us drift
from room to room
through friends and lovers
never quite as real as advertised.
Not saying half we mean
or meaning half we say
we dream ourselves
from birth to birth
seeking some true self.
Until the fever breaks
and the heart can not abide
a moment longer
as the rest of us awakens,
summoned from the dream,
not half caring for anything but love.
~ Stephen Levine ~
(Breaking the Drought)

Even through all of this heartbreak and seeking, the truth smiles and reaches for you.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

This, Too, Shall Pass

Someone I love very much called me in the middle of the night recently, to tell me goodbye. To tell living goodbye.

The conversation, which was filled with despair and the desire to "go to sleep and never wake up", was really a searching for a reason to continue, and a reaching for love in tangible form. This was a heart at the bottom, thinking it had lost everything and everyone.

Hearing that kind of pain is like sitting in an acid bath. Tears pour out; I'm thinking no no no, while understanding on some level that suicide is as valid an option as anything else.

Protests that the world is still beautiful and life worth living can't reach a mind in that state. I want to explain that Life has indeed yanked the rug out from under a bunch of illusions, and right in this moment is urging the ultimate letting-go--not into physical death, but into what is real, living and breathing and holding you.

Incarcerated in a wounded mind, there is no proof.

Fear holds up shining examples of just the opposite--hate, rage, injustice, addiction, poverty, struggle. Weariness says that this will continue, long into a future with death at the end. So what's the point? I'm tired, I just can't do this anymore.

I'm not there to hold you in my arms, so I hug myself. I say I love you. I love you. Listen to me! I love you.

It's all I have to offer. I don't know what else to say.

As I write this, there has been no self-murder. Of course, I am relieved. But I grieve as if the alternate reality stepped in, as if I'm preparing for a funeral, because I can't offer proof in a bottle, in a safety-net, in predictability or power. All I can give is myself, someone who dissolved and lived to tell about it.

I sit on the porch and let the sun warm my back while I cry. I put my head on my knees and feel my body blown wide open, for the closing of my eyes, for all the sounds coming out as birds and wind-chimes, the noon siren at the fire station, the leaves falling, pain collapsing into love.

I think about you as a baby, as a child, admonishing your friends not to hurt bugs or plants because they have feelings. I keep all the veils down so I can stay clear and clean, and let you run through me like a river, from the source to the source.

I know it hurts...but stay with it, stay with me. I love you.