"Atoms can reveal mathematics. Flowers and stars and mountains and sunsets can reveal beauty. The biological order can reveal life in ascending series. Historical events can present a dramatic story that expresses and vindicates a moral order. But it is only through a concrete person who is divine enough to show love and grace in consummate degree, and human enough to be identified with us, that we can be assured of love at the heart of things. "
– Rufus Jones
April 30, 2005
April 28, 2005
The Fragrance of Heaven
"What is this fragrance of heaven?"
It is a pure, sweet fragrance.
It is the clear, spring air
that swirls between us.
This freshness is only made so
by the cleansing of soul --
the darkness brought forth,
held carefully between us,
loved with a purity and sanctity
it deserves, and then,
when the time came --
kissed and blown
to its own freedom.
What is left?
This, this little bit of heaven,
this delicious fragrance
of deep love nestled
between two lovers.
This, my friend,
is the one love.
Swirling, like leaves
gently drifting in
springtime breezes.
It is a pure, sweet fragrance.
It is the clear, spring air
that swirls between us.
This freshness is only made so
by the cleansing of soul --
the darkness brought forth,
held carefully between us,
loved with a purity and sanctity
it deserves, and then,
when the time came --
kissed and blown
to its own freedom.
What is left?
This, this little bit of heaven,
this delicious fragrance
of deep love nestled
between two lovers.
This, my friend,
is the one love.
Swirling, like leaves
gently drifting in
springtime breezes.
April 23, 2005
Riverwalk
Take me with you on your riverwalk today.
Share this quiet beauty with me, let us look
up to the ever changing sky, together.
We'll listen to the twigs crunching under foot,
the frogs making their amazing music in the distance
and to the sound of breathing in the pungent morning air.
Let's stop when we hear the song of the sparrow
watching in silence as a baby bird soars from the nest for the first time.
Together we'll notice the ladybug walking across your shoe.
Together we'll savor the ecstasy of the brilliant orange poppies
the blue blue blue of the sky, and
the delicate mossy greens of the rocks and leaves.
When we approach the river's deepest pools,
we'll notice the sounds of the waves lapping.
We'll look into the clear deep water, and see.
We'll see the image of the clouds above reflected
we'll see the mossy rocks and branches at the bottom
we'll see our own reflection, not two, but one.
Take me from you pocket and scatter me there,
in the deepest pool. Watch me swirl, dance, and finger the water
watch me gently, silently, sink into the unknown.
In the ripples that flow out in concentric circles
hear my song, rising - a love song from the water's depths
Echos of a lover singing from her heart.
Share this quiet beauty with me, let us look
up to the ever changing sky, together.
We'll listen to the twigs crunching under foot,
the frogs making their amazing music in the distance
and to the sound of breathing in the pungent morning air.
Let's stop when we hear the song of the sparrow
watching in silence as a baby bird soars from the nest for the first time.
Together we'll notice the ladybug walking across your shoe.
Together we'll savor the ecstasy of the brilliant orange poppies
the blue blue blue of the sky, and
the delicate mossy greens of the rocks and leaves.
When we approach the river's deepest pools,
we'll notice the sounds of the waves lapping.
We'll look into the clear deep water, and see.
We'll see the image of the clouds above reflected
we'll see the mossy rocks and branches at the bottom
we'll see our own reflection, not two, but one.
Take me from you pocket and scatter me there,
in the deepest pool. Watch me swirl, dance, and finger the water
watch me gently, silently, sink into the unknown.
In the ripples that flow out in concentric circles
hear my song, rising - a love song from the water's depths
Echos of a lover singing from her heart.
April 19, 2005
Stillness of Morning
To my Beloved,
In the stillness of
the early morning
I pull the quiet over me.
Silence descends
Light streaming in
soft, luminous.
(Briefly, I wonder,
“Where does this light originate?
Outside, or in?” It matters not.)
In solitary quietude
Self disintegrates
Fragments dropping,
Vision becomes pure
without the lens of time,
person, culture, or history.
There is no time,
No where to go
Nothing to do.
Now is simply
Breathing
Sitting, being.
There is profound peace
Here, now, in this
tranquil space, with you.
I love you
with a quiet, slow, warm
love emanating.
In the stillness of
the early morning
I pull the quiet over me.
Silence descends
Light streaming in
soft, luminous.
(Briefly, I wonder,
“Where does this light originate?
Outside, or in?” It matters not.)
In solitary quietude
Self disintegrates
Fragments dropping,
Vision becomes pure
without the lens of time,
person, culture, or history.
There is no time,
No where to go
Nothing to do.
Now is simply
Breathing
Sitting, being.
There is profound peace
Here, now, in this
tranquil space, with you.
I love you
with a quiet, slow, warm
love emanating.
April 16, 2005
The Painter's Brush
I have been contemplating this Thomas Kelly quote this week. Kelly is speaking about that place, deep within us, that he calls an amazing sanctuary of the soul. I been considering how is it that we arrive at this place, which is with us all along, already home unto itself? I recognize that for me, longing or desire has not led me to this sanctuary; for indeed, there is nowhere to go. In fact, it seems the more I want to see into this experience Kelly so eloquently describes, the further I am from it. I am left with unresolved frustration how can this be so close, yet so far from me right now? How can I find this light within me?
Kelly uses the word yielding, which signals the way. It is the yielding, the acquiescing of ego, of self, of personality, of desire that allows me to enter this dynamic center. In my experience, this only happens, or happens most readily, in the syntax of simple silence. Breath by breath in silence, I feel myself relax, open, my heart soften, my thinking mind eventually stops its fluttering. It is as though I fall into a new place within me; here there is the feeling of warmth and love, a kind of radiating life stirring within. The feeling is bliss, albeit a very quiet, peaceful bliss, in these moments.
When I feel this closeness to that within me that is pure, primordial, I want to savor it, to nurture the flame of this fire, so to speak. But how? All too quickly this light dims with one impulsive stroke of an everyday annoyance, my tender flame seems to extinguish, and I lose my peaceful bliss, I lose my way from that amazing sanctuary of my soul.
Recently, I have begun to try something new, something that helps me carry graceful presence forward from meditative silence into the activity of my day. I imagine my transition from meditation to work to be soft, flowing, moving slowly and gently from one activity into another. I have this image of a painter's brush; dipping the brush into rich color the painter then feathers the brush from solid color to streaks of color to wispy recollections of color. Feathering out my prayerful awareness, flowing, one moment of conscious awareness merges into another. When I realize that I have lost touch with sacred presence, I quiet myself... Dip my brush... Slow down... breathe... notice... yield...
Kelly uses the word yielding, which signals the way. It is the yielding, the acquiescing of ego, of self, of personality, of desire that allows me to enter this dynamic center. In my experience, this only happens, or happens most readily, in the syntax of simple silence. Breath by breath in silence, I feel myself relax, open, my heart soften, my thinking mind eventually stops its fluttering. It is as though I fall into a new place within me; here there is the feeling of warmth and love, a kind of radiating life stirring within. The feeling is bliss, albeit a very quiet, peaceful bliss, in these moments.
When I feel this closeness to that within me that is pure, primordial, I want to savor it, to nurture the flame of this fire, so to speak. But how? All too quickly this light dims with one impulsive stroke of an everyday annoyance, my tender flame seems to extinguish, and I lose my peaceful bliss, I lose my way from that amazing sanctuary of my soul.
Recently, I have begun to try something new, something that helps me carry graceful presence forward from meditative silence into the activity of my day. I imagine my transition from meditation to work to be soft, flowing, moving slowly and gently from one activity into another. I have this image of a painter's brush; dipping the brush into rich color the painter then feathers the brush from solid color to streaks of color to wispy recollections of color. Feathering out my prayerful awareness, flowing, one moment of conscious awareness merges into another. When I realize that I have lost touch with sacred presence, I quiet myself... Dip my brush... Slow down... breathe... notice... yield...
April 14, 2005
Sudden Flash?
"How did you come to that state of unity with everything?"
"People have asked me that before, and I always feel that they expect to hear the dramatic account of some sudden miracle through which I suddenly became one with the universe. Of course nothing of the sort happened. My inner awareness was always there; though it took me time to feel it more and more clearly; and it equally took time to find words that would at all describe it. It was not a sudden flash, but a slow yet constant clarification of something that was always there. It did not grow, as people often think. Nothing can grow in us that is of spiritual importance. It has to be there in all its fullness, and the only thing that happens is that we become more and more aware of it. It is our intellectual reaction and nothing else that needs time to become more articulate, more definite."
Krishnamurti 1934
"People have asked me that before, and I always feel that they expect to hear the dramatic account of some sudden miracle through which I suddenly became one with the universe. Of course nothing of the sort happened. My inner awareness was always there; though it took me time to feel it more and more clearly; and it equally took time to find words that would at all describe it. It was not a sudden flash, but a slow yet constant clarification of something that was always there. It did not grow, as people often think. Nothing can grow in us that is of spiritual importance. It has to be there in all its fullness, and the only thing that happens is that we become more and more aware of it. It is our intellectual reaction and nothing else that needs time to become more articulate, more definite."
Krishnamurti 1934
April 6, 2005
The Slumbering Christ
“Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continually return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto itself. Yielding to these persuasions, gladly committing ourselves in body and soul, utterly and completely, to the Light Within, is the beginning of true life. It is a dynamic center, a creative Life that presses to birth within us. It is a Light Within that illumines the face of God and casts new shadows and new glories upon the human face. It is a seed stirring to life if we do not choke it. It is the Shekinah of the soul, the Presence in the midst. Here is the Slumbering Christ, stirring to be awakened, to become the soul we clothe in earthly form and action. And (God) is within us all.”
Thomas Kelly
Thomas Kelly
April 4, 2005
Out From Under the Covers
But what can stay hidden?
Love’s secret is always lifting its head
Out from under the covers.
“Here I am!”
RUMI
***
Under the covers, back in the womb of our mind identified self, we again live in the sonambulistic twilight of unconsciousness. Once again we become disenchanted with our lives, the suffering, the misery. It dawns on us that our world has once again become claustrophobic, lackluster. Haven't we been here before? Where did we lose our way again, and how? Then we catch a glimpse of sunlight, a whiff of fragrant spring air, and again want out, and set off in search of the openness and freedom that is our birthright. Once again we replay the odyssey of awakening. We wake up and find we're in the theater of self, where the epic of Little Me has been playing over and over. We get up, dazed and nauseated and leave the theater. We go out into the fresh air and sunlight where we rub our eyes and are astounded. We remember our journey outside the prison walls. Eventually we learn how opening up and clearing out leads to increasing luminosity in our lives, a fathomless abundance. And one blissful day we discover the prison walls have fallen away altogether. They are seen to be insubstantial, of our own making, and the house of self collapses. Our identification with mind, body and emotion dissolves and (this has been said in so very many different ways) the sky falls on our head, we turn into existence itself, the universe wakes up, we are pulled through the gate without the use of our own hands. Simply, you are awake. Authentic being, authentic presence is here. Call it bliss, call it love, beauty, silence, call it God.
Post by Akilesh
Love’s secret is always lifting its head
Out from under the covers.
“Here I am!”
RUMI
***
Under the covers, back in the womb of our mind identified self, we again live in the sonambulistic twilight of unconsciousness. Once again we become disenchanted with our lives, the suffering, the misery. It dawns on us that our world has once again become claustrophobic, lackluster. Haven't we been here before? Where did we lose our way again, and how? Then we catch a glimpse of sunlight, a whiff of fragrant spring air, and again want out, and set off in search of the openness and freedom that is our birthright. Once again we replay the odyssey of awakening. We wake up and find we're in the theater of self, where the epic of Little Me has been playing over and over. We get up, dazed and nauseated and leave the theater. We go out into the fresh air and sunlight where we rub our eyes and are astounded. We remember our journey outside the prison walls. Eventually we learn how opening up and clearing out leads to increasing luminosity in our lives, a fathomless abundance. And one blissful day we discover the prison walls have fallen away altogether. They are seen to be insubstantial, of our own making, and the house of self collapses. Our identification with mind, body and emotion dissolves and (this has been said in so very many different ways) the sky falls on our head, we turn into existence itself, the universe wakes up, we are pulled through the gate without the use of our own hands. Simply, you are awake. Authentic being, authentic presence is here. Call it bliss, call it love, beauty, silence, call it God.
Post by Akilesh
April 2, 2005
Rogue Prayer
This rainy morning, the low-pressure system, wet, heavy, weighing on my head, cold, calls forth a blissful fire. I came across a line from "Sailing to Byzantium" by W.B. Yeats:
Consume my heart away;
sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is,...
And the following from "Slouching Towards Bethlehem."
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand...
And here are some words of rogue prayer that came up, transforming grey into rejoicing, which I share with you. Just prayerful rejoicing:
How did you find yourself here, turning and turning in an endless sky of alienation? How did you get so out of touch with your heart, so lost, so dead, unable to see an emerald bird or hear the music of his song, unable to feel the light of a sunset or lose yourself and the fragrance of divine love? Why are you stained with such anxiety and grief? Why are things constantly falling apart, centers spiraling downward in want and fear, in chaos swirling? What is this religious anarchy loosed upon the world, this blood dimmed-tide everywhere drowning innocence?
You recall a time when you were a small child you came across a circle in the grass. You brought a rich and vivid child's imagination to the moment. In that circle you felt the freshness of night, and you felt yourself disappear leaving only a clearing flooded with moonlight. With awe and wonder there appeared tiny moving sparkles on the grass, tiny glittering clusters of light. You stood astounded, marveling at these glimmerings shapes, little beings of light dancing in a circle. Some kind of mysterious celebration was happening and you had no idea of what was going on. It was pure enchantment. At first you were afraid, but there seemed to be no threat at all. These little beings did not mind at all that you were watching them rejoice. Their hearts seemed so full of happiness that nothing else mattered but the dance. And you recall the feelings of ecstatic celebration, of gentleness and peace, the sweet fragrance of love; the graceful presence, so loose and natural, so light and easy. Who had blessed you with this luminous vision? Where did such bliss and contentment come from? How is it that you were allowed entry into this ceremony of innocence?
Through this magic circle in the grass you realized it is possible to experience the blissful revelation again. It is no longer just "at hand." It is here now, circles within circles, within you -- already, always and everywhere. The layers of the onion fall away, one after the other, and when the last layer drops there is nothing there, no self, no identity. The burden of mind, of identification, of knowledge has fallen away, and once again you have become an innocent child, an innocence and openness with no barriers to keep existence from pouring into you. The burden of rationality has been dropped, it no longer dominates, it has been relegated from foreground to background. Again you find yourself moving within that magic circle of so long ago, drowning in an ever-present ceremony of innocence. And with an open, willing and receptive trust you let go and give yourself over to this drowning, to this dance, to this celebration, this abundant rejoicing. That's what it is, an abundance, an unimaginable treasure within that turns a child's heart into that of a universal monarch. This abundance transforms the hearts of ordinary humans into the luminous presence of divine kings and queens. With no kingdom and no subjects, notice how these sovereigns rejoice! They are living their revelation moment to moment. Look how they again collect flowers in the garden, enchanted by the fragrance, the richness of color and form; how they chase butterflies, how their gaze drifts toward the end of the rainbow, finding showers of gold. Look how they marvel silently at the stars; notice how complete and self-contained they are collecting seashells on the beach, or utterly absorbed in the building of a sand castle; notice the spontaneity, the blissful absorption in just this... The whole existence around them has become a playground, a place of wonder and awe, of delight, filled with the sweet vibration of love. Once again they are dancing under the moonlight in a magic circle on the grass. They have entered the mystery, with trust and unbounded innocence they have rediscovered the vast freedom of their hearts, the freedom inherent in their true nature. Their knowledge has taken its rightful place as servant, and their heart has taken its proper place as master. They have regained their sense of wonder, of mystery, of unknowing.
Post by Akilesh
Consume my heart away;
sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is,...
And the following from "Slouching Towards Bethlehem."
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand...
And here are some words of rogue prayer that came up, transforming grey into rejoicing, which I share with you. Just prayerful rejoicing:
How did you find yourself here, turning and turning in an endless sky of alienation? How did you get so out of touch with your heart, so lost, so dead, unable to see an emerald bird or hear the music of his song, unable to feel the light of a sunset or lose yourself and the fragrance of divine love? Why are you stained with such anxiety and grief? Why are things constantly falling apart, centers spiraling downward in want and fear, in chaos swirling? What is this religious anarchy loosed upon the world, this blood dimmed-tide everywhere drowning innocence?
You recall a time when you were a small child you came across a circle in the grass. You brought a rich and vivid child's imagination to the moment. In that circle you felt the freshness of night, and you felt yourself disappear leaving only a clearing flooded with moonlight. With awe and wonder there appeared tiny moving sparkles on the grass, tiny glittering clusters of light. You stood astounded, marveling at these glimmerings shapes, little beings of light dancing in a circle. Some kind of mysterious celebration was happening and you had no idea of what was going on. It was pure enchantment. At first you were afraid, but there seemed to be no threat at all. These little beings did not mind at all that you were watching them rejoice. Their hearts seemed so full of happiness that nothing else mattered but the dance. And you recall the feelings of ecstatic celebration, of gentleness and peace, the sweet fragrance of love; the graceful presence, so loose and natural, so light and easy. Who had blessed you with this luminous vision? Where did such bliss and contentment come from? How is it that you were allowed entry into this ceremony of innocence?
Through this magic circle in the grass you realized it is possible to experience the blissful revelation again. It is no longer just "at hand." It is here now, circles within circles, within you -- already, always and everywhere. The layers of the onion fall away, one after the other, and when the last layer drops there is nothing there, no self, no identity. The burden of mind, of identification, of knowledge has fallen away, and once again you have become an innocent child, an innocence and openness with no barriers to keep existence from pouring into you. The burden of rationality has been dropped, it no longer dominates, it has been relegated from foreground to background. Again you find yourself moving within that magic circle of so long ago, drowning in an ever-present ceremony of innocence. And with an open, willing and receptive trust you let go and give yourself over to this drowning, to this dance, to this celebration, this abundant rejoicing. That's what it is, an abundance, an unimaginable treasure within that turns a child's heart into that of a universal monarch. This abundance transforms the hearts of ordinary humans into the luminous presence of divine kings and queens. With no kingdom and no subjects, notice how these sovereigns rejoice! They are living their revelation moment to moment. Look how they again collect flowers in the garden, enchanted by the fragrance, the richness of color and form; how they chase butterflies, how their gaze drifts toward the end of the rainbow, finding showers of gold. Look how they marvel silently at the stars; notice how complete and self-contained they are collecting seashells on the beach, or utterly absorbed in the building of a sand castle; notice the spontaneity, the blissful absorption in just this... The whole existence around them has become a playground, a place of wonder and awe, of delight, filled with the sweet vibration of love. Once again they are dancing under the moonlight in a magic circle on the grass. They have entered the mystery, with trust and unbounded innocence they have rediscovered the vast freedom of their hearts, the freedom inherent in their true nature. Their knowledge has taken its rightful place as servant, and their heart has taken its proper place as master. They have regained their sense of wonder, of mystery, of unknowing.
Post by Akilesh
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