Only my love

Buried, then uncovered
These shifting sands will bring me up

The winds have moved this desert here
The winds cannot move me,
but they will take all of this away

Love
Only my body holds me here

Love
Only my love for You remains

~ jnana shiva

I am made of this velvet mystery
An ancient place of worship
Here, in the velvet mystery of my heart

Soham. I am that.

.
"The real beloved is your beginning and your end.
When you find that one,
you will no longer expect anything else."
.
~ Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī
(1207-1273)
.
.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Us and them

Over and over, I listen to the song of my youth, a teen on my bed in the dark, when Pink Floyd's "Us and Them" came on the radio.

I lived in Las Vegas then. I live in Las Vegas now, a few miles from that other home. It was this time of year, when the star jasmine outside my room was sweetly intoxicating, as it is on my doorstep now.


The last tour of Pink Floyd (Division Bell Tour 1994)

My colors in the song. I thought "Us and Them" was proof that God knew me, that my strong feelings about the unseen were real, were about the real. My favorite colors then were indigo fading to black, a velvet mystery, a code for transformation... the colors in the lyrics of the song that moved me.

Now is that circle coming back around, the way it is for people who have perfect moments of life's magic as they become older, and see the pattern at last.

But there is more for me. It is a profound change. I let in love, as my guru, as my celebrity crush (who after all is closer than close in the divine play of one as many). As playful Krishna. Sweet Durga who always sets things right, as Shiva my lover.


Let me bathe you, and dress your hair, my lover


It is all love. I let it in, feel my being becoming soft and porous in a way I have never felt in this body, not even at birth, almost dying then...

When the love flows in, when I meditate on this image, I notice right away that it flows to my stomach, a wonderful energy massage, my stomach weak from a lifetime of not letting love in.

[I have had stomach problems most of my adult life. I always thought of my stomach as having problems with digestion, but now I also know that for me my stomach corresponds with my ability to assimilate love.]

This father and son are soaked with love
I have a celebrity crush (yes this is spiritual!) on a man who is so soft with love, confident with his equipoise and discrimination and as an accomplished actor and father, and human. God comes to me inside as love, often as this man, who I recognize--as I do so many internal visitors over my life--by his "energy signature," and the little flashes I get of his expressions.

Love, love it's a delicious and intoxicating festival of love that is dissolving my concerns, my blindness.

I look around several times a day now and see only what is inside, the place of One. Only One.


"Black, and blue... and who knows which is which, and who is who?"



Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Waking up to love

What if God could physically hug me? What if I could be physically hugged by God?

I dreamed that _________ sat next to me on the couch, relaxing against my arm in a friendly, but purposeful way. He put his arm loosely around me, hugging me to his side a few times as he kept his focus on the others in the room. He left his arm there, hugging me now and again.

His wife came into the room and stopped to talk to him, smiling at me. She knew it was friendly, not sexual.

It felt so good. He simply gave me love, through loving contact. Somehow he knew that was what I needed and he was glad to simply be able to give me that.

He is very similar to me in that way. Only, I somehow only give to others.

It felt fatherly, even though we are about the same age. He has endless love for his children, who are precious to him after so many premature deaths of close loved ones in his history. He shared some of that endless love with me.

_______ is comfortable with give and take. He has confidence and equipoise. He talks to me on Twitter sometimes and that teaches me how to aspire to these qualities. Social media is at times a severe test of confidence and equipoise, at least for me.

What if God could physically hug me? What if I could be physically hugged by God?

It is all consciousness. The pain of feeling separate, and needing what is not here to appear and hug me, is anava mala. Painful. I cannot think about this limited belief without pain, pain that never lets up. Burning anava mala is almost continuous for me. No breaks unless I distract myself. It is always there.


What if God could physically hug me? What if I could be physically  hugged by God? God hugged me as _________ in my dream.

I asked for that. And God appeared as my latest little crush and loved me up. The power of grace. My heart's desire. Because of my guru's grace. I still feel this grace and love as I slip through time and space, playing that there is more than one here...

How love swirls around me, a communication, yes you are on the right track. So says the darshan of God as love as I contemplate how I can experience God hugging me in every moment. Love swirls around me as everything, including me. Funny rules keep the game going... To touch and be touched is always Love in every moment.

Thank you ________. You are a great being. I am so lucky to be touched by your love.



Sunday, April 19, 2015

Breathe

Breathe...  

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Longing

My karma must be burned. I think that most of us must burn it. The grace of my guru fills my being with the constant heat required, and the impurities rise up on the flames and are burned.

My karmas and samskaras, my life of malas and of gunas, it all goes into this heat of grace and burns so high, higher because by their nature the karmas are made personal, I lived them as my truth, I became attached to them and then fought with them when I thought I had to become free of them.

The attachment is what is burned. The false belief any of that had anything to do with who I am, that it happened to me.

I did not see it coming... I have burned in so many different ways at different times, and I have become so much more free, and my mind so much more under my control.

I did not see it coming... my fire now isn't all about the past, burning the enslavement of limited understanding.

My fire has become about longing. All day, all night, my whole body aches for God. I see God physically manifest in the things that catch my eye and it rends me, I feel myself hit my knees inside again and again, over and over. I am crying, there is no relief.

I catch a glimpse of a photo of a man my age, someone from a TV series I watch, and in the photo he appears to be looking right at me. He is full of purpose, there is no hesitation. I am transfixed.

I am about to be possessed, my suffering's perfect answer, a match in this world at last. My fires answered, I will be sated.

Only in my mind. There is no relief. None.


I am burning, burning for you God. The belief in separation is a burden, a deep wound. It is unbearable; do not fault me for hiding from it when I can, however I can. Because to embody it is excruciating.

This is all about God, dear reader. Most of us end up this way. I hope this doesn't put your sadhana back by a lifetime or two. I can still laugh.

(You and I who are paramashiva, one without second... different mirrors of the same image).



Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Ow ow ow





Ow... ow... ow... ow... I'm on fire!

Anava mala and a whole lotta shakti. Conflagration. Incandescence. Luminosity.

Ow... ow... ow...





Forever and ever... closer than close



Muktananda and Nityananda


Swami Lakshmanjoo


Swami Lakshmanjoo on the day of his divya diksha

Swami Vivekananda

Swami Vivekananda

Sri Kaleshwar


I always experience a sweet, calming darshan when reading the Sri Kaleshwar email newsletter and visiting their beautiful website.

Sri Mata Amritanandamayi

Sri Anandamayi Ma

Sri Ramana Maharshi

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