I cannot die, I do not fear destruction. Do I fear suffering? Physical suffering, yes, as long as I am bound to this body. But I am no longer plagued by fear, run or ruled by fear.
Before, everything was organized around fear, and avoiding fear. That was before the karmas got burnt up! In the center of the fire, my purification has been INTENSE.
Now. I am a self of cinders, soaked in fearlessness, a divine crème brûlée.
I am relaxed. I am at home wherever this body happens to be. There is nothing to do, find, get or return to. I watch as my day unfolds, as I perform my dharma.
Where am I supposed to be now? What am I supposed to do today? What exquisitely simple questions. Even a child knows the answer, or is learning the answer. I choose the answer. It happens. I am profoundly free.
On the other hand, I look around at my messy apartment. Woah, this is quite a mess! For a second I spin out. Surely a godly person cannot live with this mess(?)
And yet... Would it be better if it was cleaned up? Yes. Would it be easier to attain "godliness" if it were clean? Yes. Will it be cleaned up eventually? Yes. Then why not clean it, jump on it, wrestle it to the ground and pin it down now? Because inside I can feel, since all has changed, that it is not right to force myself to clean... (wait for it...)
Forcing myself to do things has been how this funny, sad, foolish little me has adapted to a life that gave little and demanded all. It was based on trading inner resources, including hope and happiness, and including pledging these as future resources, for the sorry-assed return of "avoiding disaster" in the now of my life. It kept me from going under, but it was an unsustainable strategy.
It has been a means of living that "believes in suffering," that accepts and chooses suffering as necessary.
I no longer believe in suffering. I see immediately that there is certainly no shakti in forcing myself to do anything. So I hang back. I am on vacation, I say (as the months go by). After being burnt by karma, slicked clean by circumstance for ten plus years (before, during and after living at the ashram), I am laying by the side of the road. The old me is dying, or dead. The almost fifty five year old little me, the one that believed in suffering.
The fact that I am the only one that knows this is a profound example of how alone I am in this life. (Alone with God, that is. What could be better? Nothing at all).
But wait... Meanwhile the new me is waiting, building up the new currency minted for a land without suffering, sweetly treasuring my coin cup, my beggar's bowl each day full of a little more consciousness, a little more light...... waiting for the right moment to stand up, take up my bed, and walk.
It isn't quite time. But I am getting much closer.
For now, I am enjoying my retreat. I feel myself healing. Ahh. I am saturated with the Love and Delight of My Beloved. Our feast of bliss is greater than all the known worlds.
For now... I am on vacation.