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Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Tapasya of the mind

I hold my mind when I am visited by shakti. Intelligence as warmth, as bliss. 

I notice it. I feel a warmth emanating through me, head to toes.

Going against a lifetime of seeking, I stop my mind.

I hold my mind the very second I notice it stirring, surging. I stop my mind when the action of thinking begins; tasting, then starting to talk about a surge of bliss. 

Stop. Hold.

I do not make up a story about my experience, or decide what it means. 

 Hardest of all, I do not to try to augment and shape the event through mental action.

All I know is that these actions have enchanted me, have enslaved me. And this moment of stopping, of self-control, becomes a sacrifice, an offering. The fire of tapasya burns without the outward appearance of sadhana.

My sadhana is the tapasya of the mind.

I am simply alive. I have no agenda. My spiritual apparatus has stopped, settled. It seeks nothing.

No process. No language. Only the immense freedom of holding my being, holding my mind.

My mind is mystified, concerned, skeptical.

My sadhana isn't about making me better at control, analysis, pushing ahead to the ultimate goal. I am over the spiritual tantrum I recently had about this. That is when all action stopped.

I no longer indulge in the sadhana of action. Now. One-pointedness. No wandering. I often forgo the mantra--silence is my mantra.

I challenge myself, and my fears. "This is a big risk," offers my mind, the expert I built up and leaned on all of my life. "Might we waste a human birth if we are passive about our sadhana?" 

I stop these thoughts.

I do not know. I do not know. Freedom.

I hold my mind.

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