Where opposites are polarized, humanity is blessed. I once heard my teacher say, "Heaven and Hell are all around you: take your pick." This is truer now than ever before on this planet. This is the best time to leap out of old patterns and gain liberation from the bondage of duality.
What is the sign of liberation? Perceiving the dance of opposites as a single field of energy, and not as a conflict.
For every hellish event that happens, somewhere on earth heaven is breaking through. The discerning heart remembers that only in a polarized world is the evolution of consciousness possible. Here only can we get unstuck, for when we try to grasp at anything, its antithesis arises.
Only here can we learn the secret: we are the creators. When we identify with the violence and conflict the media keep feeding us, we are co-creating that world. In fact, some political activists would rather sustain conflict than solve it, because the sense of "us" vs. "them" feeds the "i".
But we can also choose the miracles of love that blossom on this planet. Gently favor them, without clinging. Let slip away the shadows of despair. Where our attention goes, there is our reality. Or as Jesus put it, "Where your treasure is, there shall your heart be also."
It takes no creativity to identify with the ugly husk of the old order that is fading away. The sweet fruit is layered a little deeper inside. Look just beneath the surface. Truth loves hide and seek.
Where doubt and fear dissolve, a New Earth emerges within the rough rind of the old. Faith discerns in the luminous albumen of spiritual energy what will soon be born as matter. Spring is latent in Winter. Just so, the future hides in the seed of Presence, wrapped in the chaff of the past. We are invited to love a better world into incarnation.
Can you not taste the honey between the cells? Darkness is the womb of light. Let your heart be a prism to radiate the healing rainbow. Hold up your Self of crystal to the night. Only then will the ray descend.
"Loka Samastha Sukinao Bhavantu." May the whole world be filled with happiness. This ancient Sanskrit prayer is our invocation to ourselves.
We will never solve a conflict until we observe the part of our own self that loves conflict, identifies with conflict, and builds it's "i" out of conflict. To "i"-dentify with the conflict lets us play the victim, the martyr, and the hero. As political activists, we would often rather sustain a conflict than solve it, because our "i" is fed by the sense of "us" vs. "them."
Even the worst human being carries a good seed, a seed that flowers when nurtured with our positive energy. On the other hand, even the best of us carries a vicious seed, whose shadow we project onto others so we won't have to embrace it as the hurt part of our self.
What good does it do to hate people on the other "side"? Better to dissolve the polarity of "us" and "them." Bathing people in our hatred and distrust only brings out the worst in them, but bathing them in the light of our goodwill awakens their better angel. Here's a radical idea: Love your enemies. But I actually think somebody already said that.
Happy Thanksgiving. If you want to be happy, be thankful. If you want to be thankful, just remember that the world is made of very little things. Now breathe into your heart one small creature, one tiny blessing for which you are grateful, and you will radiate healing through every cell in your body. Who knows? Perhaps through every particle of earth, and the ocean of stars.
"To see we must forget the name of the thing
we are looking at." ~Claude Monet
What happens, happens. That is all. A flower of energy in the void, incomprehensibly sacred, with absolutely no "meaning."
The mind makes up a story about it, superimposing its melodrama onto this marvelous dance of unfathomable suchness.
Yet, however heroic or tragic, our story can never be as extraordinary as what actually IS.
What is, disguised in the form the present moment, is the formless infinitude of Being, arising in ever-dissolving splendor as a portal of liberation.
But instead of stepping through the portal, we resist it. We want to change this moment, reform it, and redesign its Presence to fit our story.
Which of course is impossible, because Presence cannot be "fixed." It is always already happening.
Have you ever asked, "What would the world be like if I welcomed this moment, without copying and pasting my drama over it?"
Perhaps Winter would come, then Spring. A raindrop might be a raindrop, shaking the stars. The owl crying in the forest at night, nothing but the mystery of itself. Every breath a mysterious gift.
Sakyamuni Buddha taught that there are four great human virtues: sitting, standing, walking, lying down. All other virtues arise from these four, because right action flows spontaneously from a relaxed and natural body.
To relax is the most radical teaching, the most revolutionary commandment. When we truly relax, without falling asleep, something quite profound happens. All that is compassionate, all that is healing, flows from that restful alertness.
What could be easier than to relax? Yet it is difficult for most of us. And even when we do, we fall asleep. Then we cannot taste our own delicious Being, the source of every virtue.Why can't the body relax? Because the mind is not relaxed. Why can't the mind relax? Because the “I” won't relaxed. Why can't "I" relax? Because the ego can’t say, “I don’t know.”
Why can't the ego say, “I don’t know”? Because "I" won't stop clinging to opinions. Why won't "I" stop clinging to opinions? Because "I" fear Emptiness.
Why am "I" afraid of Emptiness? Because "I" resist death. Why do "I" resist death? Because death is boundless.
Why fear boundlessness, which is simply returning to the natural condition? Because the Infinite loves to frolic and play, and "I" am afraid to frolic and play.
Why? Because to frolic and play, the Void needs a body. Am "I" afraid to be in a body?
Now here is the problem. Spiritual seekers resist embodiment, believing that the body is an obstacle to liberation. They say that, to realize the One, it is necessary to know, "I am not this body." Yet this distinction between "I" and "the body" is the very duality they claim to transcend.
How could those who fear the body, deny the body, and seek separation from the body, ever relax and be natural?
O friend, your body is the Buddha-nature at play. Your body is none other than the Void, and the Void is none other than your body.
Every photon of your body is the sparkling effulgence of ever-expanding bliss. Every atom of your body contains the spaciousness beyond the galaxies. The vastness of your body is not limited by any phenomenon that whirls within it. Your body has no edges; it just ripples out in ever more subtle fractals, touching the most distant stars. Even your pain is a fierce contraction of the formless, calling your attention to the bliss solidified in its sensation.
O friend, if you resist your own body, you fear everything that happens. But if you welcome your body, just as it arises this moment, you are a Warrior of the Dance. You fear nothing.
Relax into your body. Be natural.
Material forms can never be solidifed. Mental concepts can never be solidfied. Yet we keep trying to hold onto our bodies and thoughts.
The body is made of fleeting evanescent particles, ever dissolving into the vacuum. The mind is made of passing thoughts, and even our most cherished beliefs disappear as soon as we fall asleep. Yet humans cling to the body and mind as if they were real, without attending to the firm foundation of this inconstant life: their own Being.
The creature changes and passes away, but the Being of the creature is un-created and immutable. Un-created Being bestows existence on the creature, and pervades each fleeting moment of time as an eternal Presence.
How can the Un-created bestow existence on the creature? Through the breath of love. In the Indian tradition this breath is Shakti, the energy flowing into Prakriti, the material creation, from the Purusha, the unmanifest Shiva-consciousness. In the Western tradition this breath is the Holy Spirit. The breath of Spirit-Shakti intimately partakes of both natures, soul and body, creator and creature. And that is why, even in our own experience of meditation, breath is the link between soul and body.
For too long humanity has been entangled and identified with bodily sensations and thoughts, completely unaware of the source that lies beyond mind and body. Yet the source is more intimate to us than our own bodies, our own minds, because the source is Being itself.
We have been living in exile from what is nearest to us, and dwelling in what is most distant...
We inhabit a crumbling cardboard shack swarming with flies; yet our shack is built on an enormous diamond. We keep swatting the flies and bemoaning the collapse of our hut, without noticing the diamond that could bring us immeasurable and immediate wealth.
This mind is a swarm of flies, this body a crumbling hut. Yet our Being, which we mistake for an abstraction without substance, is in fact the real and changeless foundation of our lives. Instead of wasting our energy grasping at material forms and swatting at mental concepts, let us turn our attention to the very ground of existence. For when we pay attention to it, Being solidifies.
Solid as diamond, Being outlasts and outshines all mental concepts, all material forms. To experience the reality of Being as our own awakened essence, is bliss. No other joy, whether of mind or body, can compare to the bliss of Being. And no other service we do is as useful as the work of awakening. For whatever path other humans may follow, we solidify the very ground they walk on when we touch the depth of Being.
The material world is quite shaky now, the human mind even shakier. It is time for those who hear this inner call to awaken the power of Being.
How do we do this work? Breathe out and let the body rest. Breathe in and sweep the mind silent, until, without concept or form, you awaken the jewel of Self-Radiance. Relinquishing sensation and thought, taste the unbounded stillness of your source, and simply let awareness be aware of awareness. This is meditation. Meditation solidifies Being.
There is no Holy Land. For the whole earth is sacred.
All land is holy because it belongs to the Creator, not to men. No land belongs to any tribe or nation. We are just stewards and pilgrims here.
If you say that God gave you the land, you lie. You have no proof of ownership but an old book and the blood on your sword. God did not give any land to you or me. We took it. We took it in the Middle East and we took in America. We took it in the name of the Chosen People, in the name of the Sword of Islam, in the name of American Exceptionalism. But they are all the same name: imperialism.
We take the Land from God and from the People of the Land. We take it not with the permission of Mother Earth, but with scimitars and bombs, jets and drones. Then we use ancient myths and stories to justify our theft.
But the age of imperialism is over, and so is any religion invented to justify it. It is time to give up the old story and dwell in the Land of Now. For Now is the only space where humans co-abide in passionate neutrality, listening with open hearts.
Your duty is not holy war: not חרם or جهاد, 'herem' or 'jihad.' Your duty is to listen through your heart to the sound of children crying. And your heart has exactly the same access to divine revelation as Moses, Jesus or Muhammad did.
Now is the time to abandon prophecies spoken ages ago in the desert of Palestine, and listen to the prophecy uttered in the wilderness of your own heart. Then you will hear the hearts of all who yearn for peace. Peace is not an ancient story handed down from the ancestors. Peace is always now.
The Chosen People are those who choose to dwell in the holy land of this present moment, the only land where love is possible.
Perhaps you are working through a tough story. A story of loss, victimhood, shame, craving, betrayal, abuse. It hurts. So your mind keeps repeating the story in hope of finding some relief. And you assume, as we all do, that by repeating the story in your mind, and acting it out again and again in your body, you will eventually change the ending...
Yet it never changes, does it? You think the story is over. Then something happens in the world that triggers your outrage. And if something triggers your out-rage, the in-rage must already be there, just waiting to be triggered.
Every time you tell the story, or re-act it out, you get even more chained to the past in an endless loop. This is the wheel of karma.
Is there freedom from the wheel? Yes. This is the Good News. Yet freedom from the past never lies in a higher world, a savior, an esoteric doctrine. Freedom from the past lies in one place only: the present moment.
Your story is a boat of pain, a vehicle of suffering. But please observe: while the story is always in the past, the pain is in the present. That is why, every time you repeat the story, it feels so real. You are feeling pain in the present, through the images of the past, held together by a narrative in the mind.
Now here is the open secret: Instead of repeating the story over and over, just tell it more deeply, and enter its pain. Enter the pain so deeply that the story drops away, and only the pain remains. Then you are in the present, not with any story, but with the living energy of your pain.
Do not resist the pain. Just cease to tell a story about. Breathe through the pain and unlink it from any image in the memory. Feel the pain as nameless sensation. Let it swallow you in its darkest void. This is courage.
If you follow your pain all the way into the void, remaining present to it without a story, something wondrous and graceful happens. And it happens in the Now, without the slightest reference to the past. When you drop the story of your pain, your pain blossoms into pure energy.
Now your suffering flowers into something that is no longer suffering, something dynamic that is no longer stuck in a mental repetition of the past, no longer bound to a story. Your pain is free.
Are you listening? It is not simply that you are free, but that your pain is free! In fact, you are free because you pain is free of its story. You can breathe it out.
Let your pain flower into the sparkling energy of Presence, the radiance of pure awareness.
With every tear, your core becomes stronger. In the midst of grief, feel the silence within you solidify. You are a survivor. You are the inalienable light of the Self. Now breathe your power into the heart of a friend. It's compassion-time. No need to blame others. Just serve others, until you see that there is no other.
Witness the whirlwind. The whirlwind of thought, emotion, and action. Can you find a "do-er" doing it all? Is there an "I" at the center of the storm? Or is the eye of the storm a wondrous silence, the silence of the witness?
We forfeit this birthright of divine silence because we insist on forming concepts and holding points of view. As soon as we have a point of view, we lose the energy of the infinite, shackling our infinite space in a self-created enclosure.
What happens when we cease enclosing space? There is no center. And with no center, there is no left or right. In order to form a concept that we feel right about, as opposed to wrong, we must first create and hold an enclosed space in the boundless space of our own consciousness. We must form a point of view in pointless awareness. Only then do left and right, right and wrong, have any meaning. Take away the point and the boundaries that enclose it, and infinite space has no center to be on the left or right of.
We waste so much energy creating these enclosures, so that we may hold onto concepts, beliefs, opinions. Every time we form a concept, we must form the contextual enclosure that makes it right or wrong. But this is a futile act of consciousness in the infinite space of consciousness. It is like trying to draw shapes in the water of the sea.
The boundaries of a concept are imaginary. Why form them at all? Do you have to be right or wrong? Do you need a point to be to the right or left of?
Infinite awakened space is your real nature. You are the boundless sky. This absolutely still, absolutely clear sky only appears to take shape and move as a mirage. Yet within the boundary and movement of the mirage the sky actually remains formless and still.
Up until now you have been playing the bondage game. The bondage game was the game of creating conceptual boundaries, getting stuck in them, then feeling the need to put them into action in order to break out of them.
But when you finally weary of the bondage game, you discover a more exquisite form of play, a new game: the liberation game.
You play the liberation game by refraining from forming a concept. You refrain from getting stuck in any mind-created boundary. Then there is no need to act out, for there is no concept to act on.
As the player of the liberation game, you are simply vigilant. And as the vigilant witness, you live in constant delight. Why? Because, in the vast space of your awareness, whose very vastness is the nature of bliss, you have inserted no point that needs to be defended. And with the discovery that you need not be to the right or left of any point, you are constantly delighted by boundlessness.
Just keep inquiring, "Why do I need to be right or wrong about this?"
The ultimate activism is to refrain from falling into a concept. Of course, this act of refraining from concepts is not doing, but non-doing, which provides abundant free energy to use in simply being aware.
So as the player of the liberation game, by ceaselessly offering and letting go of the need to form concepts, you are perpetually replenishing your supply of free energy, not as form, but as the unending infusion of sparkling awareness.
The point of the liberation game is constant awakening. This means witnessing the infinite play of energy in stillness. The bondage game was a game about doing. The liberation game is a game about refraining. And the more you refrain, the more you delight, until finally you do nothing and accomplish everything.
The truth is, no one really does anything. The One is simply happening, in countless fractals of its Self.
The winner of the liberation game competes with no one, wins nothing, and has no point of view. She is like the wind moving in the sky.
Existence is pointless. To see this is not to fall into despair, but to experience boundless delight in all phenomena, without judging one as superior to another.
Perpetual delight is not an achievement or a reward. It is merely the inherent nature of the Witness, pure consciousness, who is utterly still in the midst of activity, and utterly boundless in the midst of the world's boundaries.
You are the victor! Now you delight in exuberant waves of form, arising and dissolving in the ocean of the formless, without leaving any conceptual residue in your mind.
This is your work: to bestow your delight upon all creatures as you delight in them. And this perpetual bestowal of delight is love.
Painting: 'White Lotus,' Georgia O'Keefe
There is no catastrophe in the present moment. But the mind, full of past and future, loves to project its anguish into the world, then play the victim in its own melodrama...
What happens to my fear, my rage, when I breathe it as the sacred energy of Presence, without telling a story about it in my head?
This suffering gracefully transmutes into sparkling awareness, pure, transparent as the sap in a scarlet dahlia, and I become available to love.
Yet we still have a choice: whether to know this moment as a motionless explosion of bliss, or the world's annihilation. This mind will desperately attempt to contract the experience of the heart into its outmoded concepts and stories. We will scroll through all the assumptions about time and space we inherited from the scriptures, from Aristotle, from Isacc Newton, from Wall Street, searching for some ratio, some measurement to describe what is happening. But in vain. Then, like Arjuna facing the thousand-headed Purusha-form of Krishna, this mind will panic and resort to its code-red labels: "system failure," "disaster," "the end," and finally: "death."
But all failure comes from the mind. The heart is too big to fail.
At that moment, how will you handle your mind? Doesn't this depend on how you handle it right now? Will that moment be any different than this moment? Plato tells us that philosophy is a rehearsal for dying. Don't ask the Virgin Mary to "pray for us now and at the hour of our death." It will be up to you to handle your own mind in that Last Judgment, when you will judge yourself.
Will you once again mistake the words and images of this mind for your actual Being, entrapping your heart's warm seed in another sarcophagus of stony fear, leading to another birth? Or will you allow a falling, a naked plunge, a surrender into the eternal abyss of the momentary crisis, labeling your fall not "failure" but "grace"?
Do it now! Did you think that meditation was some comfortable New Age daydream? No, friend, meditation is rehearsal for the deathless splendor and terror of eternity. This very moment you can sink into your annihilation. It feels like grief, loss, or emptiness; but even so, let go and plummet through the darkest vortex of becoming. This is real courage. Feel it all, to the last drop of darkness: then feel the silence that feels it.
At the center of your heart, in the deepest loss, is a portal to boundless Radiance. For darkness is not the opposite of light. Darkness is the womb of light.
Prepare now for so-called "dying." It may come sooner than you think; not only to you but to all humanity, as a collective moment of transformation.
The Chosen People choose themselves, when Eternity extends her invitation to step across that threshold, through the portal of the heart, into the Infinite Rose.
Lady Moon, perhaps you are the great Sun's mirror. But there is a more ancient story that says, you are a portal to Divine Darkness. I travel to you on my breath, leaving this world of words behind. Lady Moon, the sound of So'ham is only the name of the gate keeper. I let all wombs reverberate with your silence.
The golden fullness of this Moon
does not limit or condition
the dark mystery of Night
any more than the radiance
of a photon gives boundaries
to the womb-void that bears it.
Devotion to the Master
does not limit or divide
the unity of the Divine
any more than an open door
encloses the space of the mansion
one enters through it.
Nor does the personal form
of the Lord limit or bind
the bliss of the Formless
any more than a drop of sweetness
contracts the ocean into which it falls.
Let this drop become the sea.
Let the sea become this drop.
Don't be afraid to bow and enter
the little door of this enormous tent!
Let the nectar of your Master's presence
be the flavor of the Infinite
in the cup of your broken heart.
Photo: My teacher gazing at the full moon
The energy you shine affects the world far more than the ideas you believe. People who need healing are not drawn to your ideas, but to your radiance. Don't worry so much about whether your beliefs are liberal or conservative, holy or pagan, politically correct or incorrect. Just keep raising the vibration of your light. This is what spreads love.
Between the rising and the falling of your chest is the portal to a marvelous world composed of nothing but fragrance and the music of dying.
The furrow between your nipples was harrowed by this breath; the blossom of earth and heaven's marriage kiss grows there.
Why do you think Gods and Goddesses descend in pairs?
To heat themselves in little quarrels and tiffs, spinning their downy essence toward two-ness, then embracing to dissolve.
The air around your face is a quantum field of whispers that suddenly crystallizes; you quit you work and look up, wondering why your mind stopped.
These visitations come so that your soul and body might remember their long betrothal, and their lifetimes of courtship.
Now you can boldly advance in the art of love toward that ecstatic union where pollen rains from the midnight sky, inebriating your tomb with star-melt.
Deeper than sadness, deeper than sin, the state that you have fallen in...
It is not you who awaken, but every seed in the garden you so joyfully abandoned for the sake of divine hopelessness.
We see the world in a state of crisis when our mind is in a state of crisis. But we see the infinite possibility for miracles when we breathe the breath of Beauty.
Through a few minutes' deep meditation in the morning and evening, as we let the mind repose in the coral heart of silence, Beauty blossoms through our perceptions, as surely as the flower is born of the seed.
Our first response-ability to mother earth is to purify our awareness of her.
I don't agree with the world, and I don't disagree with the world. The world is an ever-turning kaleidoscope of paradox, and paradox is neither agreeable nor disagreeable. Paradox is not there to protest, to reform, or to mold into something that corresponds to our opinion. Paradox is there for our liberation, as we gradually learn to stop clinging to preferences, and to embrace the ineluctable mystery of wholeness. Then we see the awful beatific truth, to which almost every religious and political endeavor is a form of resistance: things are simply as they are. Finally, in embracing what Is, we can love.
Time, with its inherent anxiety, disappears when we stop resisting anything that happens. How could we possibly resist the continuum, the stream of dissolving forms, when we are part of it, and it is our own consciousness?
The flow of happening need not be divided into separate "events." But our mental resistance granulates this gentle stream into "time." The continuum is one, not many. The liquid now is eternity, which is not a pond but a river.
The frictionless pour of the unending moment is true wine; to drink from it is communion. Communion requires no "holy" place, no special sacrament, no spirit apart from the body. Communion is our assent to the ceaseless flowering of the ordinary.
But if the mind insists that circumstances should be otherwise, and things are better elsewhere, then the ecstatic stream of suchness is dammed by an "I," and there is suffering.
Nothing to seek, nowhere to hurry, just be dynamically present. Only now is love possible.
Let a breath of Thou
sweep the I from my heart,
O sparkling emptiness!
If I do not heal
my own awareness,
how can I heal anything
of which I am aware?
The moth folds her wings
on a petal of blue lupine
the raven complains
from the misty pine
this tear kisses
my cheek for no reason
Earth is not purified
like a cloud in the sky
that was never not
Return to the crystal
Bathe the world
Not working more
but needing less
cleanses our water,
soil and wind.
Let a breath of Thou
sweep the I from my heart,
O sparkling emptiness!
Photo by Wang Wusheng, 1984
'Discipline' comes from the same root as the word 'disciple.' In the Medieval Church, the word was associated with punishment, self-flagellation. But originally it meant profound learning, grasping the truth, and receiving pure knowledge. The deepest discipline happens without effort or control, through surrender to the Beloved. That is the discipline of pure freedom.
You can be an activist by planting Winter squash, walking in a fern forest, listening to your children, or smiling from your heart at someone who is lonely.
True activism is to gently immerse your whole astonished body in the river of Presence;
To be moved by the breath of beauty like a golden leaf, and fall right where you are;
To drown in the mystery of communion with whatever creature is before you...
A disheveled crow, a boy in the rain with his shining basketball, a spider web gazing like an eye, a crone at the grocery store, marveling at all the soup.
These are your tribe. They have no political party. This is your native country. It is all sacred land.
Earth is not transfigured by how much you do, but how wantonly and nakedly you plunge into the ocean of this perishing moment.