Consciousness vibrates between i and I. From the infinitesimal yearning particle of me, to the boundless space beyond the rim of the galaxies, i expand into who I always already Am.
This play of awareness, as both finite and infinite, is ananda. Bliss is the pulsating paradox that I am ever expanding into my Self.
My so-called 'spiritual journey' has the rhetorical structure of a joke. Christ's parables, like Zen teaching stories and Sufi tales, all have the structure of a joke, with a punchline intended to shock us into Presence.
Moving two steps forward, one step back - and sometimes one step forward, two steps back - is a dance, not a path. The imperfections only feel like tests and failures when we imagine a place beyond, whose Being is somehow better than Being where we are. Yet every dust-mote, every pebble of this winding way, is a pulse of the same unbounded pure Existence.
Embrace each stumble, each loss, each fault and hesitation as the lila-dance of cosmic 'spanda' - Sanskrit term for the wave-nature of creation, oscillating between micro- and macro-. Every step of wayless-ness is both end and beginning, alpha and omega.
By all means, let us strive to attain our goals. That is the game. But we can ground our striving in stillness, root our action in a perfect realization that the goal is all around us, whichever direction we go, even when we get lost. There are no mistakes.
Forgive this mad Sunday morning rambling. These words are not mine. They spilled out of a tiny trumpet of honeysuckle on a broken fence post.