Uradiance

  The love of Christ does not heal the wounded heart. The love of Christ is the wound. Stay open, stay open... Strike the flint of grief against your ancient rage stone. Let that spark start an inferno of love. When opposites kiss at the center of the cross, resurrection happens. The enigma where time begins, where time ends, where Jesus meets Magdalene in a garden of blood-stained flowers.   I know you are a light worker. Now be a shadow worker. Transmute dark energy into fire. Glory be the color of silence, womb of song, last terrible note of Bach's St. Matthew Passion. The sweet binaural dissonance of pain and beauty is never merely one, yet not-two, not-two...   The veil of the temple is rent by a Mystery unknowable to conceptual thought. Only by surrender to the sound of the final dissonance is the Mystery known, the tremor of B Natural in the agony of C Minor, high frequency oscillation of life and death, bu...

Being human is not enough. One must become a human Being. Impeccable in your practice, polish the heart with your breath until it glistens like a self-luminous pearl, the pearl I AM.  It is because we have forgotten to practice the art of Being that we have fallen into black vs. white, left  vs. right, Israeli vs. Palestinian, believer vs. non-believer. Your homeland is not in the East Bank or the West Bank. Your homeland is not Russia or Ukraine, North of the border or South. Your homeland is the heart.  Quite literally, this pulsing organ, in its wilderness of nerves, its vast electrical field that encircles all other hearts on earth, and beyond, here is your Om and your valley and your mountaintop. Here I Am. When you dwell in this homeland, you love your neighbor as your self, because your neighbor Is your self.  Each of us is the unique diamond hologram of one I Am. We are a temple with eight billion windows. But we all have the same sky, and it is ins...

           "Savor every inch of breath in your body." ~Sri Sri Ravi Shankar One inhalation is incalculable abundance. This breath is an influx of wonder that whispers more revelation that the Bible, the Qur'an, or the Vedas. In fact, this breath is the source of all scriptures. Every inspired text, every prophecy, springs from the stillness where this breath is born, and to which it returns. Here, in your chest. To delight in this breath is the end of war. To delight in this breath is the end of consumption and craving. When I savor this breath, my needs are few. When my needs are few, I exploit no one. I walk softly over the earth, tasting every step in the present moment, the green spirit in the moss, the murmur of a tree frog. Walking this way, I am free. In a very spontaneous way, I can live simply, sustainably, without trying, without preaching, without a political party. Wherever I stand is holy ground. I remove my shoes. I do not take this...