Uradiance

Ten thousand voices murmuring inside you, declaiming, insisting, some angry, some full of tears, all falling silent at the Christ-whisper: "Come rest in Me. I Am the mereness of your Being. I Am the Abundance that overflows when simply existing is enough. I Am your Christ-Self, more You than who you think you are. I am your long-patient lover, the Am who waits for I in the bridal chamber of the heart. Come, drink of my long-aged Wine. Recline at the feast of who you really are. "The canopy I built for this wedding is the sky. The galaxies are chandeliers, hung low to glitter like a diamond tiara for you. Stars pour my light into your cup, singing, "Just as you are, just as you are!" Haven't you understood their language? Light comes from inside . Now is the time to shatter your cup. Let me pour this transforming sweetness on your head, your brow, your lips, your chest. My ecstasy is that you are anointed as I am anointed, in the same stream, po...

"There were three Mary's who traveled with Jesus..." ~Gnostic Gospel of Philip In relation to Christ-Consciousness, every human soul is a Mary. The three Mary's of the Gospel represent three stages in our relationship with Divine Consciousness. First, we nurture the infant Light within, like Mary the Mother of Jesus. We must tenderly care for the Light lest it be snuffed out by the cynicism and hopelessness of the world.  Maturing in our  relationship with the Inner Light, we discover that the Christ is our personal Friend. Like Mary of Bethany, our soul is God's companion on the way. Hand in hand, we walk with God.  Finally, friendship blossoms into divine yearning. The soul is now a Magdalene, transmuting all her energies and passions into Love. The Light within us, as Lover, invites us to union in the Bridal Chamber of the heart.  " In his Breath, we experience a new embrace; we are no longer in duality, but in unity.... All will...

"In the beginning..." If we understand these words, we do not say anything after them, certainly not anything in the past tense, such as "God created heaven and earth." The beginning never ended and has no duration. The beginning ever is, and none of us is even one moment old.

Life is not a pity party. Life is not an entitlement. No one owes me. If I am able-bodied and able-minded, no law, moral or civil, obligates anybody else to take care of me. I must learn to generate my own light, my own energy, my own happiness. But I don't like hearing this. If I am on the left, I would rather hear that my problems are caused by the rich, by the military industrial complex, by Christians, or by "corporations" (even though the vast majority of corporations consist of one to ten people trying to start a small business.) And if I am on the right, my problems are caused by too much government, by immigrants, by Muslims, by gay people getting married. Each side blames its opposite, and this blame only fuels the polarity. No one wants to hear the truth: my world does not change until I change from within. I need to handle my own pain, fear, and unhappiness... Which is why the most radical political act is to teach people how to meditate. Teach...

To overcome an addictive craving, do not struggle. Do not even think about it, entangling yourself with intentions and mental images. Simply repose in the body: in the specific area where the craving arises as desire, or subsides as fulfillment. Every desire and fulfillment of desire is accompanied by a sensation in the physiology. Breathe through this area in your body. Rest at the source of the craving, observing it as energy in your cells and atoms, before it becomes an image in the mind. Whether this sensation is painful, pleasant or simply numb, dissolve your awareness into it, without resistance or judgment. And as you breathe out, offer it all to the Master. I know this not through my strength but through my weakness. I hope you might find it helpful. Photo Credit

God, the Guru, and the Self are One. Love, Lover, and Beloved are One. The Seer, the Seeing, and the Seen are One. This is Sat-Chit-Ananda: Being, Consciousness and Bliss. Yet the bee seeks the garden, falls into the nectar-cup, stains his nose and feet with golden dust. He staggers out and returns to his cell, so laden with sweetness he can hardly fly. There he performs the silent secret work of turning pollen into honey. If bee and flower, pollen and honey are One, if garden and cell, stillness and flight are One, why must the bee make such effort? So that One may vibrate, and the littlest creature delight in its offerings. O Beauty, O Sweetness that is always already here, become a flower and tongue for Me!

Every proton was forged in the belly of a sun. The atoms of our bodies are quite literally filled with star stuff. That is science. The space between our atoms is luminous and awake. That is meditation.

I became free through striking my heart against the stone of this world until a spark arose. This tiny spark set my body on fire. My body ignited earth, wind, and water, until the stone itself was consumed by a widening ring of flames. Now I am a shining black circle that expands at an infinite velocity through emptiness, searching for you. When we meet, it all begins again, because this burning has no limit, no purpose, no meaning but to dance.

Spiritual transformation never happens in a space of ideology, where the mind is distracted by a political, economic, or cultural agenda. Transformation happens in a space where the only intention is to Be.

  I used to say, spirituality is joyful revolt. But there's no need for revolt. Only the marvelous silent explosion of stillness as you realize that all authority is an illusion. Even the authority of "self-control." The Self has no need for control. Awareness is its own discipline, indistinguishable from delight. There is no authority in the universe but your heart's freedom to lov e . This is why gentleness is the supreme power, and moonlight washes away knowledge.

Do you inhabit your body? Or do you inhabit a concept about your body? A concept that was given to you years ago when you were a child, by the passing comment of an older kid, or a parent, a sibling, an aunt, a comment that for them meant nothing, but for you became a prophecy and a curse: "Stop wiggling!" "Fatty boy." "You're too short to play basketball with us." "You're even taller than the guys!" "She used to be so cute, now she looks scrawny." "See what you did, clumsy!" "Looks more like a boy." "Throws like a girl." "Pudgy." "Boney." "Monkey." "Eeeewe!" And ever since then, when you walk into a roomful of people, or show up for an interview, or get seen , you are not whole, you are not warm.You are in exile, hovering outside your form in cold space, gray mind, entrapped in those words, caged in a concept about how you appear. You are ...

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is sweeter than wine. ~Song of Songs There is some kiss we all want, the kiss of spirit upon the body. ~Rumi Jesus loved Mary Magdalene more than all the disciples, and often us ed to kiss her on the mouth. ~Gnostic Gospel of Philip But this is the deeper kiss of the soul and God, an interior kiss that moves the wheel of stars, and turns the world from the stillness of its melting center. Even when our bodies kiss, why do we close our eyes as lips meet? Because, for a brief instant, twoness vanishes in a dark sweet void, neither your I nor mine, but one Am.  That moment is a hint, a shadow, a metaphor of the everlasting kiss, where consciousness becomes perfectly intimate with its Self.   By all means, go on seeking lovers, lifetime after lifetime, fleeting affair after fleeting affair, until the yearning of I and Thou becomes the wedding of I and Am.   In Christ's Breath, we experie...

Glory be to bullshit, that from which blossoms grow, that to which all food returns. I sing the hymn of universal Bullshit. 1% of a seed is the flower, 99% is manure. 1% of a flower is the seed, 99% is manure. And so it goes, all the way up to the galaxies, the green pastures of heaven. I only know this: there's a pretty big Bull up there. Why are you always right and I'm always wrong? Why am I always right and you're always wrong? Both of us wallow in bullshit. The orchids and poppies of religious dogma spring from enormous steaming piles of bullshit. The political ideology of the Right is bullshit. The political ideology of the Left is bullshit. The melodrama of the PHD is sparkling bullshit. The latest scientific theory is the flowering of bullshit. The neuro-meta-bio-physics of the most recent article I have read: pure bullshit. No one has ever seen a theory. Yet we each cling to the theory that appeals most to our insatiable appetite for the self-deluding f...

Walking meditation is a little too careful for me. I prefer stumbling. Stumbling is how my body discovers the next step of the dance, which I could never learn otherwise. And when I Fall, there's even a possibility of learning to fly. So forgive me if I have gotten lost, gone off-trail, or veered from the path. That is where I find Grace.

When I try to put a concept around the blue sky of my heart, I kill wonder, and destroy the very basis of creativity. Why do I need a concept? Words are pointers. When we get stuck in the word, the pointer, it becomes a concept. Then we build a belief system. Our belief is "right" and someone else's is "wrong." There is conflict. World conflict does not arise because some people have the right beliefs and some have the wrong ones. World conflict is the inevitable result of having any belief system at all. Those who destroy our civilization are people who preach out of very entrenched belief systems, whether of the Right or the Left, this religion or that religion. When they meet, they do not meet in the present moment, with silent, receptive, compassionate minds. They meet as clashing cymbals of belief. They do not listen, they just point. We can use words in a completely different way. We can use words to point to the present moment, th...

The instant my teeth crunch into a slather-tart juice-squirting Stayman Winesap apple ripe picked or fallen from a family orchard in October, I am neither liberal nor conservative, young nor old, enlightened or ignorant, masculine or feminine, before or after: I am merely a tongue of joy for the living Earth.

O Mother Lalita, this is all your play, to bring tears and laughter like raindrops and sunbeams out of boundless emptiness. Therefore I surrender to your formless Beauty, without beginning or end, for you pervade everything like the sky, and you are, finally, the blue radiance of my own pure Consciousness. Thank you, Mother, for this breath of dawn.

Isn't it time to pour all the stars and planets into the cauldron of your heart, mix them with the pain and anger of humanity, add rare pungent mushrooms from deep in the smoking compost pile, and drink, drink, drink, until every story they told you is forgotten in the fire of your astonishment? This taste has no name.

Chanting Om, let Earth's blue-green jewel float in the ocean of your heart as you hum the silence that resonates from every particle of your flesh into every other body on the planet, and into the space between the stars. This sound in your heart whirls galaxies. Why not create harmony throughout all the spheres that contain you? This is the ancient way, as above so below, on earth as it is in heaven. Peace.   "When the electron vibrates, the whole universe shakes." ~Sir Arthur Eddington, founder of Quantum mechanics and president of the Royal Academy of Science, also a Quaker. "Adau Bhagavan shabdha rasahih." ~Vedic shruti ("In the beginning, the Lord manifests all through a stream of sound.") Photo: Black Butte, Oregon, at dawn

A true guru does not say "I am the light" but "You are the light." A true guru does not say "bow down to my feet" but "stand on your own feet, wherever you walk I am with you." A true guru does not say "I am the goal" but "I am the door." You won't get stuck in a real guru. You won't turn the guru into a surrogate mommy or daddy. Pass through the guru-door into your Self. The guru will help you transcend the guru. That is the guru's greatest joy. Then you will carry the fragrance of the guru everywhere.

Come up for air. You will never convince me that the attempted coup now crippling our government has anything to do with 'Obamacare' or the budget. It was organized by a gang of white southern politicians who represent the darkest side of the American psyche. This sabotage of the American spirit is the final drama in a racist sub-text that has murmured through American politics for six years. Does anyone really believe this would be happening if the president was a white man? Humans are not motivated by politics or economics: those are superficial intellectual constructs, mere afterthoughts. The real motivation comes either from the awakened heart, or from primal unconscious energies of ancient fear, tangled deep in the body-soul. We choose our love, or we choose our terror. And our terror almost always manifests as racism, sexism, or tribalism. We don't want to expose these energies to the clear air, so we mask them with religious, political or econ...

  A living master transforms us, not because of what they think or say or do, but because of the light that shines from their heart. This light is beyond thought, and it enters our being at a level that has nothing to do with believing. We may sit in an auditorium and listen to them speak. Afterward, a friend asks us what they said, what their thinking is on a certain subject. But we have no answer. We can't even remember. And it doesn't matter. Or if we try to tell them, it sounds empty, like the rustle of old newspapers: because what we received came directly from Being, not from thought or speech. The words were just an occasion for a deeper transmission, a stream of nectar poured from one heart into another, until the cup is shattered and there is only one ocean of love. If we are truly fortunate, we meet a being whose silent radiance is so palpable that they do not have to speak at all. They don't do anything but sit with us, and gaze into our eyes. And that suff...

"Blessed is this human birth. Even the dwellers in heaven desire this birth." ~Srimad Bhagavatam 11.13 "Glorify God in your body." ~1 Cor. 6:20 What if the vibration of every photon in our flesh was a mantra, a sacred song? What if we could return to the source of creation, and meet the silent Singer, through any humble tiny particle in our body, simply by bathing one electron in a conscious breath? Then we would know what it is to be  human, living in a body on earth.

At no time in recent history has it been more important to bring awareness back to the source of creation. We can return to the source through our sacred body, through every atom. We can return to the stillness at the center of the finest particle, for every particle in creation vibrates out of the silence at creation's source. Therefor you can center in the Divine through any humble tiny particle of your flesh. And in doing so, you will spread a vibrational mantle of blessing over the entire earth. At present, we are seeing what happens when a nation is run by a government where our representatives do not practice meditation. They do not act from the power of inner silence: they act from the haze of alcohol and the stupor of anger, which go hand in hand. Our representatives do not need our spite, but our pity and our healing love. Especially those who are so afraid, so stressed, so confused, that they sabotage our economy in their infant cry of lack. Here is a m...

There is a breath that fills your blood with stars. Enormous suns and galaxies spill through the soft spot in your skull, where infancy never quite healed. Spiraling behind your eyes, t he zodiac of perfect night: luminous worlds drip down the back of y our throat, the nectar that oozed before God said, Let there be light.  Whether you name this inbreath "Ya" and the outbreath "Hum," the sacred name in Hebrew; or the inbreath "So" and the outbreath "Ham," the most sacred mantra in Vedanta tradition, the name of God is the sound of the breath. Your belly fills up with constellations, heavens swirl through your sex. Rooted in your muddy toes, the chthonic old gods of the earth swim up your spine, searching for the egg in your heart. Breathe like the mirror of a mountain lake and you'll need no other love, for the night herself is love, gemmed in you as reflection, veiled in silence, whose gaze arrests your desire like a stab of diamon...