Falling

To fall in love is to fall into the space between thoughts. This eternal space is Presence. It is the Self.

Here one needs no romantic partner to be deeply in love. The Self sees a leaf, a hummingbird, or a cloud in pure intimacy. The whole shimmering creation is the Self, apprehending its own luminosity as the Beloved. All is a mirror.

Intimacy is the secret heart of the world, and the Self is the space of intimacy. I and myself are one, yet two, because, in my capacity for Self-reflection, I contain the boundless possibility of otherness, the potency of space between subject and object.

The subject-object relationship in any perception, the I-Thou relationship in any meeting of persons, is a sacramental sign that outwardly mirrors the primordial intimacy of Self-communion.

I can truly say to an other, even a stranger, "We are two, yet one, for we exist in the space of awareness. I belong to you." This is what it means to love my neighbor as my Self (Mat 22:39).

When I first started to experience this, I actually felt guilty about it - guilty that I could experience such deep love in solitude! Our culture indoctrinates us to hook up in dependent relationships. I think this is because, when we are needy and grasping, it's easier to sell us things. But such needy relationships are not true intimacy, because they are not rooted in Self-awareness.

Truly happy people are just as content when alone as with others. In solitude, love becomes self-luminous and omnipresent. Solitude is our "refresh" button, refreshing our sanity. In solitude we discover that we are never really alone. And because w are always full, when we meet another, our solitude overflows.

I sipped the nectar of silence
between my thoughts
and slipped naked
into an ocean of wine.
I cannot keep the secret any more.
Forgive me, Goddess of Night!
The Self is made of sapphire.
It's vast blue emptiness
contains both Lover and Beloved.
Countless amours
between I and Thou,
the Rose and the Gardener,
sparkle from the hollow heart.
Don't even try
to count from one to two
or you'll grow thirsty like me,
drink from your own
astonished breath,
and dance like a fool at the wedding.

Dedicated to the one who is my Gift.