Uradiance

In the crystal structure of divine silence, there is always a deeper order of resolution where what was work becomes play, until we rest in that laughing stillness that unfolds the whole universe without effort, and for no reason at all. This is the place to begin a song.

'It's all a reflection,' whispers the moon. The harvest of Presence, an echo of Spring seeds, spent and empty. Light itself a stream of infinitesimal mirrors, quantum silences ringing like a wind chime in the void. So I exist as the touch of another, my soul a friendship, my breath a kiss, my loneliness swallowed up by the sound of a cricket in the chrysanthemum pot.

'Glorify God in your body...' ~1 Corinthians, 6 Don't try to transcend by rising above the body. Transcend by sinking into the body, without effort. Dissolve your mind into this star-clustered host of photons, this inter-galactic hum of atoms, this black hole of unbounded space and limitless information at the center of each proton. Yes, there are other worlds, higher worlds, celestial worlds, angelic kingdoms: they are all in your body. And if anyone tries to tell you, 'I am not this body,' laugh, sing, dance, and meditate.

Ah, today is the birthday of Lord Krishna. He is Shyama Sundara. Shyama means the infinite blue of the sky. Sundara means beauty. This is the birthday of unbounded Beauty. But manifestation is play: true Beauty is unborn. The name 'Krishna' comes from a Sanskrit root that means 'the all-attracting power.' Krishna is what attracts us to the fragrance of bliss, like a bee to a flower. Krishna is the uncreated transcendental Beauty that permeates, yet is beyond, the manifest uni verse, attracting us toward union with Him through hints of beauty in created things. Anything beautiful is beautiful because it participate in the dark radiance of Krishna. The form wafts a scent of the formless sky-blue flower. Music flows from the hollow flute. You could bear that musk. You could be that instrument. Who is Radha. She is Krishna's paramour. Yet who is she, really? The longing for Beauty in your heart.

Don't you understand what happens in the dark? Your breath is changed to fire. Your blood is turned to moonlight. Worm-woven loam awakens as golden flesh. Even your bones respire, the gift of hollowness. The jasmine tree with roots in the sky rains gently on our nakedness, an embarrassment of blossoms. Meet me by the River Yamuna, the stream of forgetting, where it has always been this moment, now. Why do we glisten? Because all things are suspended in the element that alchemists have not discovered: Silence.

News is opinion. Science is theory. World is projection. Mind is shimmering waves of fever bending air. All you can really do is fall in love. Dissolve creation into the fierce and holy Radiance you are. Photo by Kristy Thompson

'Yatha dristhi, tatha shrishti: As you see it, so it appears.' ~Upanishads You spin the cosmos out of your own sparkling awareness and nothing  is not You. Friend, it's time to notice that the world could be a mirror of your gratitude.

Here's a secret just spilled by the honeysuckle, wafted to a hummingbird whose wings confided in the thrush, who sang it to sunbeams in a whisper of dissolving mist, where an elderly cedar breathed it to ten thousand murmuring roots: You only have Power when you give it away.

Love - Judgment = Energy. Only when I gave up being 'right' did I discover my true nature - uncaused happiness. Blame drains energy. Love restores energy. Love without blame IS energy. The entire universe is created out of This. Om Tat Sat. I am not talking about a philosophy to believe or disbelieve, I am talking about the golden sunlight inside every breath. Temporarily, this energy may take the appearance of anger, or sorrow, or intense passion, or intense pain. So what? Breathe it down to the bone, down to the darkest marrow of light. When we are perfectly empty, we discover that it's all pure love, a radiant golden void. Then 'Christianity' does not exist. 'Buddhism' does not exist. 'Islam' does not exist. 'East' and 'West' do not exist. 'Socialism' and 'Capitalism' do not exist. These are only thoughts, abstractions, superimposed by the mind upon the dance of energy. In this dance, countless so...

My words with collage by Rashani Réa; click image to enlarge.

Don't pray to be One. Pray to be Two. The prayer of a curve surrendered to its asymptote. Seek infinite nearness. May there ever be a thread of breath between us. That is where pouring happens. Keep pressing out love From musk-scented stillness. In the darker space of slightly parted lips comes a kiss of exploration. O trembling emptiness, resonance of the last note still warm in the flute. Painting by Mahmoud Farshchian

Have you noticed? Nature hides the pearl, conceals her rubies and gold in the darkest vein, disguises diamond in diamond, pricelessness in  what is uncut. Have you noticed? You are the jewel. Let those who don't seek treasure mistake you for a stone. We will meet in secret, buried under appearances, where breath touches breath and this rough world is already perfect.

If your heart would be gifted with compassion, don't resist sorrow. One who calls pain an illusion must still be tangled in the net of twoness. Please honor these drops of bitter honey from my eyes. Weeping is not a dream. Touch the wound in the belly of the master. That is where he was born. Now polish your whole body with the ointment of breathing distilled from dust and bones. Every sigh is a boat of ancestors who stumble onto the island of your presence, thirsting for beauty. Flesh is prayer encircling the emptiness of midnight. Be brave as a black horizon. Ignore the kiss of falling stars. If you dare to gaze through unendurable softness, you will find companionship with strangers and see the countless faces of the unborn burnished by one golden tear.

A simpler way - rest the mind in the heart. Love has no name. The So'ham swan will take you there, alighting without a sound on the unfathomable stillness in your chest, where a mist of secret longing goes up from the earth to kiss the sky, healing every creature who bows to drink from these waters. Cherish your gift. Greet this breath as a golden flame consuming every thought. What burns you away completely, you become. The last line of the poem became the subtitle of the book I recently published with artist Rashani Réa. So'ham is the ancient breath-mantra of Advaita meditation, meaning, "He I am." The early treatise on Christian meditation, The Philokalia, and the ancient Yogic text, Vijnana Bhairava, give exactly the same instruction: "Place the mind in the heart."