Uradiance

This nation doesn't need socialism or capitalism. It needs to unfold its heart chakra. This nation won't be healed by anger or despair, but by moments of wordless gratitude. These are the moments when we see what is already free and open, the moments when we stop being 'left' or 'right,' and just plant seeds.

Surrender is nothing fancy, just unconditional relaxation. Surrender is not a technique, but sinking into the groundless heart of love. What I Am not what I do. There is no business transaction between "I" and "Thou" where I agree to offer everything, and in return Thou givest me bliss. No, friend, ananda is already your surrendered nature. The wave that truly settles down into its Self becomes the sea. O Lord, when I surrender, I will not even say, "O Lord." I will just say "O." Painting: Renoir, detail, Musée d'Orsay

  There is a Way. In Sanskrit it is called "Netti, netti," not this, not this. There is another Way. In New Testament Greek it is called "Panta hen panta," all in all. They are not different ways. Approaching from opposite directions, two mystics met on a path and introduced themselves. One said, "I am not a Hindu, I am not a Christian, I am not a Muslim, I am not a Jew." The other said, "I am a Hindu, I am a Christian, I am a Muslim, I am a Jew." They wept and embraced like long lost friends, saying, "We meet on the same path."

In the land of truth there is only one law: Mind your own business. What is your business? The quality of your heart. All that you know, all that you do, all that you are, depends upon the quality of your heart. Mind the heart and the world will flower, making honey through you. Impose no religion or utopia on another. Just tend your garden which contains the seeds of all gardens. Dear friend, mind your own business. Mind the heart.

Perhaps our flaws and contradictions are the fault lines that draw the shape of our character, and our efforts to erase or improve them actually efface the perfect uniqueness of the person we are. If so, the supreme virtue is self-forgiveness. Collage with my words by Rashani Réa

A Friend isn't someone who listens again and again to your story of suffering, and tells you how important it is. A Friend is someone who listens once, carefully, then shares the beauty of this breath, sweeping sorrow from the heart. When your story dissolves into a smile that floats up to your face from a silence deeper inside you than your memory, then know a Friend is near.

Never doubt that you are who you want to be, because you're not. You're much more. Become the unexpected. Dazzle yourself by stumbling, falling, dancing upside down. Forget your lines. Be opposite, a spiritual juggler feeling sad, angry, ecstatic all at the same time. Celebrate the stain of contradiction on your white shirt. Ride into the wedding on a huge red dog smelling like a Democrat, scattering bankers. That's what Jesus would do. Sense your own skin as lover. Listen to the fool who says, "You've been seeking the One you already are." Attain nobility in the heart-crushing softness of this breath. The green earth kisses a boundless sky through your body. Learn the wisdom of forgetting from a small blue broken egg. Everything has been accomplished. You deserve a caramel apple. So does the worm. Here's the sign of progress on the path - you're not as perfect this morning as you were yesterday.

There has never been a day when the world was not filled with sorrow. There has never been a day when the world was not filled with joy. By means of this breath return to the ordinary. Find perfect sanity in a dandelion. Let the immaculate sun shine at the center of every tear. Collage by Rashani Réa

The shortest simplest path to the Source of all energy, divinity and bliss is to stop thinking, right this instant. Which doesn't mean, get rid of your thoughts, or concentrate against them - for the effort to concentrate against thoughts or to make the mind a blank is merely another concept. It means, let thoughts come or go without Doing them. You are not your thoughts. To witness this is the beginning and end of the way. Just be awake inside, underneath your thoughts. Your woke Being is unbound by any concept, political or religious. You are free, formless, dynamically and forever expanding, yet settled effortless ly in the self-luminous heart, the hridaya chakra. Every nerve in your body thrills with the pulse and vibration of the radiant Sun in your heart, who is the very light of stillness. And each cell of your flesh smiles without a face. Not that you suddenly dissolve into this freedom, as if a state of ignorance has changed into a state of knowledge, ...

"May all beings be happy, and know the cause of happiness." ~Sutra on the 4 Immeasurables What is the cause of happiness? What is the cause of suffering? My life is a mess. I believe I must strive for a state called "everything is OK." This is suffering. My life is a mess, and it's OK, because a mess is all there is. This is the end of suffering. From a mess I came. To a mess I will return. The world is a mess, the cosmos a hot mess cooling down. And because a mess is all there is, it is incomparably pure. We were angels. We longed to be born in this mess. Why? Because only when we collapse into unconditional vulnerability is love possible. Now be a mess, and be happy.

We live in each others back yard. When I throw trash away, where is "away"? Your home, your water, your air. We don't need billions of dollars to grow the bureaucracy. We need billions of little deeds done with boundless Presence. Extend common courtesy to moths and bees. Don't use Round-Up or plastic. Don't eat animals grazed in ruined forests. Plant a tree. Plant another tree. Walk. Saunter. Fund parks. Invest in green businesses and organic farms. Unleash a renaissance of the small and local. Begin with the climate inside you. One silken thread of joy runs through every breath from your belly to your crown. Catch hold of it! Be the fuse that connects a maggot to the sun. Immerse your heart in the fire of silence and purify the earth. Now open your eyes. Taste and see that it is good. Your gaze is the Creator.

A fleeting apprehension of the Beautiful bears more weight than Mount Meru. A brushstroke of our gaze against the last petal of Autumn, sparkle of attention at the owl's lament from a hemlock grove, homecoming to the miracle of a breath. These are the sacraments in the ordinary of the seasons. They stir a depth in us that resonates forever, whereas the contraction of  fear or worry, or the shudder of despair, are momentary shadows external to the soul, with no seed in the stillness of our Being. The soul is Beauty itself, and it is never nourished by doubt, guilt, anxiety or blame. The soul is formed by those small moments when we are deeply happy. Joy is eternal, unhappiness a mirage. Be a flame, rooted in the ground of wonder.                                        ...

It's a privilege to receive a human birth, no matter what color your skin is. It's a privilege to be born on earth, no matter what species you are. It's a privilege to take this breath, filled with atoms that were breathed by Buddha, by Jesus, by Mohammad, by every human body. There is only one breath. There is only one Earth family. Cherish this privilege with joy. Art by Vladimir Ovtcharof