Layers

Layers. Layers of weather. Layers of perception. Layers of consciousness.

Troubled gray clouds of mind overhead, dark green body of earth below, between them a brief opening... Here in the Northwest Winter, a sudden clearing between storms, a gash of blue sky. Ah, it is just as when pure awareness opens between thoughts, the sudden grace of unboundedness, where the mountain of divine Light floats like a feather.

But we are so immersed in the density of our particular layer of consciousness, we think it is solid, we think it is the whole world; only to discover that it's just another husk to peel away. And even when we imagine we've gotten "woke," or arrived at a "higher state," this too is just another husk to peel away.

Yet there are moments when we penetrate all husks, all layers of maya, piercing to the heart's core, which is, in fact, No-Thing at all. Here at the center, we know the Self.

But to "know the Self" implies an object, a thing known by a knower, when in truth there are not two, and there is no thing known.

It would be better to say that we merge into the Self, die into the Self, and dissolve. In the words of the ancient sage Ashtavakra, "Layam vraja: Dissolve now!" For the Self is not a static noun, it is an active verb that ever destroys and re-creates. The Self never ceases its effortless work of expanding, pervading, giving birth to a myriad dancers out of dynamic stillness. This work is the energy, the Shakti, of the Self. The Self is Shiva, and the energy is the Goddess.

What work are we really here to accomplish? It is time to expand our intention. To earn a few dollars? To acquire a few capital letters after our name? To feed a few mouths? All of that is good, and very good, but there is a subter and deeper work to do. To free what has gotten stuck. To dance what has gotten stiff. To glorify Matter by offering the world back into Bliss, her divine Energy.

E = M ÷ C (Energy = Matter ÷ Consciousness)

This world, just as it is, floats inside me. No need to rise above or go beyond, for the sweet scent of transcendental awareness already pervades every boundary, every peel of the blessed smelly skunk cabbage.

The Self permeates matter, and only needs to be awakened, which means to become a grateful heart, infinitely Present.

Now the gentlest breath dissolves form into energy, trauma into consciousness, matter into sat-chit-ananda. To conduct this secret alchemy of love, pay less attention to the outer husk, and rest at the core. In the darkest pit, a luminous seed has been sleeping all Winter long.


Photo: Took this yesterday on a walk with my dog, Finn.