Plunging, Drowning

 

Meditation is not doing, but plunging, drowning in the space of the heart. Here the mind gets saturated with pure Being, so luscious, so succulent, there is no room for thought. Why visualize a golden lotus? I Am the golden lotus. Why seek an Other? I am the ground, the seed, the root, and the blossom.

My silence is a diamond more solid than God. And pure Being is my very nature. I shall not even call this "meditation." I shall call it, "polishing the crystal of existence with one soft breath." 

After meditation, I discover this very same inner jewel at the center of a raindrop, at the petal tip of an iris on a May morning. I see the same unbounded inner sky on the curve of a robin's egg. Ah, tender blue, the color of astonishment in an empty mind! 

If there is a "spiritual path," it must be just this gentle dissolving of the difference, the borderline, between inner and outer.

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