The Shaking

This is the time of the great shaking. One of the terrible blessings of the Lion's Gate portal is that what may be shaken falls away, so that what cannot be shaken may remain.

Our personality is shaken. Our emotions, minds, and bodies are shaken. So, thrown back into what is never shaken, we drink from the unquenchable wellspring of pure consciousness.

This nation doesn't need the ideology of the Left or the ideology of the Right. This nation needs to open its heart chakra.

Find the the core of Silence in your hridaya chakra, an unfathomable center without circumference deep in your chest. Then each nerve in your body can vibrate with the music of the unstruck bell. The bell is hollow, yet it vibrates the universe. In Jack Kerouac's words, "It's Springtime in the void." 

The empty stillness in you cannot be shaken. This is not a time of crisis, but opportunity. An invitation to distinguish the changing from the unchanging.

Our spiritual journey is not long. It is simply to descend, through a breath of Grace, from the mind to the heart. How many inches is that journey of a single exhalation? Find your hidden treasure, the Self, not in the angst of division and blame, but in the fragrance of unity. 

The scent of this flower is uniquely your own. Yet in your trembling core of silence is the kiss of pistil and stamen, the marriage of Lover and Beloved, Shiva and Shakti, Jesus and the Magdalene. This is a mystery. You are the flower whose cup contains the pollen of other sentient beings, and all. One human family, gathered round the same ancestral fire, the fire of your heart. Be a single divine sun with eight billion human rays. Touch the imperishable blue sky beyond the passing clouds. You are That.

No mere belief or philosophy, this is a direct experience, attained not by science or politics, but by tapping your original Seed in the stillness of meditation. Nor is this "spiritual by-passing." It is entering the ground, the real, the changeless, in the radiance of the body. For this blue sky is globed in every atom, domed in the cathedral of each cell.

Don't rise to the occasion, fall. Fall inward. Collapse. Enter the catastrophe without resistance, and touch Being. The field of eternal Being is what remains, unshaken. The most fruitful work you can do, is to Be.

Let us dwell in the uncertain and call it possibility. Drink from the unknown and call it wine. Savor a breath of stillness through our most broken place, and call it bread. This feast is far better than a thousand right answers.

I am afraid. I am uncertain. Yet I Am. Just to be is to be a survivor. If only for a moment, let me place no noun after this verb, "to be." Here is what the stars are singing about. Here is what the womb of boundless night is whispering: "I Am." Here is courage. Here is the heart.

Photo by Kristy Thompson