Through the Eye of the Heart

I used to think there was a macrocosm out there, and a microcosm down here. I used to think, "As above, so below," like, there was a difference. I thought there was inner and outer. I thought there was a feminist spirituality and a masculine spirituality, an indigenous tribal way and a European way, an Eastern soul and a Western soul. Everything seemed very complicated, and multi-dimensional. And I was always choosing sides. But I was looking through the shattered lens of egoic mind, and seeing with double-vision.

 

Then I relaxed into who I really Am, breathed down into my chest, and began seeing through the clear lens, the single Eye of the Heart. As Jesus said, "When your Eye is single, your whole body will be filled with light." Human beings all live in one homeland, one kingdom of God. We are all born here, in the land of the body. We may appear in eight billion different colors, but there is only one human race. Each one of us contains the mothering energy of the feminine, and the fathering energy of the masculine, twined as twin serpents, Ida and Pingala, around our spine, which is the Tree of Life growing in the Garden of Paradise. And that garden is neither in the ancient past, or the distant future, or a higher dimension above. That garden is this human flesh.

 

On the tree of life hang seven fruits. It's trunk sends out branches through the body. It blossoms in the pituitary gland, lit with stars in the center of my brain. This tree is what Moses saw on the mountaintop, burning with golden Godfire. It was the tree of his own enlightened nervous system. There is a fiery hand reaching through my body, holding me in its sparkling neurons. How could I hold within my body the hand that holds me? I answer, the same way I give birth to my mother, and breathe the breath of the Holy Spirit that first breathed me, before I was conceived.

 

This golden hand that reaches through my body is the Vagus Nerve, glittering with braided strands of stars. The Vagus Nerve is Laniakea, the super-cluster of galaxies, in which our planet is but a dust mote floating in an outer arm of swirling suns, in a galaxy that is itself but a dust mote in a cloud of supernovae, in the boundlerss body of the dancing Goddess.

 

Please don't strain to see, or visualize, or imagine. Just relax all looking-for and rest in the one who is looking. Let seeing repose in the eye itself, and discover in that closed orb all the light the eye would behold, all the energy the eye would project into creation as the "seen." Now rest even more and sink behind the eye, into the brain's deepest cavern, to discover the diamond blue pineal gland, a spiraled chrystal with trillions of bright facets, each a portal to another mansion, another dimension. Gaze into the seed of all possible worlds, simply by resting your vision in the dark, for darkness is the womb of light.

 

When we rest here, we know what the earliest Christian mystics of the desert meant when they said, "Go into your cell and your cell will teach you everything." We know what Laot'zu meant when he wrote, "Without going outside your hut, you may know the whole world. Without looking through the window, you may see the ways of heaven." We know what Frans Kafka grok'd when he strangely muttered what must have sounded mad to his friends: "You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet."

 

So Jesus taught, "When you pray, enter into your own room, shut the door, and pray to your Father in silence; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly." We need not ascend, or transcend, or astral project, or strive for higher realms. We need only to repose in the glorious hologram of our own heart, in the core of this body, where macrocosm and microcosm, the outer and the inner, are one seamless whole; where Goddess Shakti and Lord Shiva, Christ and Mary Magdalene, the Yin and the Yang are one marriage, one cosmic physiology, one infinite dance of radiant stillness.

  

Artwork: William Blake, Dance of Albion, 1794