An Embodied Truth Called Love

Listen, if the heart does not open
There has been no real awakening
Only understanding
And understanding is not enough
It’s only part of the picture

It’s when understanding falls into
The heart’s chamber
And meet’s life’s wounds and sorrows
That transformation happens

All the understanding in the world
Does not transform you
First you may understand
But then you must drown

Soak yourself in that understanding
Let it flood into your life
Like a cleansing river
There will be pain and tears
And grief and rage
Regret and shame
And even terror
Welcome all these
For they are your doorways
To an unconditional place
And once truly released
All that understanding
Will be lived as an embodied truth
Called LOVE.

Image by Lars_Nissen_Photoart from Pixabay

Unconditional Embrace

Our conflict is between
Our own divisive nature
And our innate truth as union

We arise from union
And learn the ways of division
Conditioned to separation and identity
We forget our true nature

But true happiness and peace
Cannot be found in division
Cannot be found in form, identity
Or anything temporary

Without the greater context
Of our deeper truth as consciousness
We are lost in this identification
And thus we fight
With ourselves and each other

Only by knowing ourselves
By deepening our wisdom
And seeing ourselves in each other
And treating each being and creature
As sacred and the same as us
Can we hope to resolve this conflict

That is the task of the new warrior
To hold existence lightly
With tenderness and kindness
To hold duality, identity and form
In unconditional embrace
Knowing we are not that
But living it fully.

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

Dissolved Into Silence, He Truly Lives

I cannot contain my life within my life
All sense of myself
As a separate person has gone

And I have become everyone
And all things of creation
I am you, him, her, child and dying person
I am the sun and moon, the stars and heavens
Fish, dog and ant
I see the beetle scurrying across my path
And I am that beetle scurrying to the other side
I am all feelings and no feelings
Nothing seems to be mine
And everything is borrowed
I am dreamer dreaming
And the dream
All life appears to emanate from me
Yet I have gone
Nothing separate to call myself

A love, yes
A kind of reverie of love
A tasting of time’s fleeting moments
Everything here and then vanished

Only presence remains
In silence everything manifests
In silence everything dissolves
What, then, is real.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Let Love Meet Itself

I have given up living on the surface
Accepted that I am no longer able
To speak in the old way
All it is now is poetry and beauty
My talk quickly turns to love
And I get frustrated listening
To words of avoidance
And self deception

A word to the wise
If we should meet
You and I
Let it be like this
Two silences
Love meeting love
Emptiness to itself
Let our presence
Say it all
And our mouths
Say nothing.

The End of the Story

The personal story plays itself out
Until it no longer has anything to teach you
You will know that time
Because your personal history
Will no longer have any charge in it
And any moments in present life
That would previously have triggered you
Don’t

They may still have a shadow, a fragrance
Of the past
But they don’t drag the past into the present
And dislocate you from being where you are fully

In that way you are able to meet life and it’s nuances
More openly and effectively

Still life has its ups and down,
Its challenges and concerns,
But there is no leaving reality, no absence

You attend to your story with vigilance
Clarity, inquiry, softness and stealth
Openness and understanding,
Seeing the patterns of the past
As they rise up and crash on the beach
Over and over and over
You see them and you watch them
And sometimes you even get lost in them
But slowly slowly you understand the patterns
And then you get to decide
Whether to keep on abdicating your authority to them
Or you no longer need them

That is your power, your authority, right there
We want our spiritual awakening to happen to us
But we are called to do much of the work ourselves
Consciously, resolutely, with care and compassion
But with unwavering devotion to the task

If nothing else, you become a warrior
While seeking enlightenment, don’t just wait
Attend to what you can, what you must,
This is your power, your authority
It’s not given by someone else
It’s claimed by you.

The Splendor of Brokenness

When you have had enough
Of the vicissitudes of life
Come here
When you have been broken
One too many times
And you are exhausted
And ready to let go
Come here
When all your searching
Has led you to a closed door
Come here
When you are beaten, broken
Bombarded and bored
Ready to give up the fight
Come here

That’s what we do here
We sit in the splendor of brokenness
And discover that which is unbroken
We don’t fix you or heal you
We don’t deny you
Or create a faith
We don’t overcome the problem

We open to the whole thing
We open so wide we become the space
Inside which everything happens
We allow the human experience
With all its pain and suffering and grief
And joy and desire and happiness
Nothing is excluded

It is a great relief
To finally let go of the struggle
And be held
And sit with others
And dance, and laugh
And cry
And sit in the silence of it all

Come, come
A thousand times. come.

The Endless Search

Through dark forests he crawled
Across vast oceans
Torn and broken
He searched and searched
In mysterious valley
And the highest mountains
He peered into space
Open mouthed at the sheer majesty
Of eternity as it circled above him
Onwards he went
Searching and searching
More and more desperate

‘What are you searching for?’
Asked a farmer he met on the road.

’There is something missing,
I feel incomplete
Surely we are all looking for this completion
Isn’t this what drives us?’

‘You are misguided my friend,
This is a myth perpetuated
By the blind and foolish
By the ignorant and wayward
By those who seek power over you
And by your own arrogant mind.’

‘But without this sense of incompletion
What is the point of life
Why would we go on
What is the purpose
There must be something more?’

‘Friend, you are scratching an eternal itch
You have surrendered yourself
To the wrong master
Your own mind and its tyrannical ways
You are now enslaved
And held captive
In a myth of incompletion
Whereby you eternally search
And die unfulfilled.

Give up all this searching
And look with your inner eye
The mechanism of lack
That is at work
Just sit there and see like buddha
For one moment

In this simplicity is the truth.’

We never left the garden
And became incomplete
We went unconscious
And drunk with knowledge
And got lost in thought.