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.

Embracing Our Humanity

Yes I do carry stuff inside me
My bags are not empty
If you cut me I will bleed
I am sensitive and tender
I feel the world inside this heart
Sometimes I am scared
Sometimes I am so open
I disappear like a cloud
Sure, there has been massive transformation
Some might claim this
As awakening
I am unconcerned with all this
I am human
And I am the void made manifest
There is a me and not me
There is a story of Kavi
And there is an emptiness
Inside which everything happens

Yet still there is this humanness
I embrace my tenderness
Each and every nuance of me
I am a tree, grown gnarled
Bent in a certain way
But never out of shape
There is no shape
To be bent out of

Don’t imagine
You can erase your humanity
It is your grace.

 

No Destination But This

Mind, arising in consciousness
Considers all things to be dual
It seeks completion in
Destination thinking
And applies its belief
To spiritual freedom

You, as consciousness,
Believe the mind’s stories
And in that attachment
Is a grave error

The error
Of freedom as a destination
There is no destination
There is the path
The walking in presence
One step at a time
One day at a time
One month, year and life at a time

When the path becomes
Easier and less rugged
It becomes a kind of destination
But it is still a path
That is walked
There is no imagination
That arrival at some place
Will solve the problem.

Photo by Victoriano Izquierdo on Unsplash

All Things Are Equal

Last night I saw the heavens open
I watched as the sky cried its mournful tears
There were worlds within worlds
Eternity stretched out in all directions
Waving into form and out of form
This bewildering rising and falling
And such a stillness at the heart of it all

This morning I woke up
And attended to the chores
I washed the dishes
And made breakfast
In the simplicity of things.

Photo by Scott Umstattd on Unsplash

Your One True Purpose

We are sent from beyond
To bring heaven to earth
To bring love to the realm of self
To bring the ineffable to the mundane

But we experience the great forgetting
And, although we arrive as innocence,
We soon forget our one true purpose
We fall into a dream
Occasionally we may have glimpses
And momentarily awaken
But soon we are back sleeping

Yet the dream is not satisfying
Despite our great attempts to make it work
Something is missing
Always something is missing
We think it’s us
We think we are doing something wrong

But it’s really a nudge from the beyond
A reminder to remember
No-one, not even the divine,
Can do it for us
And no-one can make us remember
It is in our hands

Don’t let this dream swallow you up
Remember, and stay awake
Don’t go back to sleep

What this world offers is a drop
In the ocean
Until you remember
Your one true purpose
Then it makes sense.

Beauty in Everything

Can you see the beauty
Even in the drama
Even in the horror and suffering

Somehow that has happened to me
In truth I don’t know how or why
I followed no method or course
It was just grace
And the determination to ask questions
And to never settle for mind’s stories
No matter how convincing

Eventually my eyes were scraped clean
And inside everything I saw beauty
And a kind of love that is creation itself
Not as a belief but as something divine
No religion can explain this
Nor any philosophy

Silence knows it
The sweet tenderness of surrender knows it
The wise ones know it
If you look beyond the beyond
And gaze softly into the heart of things
You will see it also
Maybe just a glimpse
But that is all you need

True beauty reveals itself
In just a glimpse
Keep your eyes open.

Turn Towards Life

Again I wake up, heart broken open
Yet now, unable to turn away,
I am compelled to simply remain open
No fixing this, no resolution
No turning away, no righteousness

Instead, surfing the edge of this delicate web

The human experience,
Imbued with suffering, is inescapable
There is a tender agony to all existence
All form caught in the same dance

And loving deeply,
The kind of love in which you lose your self,
Comes with the inevitable finale,
A clause built in to every contract that reads,
‘This is temporary.’

But, my friend,
I would rather love with this openness
And endure the pain of existence willingly
Than turn towards denial and hatred
The suffering of hatred seems agony
And spreads like a disease

It’s not for me
So I will choose
To wake up heart broken open
Again and again and again

Don’t turn away from life
Turn towards life with arms wide open.