Stop - close your eyes.
Ask yourself, "When I'm not busy, not productive, who am I? When I'm not thinking, not moving around, not emotionally engaged, who am I? Instead of looking for a verbal answer, tune in to the space that opens up right after the question.
Yoga Magazine
Monday, January 18, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Oil on Water
"To become who we truly are, to find the soul that is within us, we have to open ourselves up to the journey. Each stage in our exploration takes us to an undiscovered place inside of ourselves. And through this voyage of discovery, we move from darkness into light. Light is the call of our creator. It is the essence of who we are.
To begin any journey in life, we have to start exactly where we are and then surrender to the mystery of the voyage without knowing where it will lead us or who will be at the end of it, only knowing we will inevitably be changed. There is no map on our travels, no compass to say whether the path we follow will be the right one. We just trust our inner voice to lead us to our destination.
Each time we think we have arrived, we start another stage in the journey. In every ending, there is a new beginning. T.S. Eliot explains that what we call the beginning is often the end and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we started from. Every journey, every new stage in a journey, starts at the first word written on a blank page with hope.
Hope feeds our search for who we are. It brings us closer to pure awareness. Hope is the first step we take toward the light. It allows us to trust. In this illumination we are made stronger and our lives become defined by moments that are more powerful than our past, more powerful than our pain, moments that affect us that turn our hearts, that make us more of who we are, moments that make us matter.
Every step we take on our individual journey to find our soul is unique and our own. This is why I write, to discover, to disclose myself. Being a writer is like being a voyeur into parts of myself I never get to see. When I write these parts innocently expose themselves. I become more myself through the words. Writing gives a voice to my soul and in the words I am made free.
Along the way, people wash up on our beaches and we keep them. We grow comfortable with them. We matter to them. And meaningful moments become a lifetime. In the course of the pilgrimage to find my soul, I have discovered a truth. Human beings just want to be happy. We want to feel connected to something beyond our small separate sense of self. Beyond our sorrow, our feelings of fragmentation and alienation, beyond our feelings of fear, we want to feel whole again, we just want to go home.
We all suffer. We all float in the infinite pool of pain that makes life seem meaningless. We accept suffering as an intrinsic part of being human, a catalyst for spiritual growth. It frees us to be who we are. Because of it our deepest injuries become our deepest insights.
The Buddhists believe we suffer unnecessarily because we do not understand ourselves, that through following a path to enlightenment we will find happiness and compassion. Through transforming our hearts and minds, we overcome suffering and live out our true humanity. We heal and become whole. We return to our true self. It takes courage to heal, to be happy, to be free. Transforming our minds with meditaton, prayer, words, is a way to liberation, a way to let go of our old wounds, our fears, grief, anger, our despair. And in this, we free ourselves.
My journey defines my life. I follow a path of quiet contemplation and conscious action, and it is beautiful. And in these moments when my mind is at peace, I understand my purpose. I know I can find my way home. Writing is my meditation, my transformation. I take up my pen and I take my seat in the center of my life and I recover my soul. In the words I am nothing else except who I already am. And I am home.
Remaining true to the journey is not easy nor simple. Sometimes the light and the truth that we seek are physical only in the breaking of our heart. Sometimes those who once were our whole lives bring us to our extinction.
The op_____ teach us that if we live our lives in ignorance, our experience will be like carving in stone. If we have begun to know our own spirit, our experience will be like writing on water. But if we are free, Letting go of old beliefs, turning the page, is not as hard as letting go of hope. I am not afraid to love, I'm afraid to hope for change. I'm afraid to lose myself and the fear is stifling. It is blurring my vision. I cannot see us anymore.
Our lives in this world are like waves in the open ocean of consciousness. We rise and we lie down, we ebb and we flow, but we never stop being. For the ocean is endless and everlasting and every wave is a part of the ocean. We belong to the universe. We are eternal. Even when we are lonely, we are never alone.
Dawn is the only honest time between me and myself. Every morning it passes, it grows in candor, telling me the truth, but the meaning has begun to leak out of my life and I'm afraid I will never be able to to put it into words again. Even the need to write is abandoning me. If writing is like breathing, it is the essence of me, and I will invariably just slip away. I don't know where I am. I don't know if we can ever get back from this. I have nothing left. But if we are free, our lives will be like writing on oil.
I still believe in miracles, in infinite possibility, in the power of unconditional love to heal others. When we see others suffer, we suffer. Through acceptance, love, and compassion, through the gentle process of opening our hearts, we meet in our shared condition of suffering. We are enmeshed. We cannot separate ourselves from them. Our own enlightenment exists with the benefit of others. When we see it through the eyes of our spirit, we see them as healed. Love makes them whole.
Who he is, is magical. Who he thinks he is, is _________. So finally, knowing that his soul will never heal, he slowly slices down the ridged surface of his skin. A moment of soft surprise follows before the dark magenta memories of the past with the flow and cascade of the healing incision.
The thoughts drip like raindrops to the earth's surface stain crimson of the blood of others, like him, whose hearts will not heal. Once I wanted to know the deep rooted truth and expose it to the world. Now I write to discover the sounds of words of the half recalled memory mindful of my own voice. Now I write with a deep hunger to recapture myself. I am driven into the unknown, into the spiral of an uncontrolled force that takes me down, down into the infinite depth of words and the truth of all I am is birthed through the flowing of words. I follow the passion of self exploration into the dark watery chasm of all its potential. I am looking for me. I still believe at the end of our journey, all suffering ends and we become who we really are.
Now I see to begin any journey in life, we have to start exactly where we are."
To begin any journey in life, we have to start exactly where we are and then surrender to the mystery of the voyage without knowing where it will lead us or who will be at the end of it, only knowing we will inevitably be changed. There is no map on our travels, no compass to say whether the path we follow will be the right one. We just trust our inner voice to lead us to our destination.
Each time we think we have arrived, we start another stage in the journey. In every ending, there is a new beginning. T.S. Eliot explains that what we call the beginning is often the end and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we started from. Every journey, every new stage in a journey, starts at the first word written on a blank page with hope.
Hope feeds our search for who we are. It brings us closer to pure awareness. Hope is the first step we take toward the light. It allows us to trust. In this illumination we are made stronger and our lives become defined by moments that are more powerful than our past, more powerful than our pain, moments that affect us that turn our hearts, that make us more of who we are, moments that make us matter.
Every step we take on our individual journey to find our soul is unique and our own. This is why I write, to discover, to disclose myself. Being a writer is like being a voyeur into parts of myself I never get to see. When I write these parts innocently expose themselves. I become more myself through the words. Writing gives a voice to my soul and in the words I am made free.
Along the way, people wash up on our beaches and we keep them. We grow comfortable with them. We matter to them. And meaningful moments become a lifetime. In the course of the pilgrimage to find my soul, I have discovered a truth. Human beings just want to be happy. We want to feel connected to something beyond our small separate sense of self. Beyond our sorrow, our feelings of fragmentation and alienation, beyond our feelings of fear, we want to feel whole again, we just want to go home.
We all suffer. We all float in the infinite pool of pain that makes life seem meaningless. We accept suffering as an intrinsic part of being human, a catalyst for spiritual growth. It frees us to be who we are. Because of it our deepest injuries become our deepest insights.
The Buddhists believe we suffer unnecessarily because we do not understand ourselves, that through following a path to enlightenment we will find happiness and compassion. Through transforming our hearts and minds, we overcome suffering and live out our true humanity. We heal and become whole. We return to our true self. It takes courage to heal, to be happy, to be free. Transforming our minds with meditaton, prayer, words, is a way to liberation, a way to let go of our old wounds, our fears, grief, anger, our despair. And in this, we free ourselves.
My journey defines my life. I follow a path of quiet contemplation and conscious action, and it is beautiful. And in these moments when my mind is at peace, I understand my purpose. I know I can find my way home. Writing is my meditation, my transformation. I take up my pen and I take my seat in the center of my life and I recover my soul. In the words I am nothing else except who I already am. And I am home.
Remaining true to the journey is not easy nor simple. Sometimes the light and the truth that we seek are physical only in the breaking of our heart. Sometimes those who once were our whole lives bring us to our extinction.
The op_____ teach us that if we live our lives in ignorance, our experience will be like carving in stone. If we have begun to know our own spirit, our experience will be like writing on water. But if we are free, Letting go of old beliefs, turning the page, is not as hard as letting go of hope. I am not afraid to love, I'm afraid to hope for change. I'm afraid to lose myself and the fear is stifling. It is blurring my vision. I cannot see us anymore.
Our lives in this world are like waves in the open ocean of consciousness. We rise and we lie down, we ebb and we flow, but we never stop being. For the ocean is endless and everlasting and every wave is a part of the ocean. We belong to the universe. We are eternal. Even when we are lonely, we are never alone.
Dawn is the only honest time between me and myself. Every morning it passes, it grows in candor, telling me the truth, but the meaning has begun to leak out of my life and I'm afraid I will never be able to to put it into words again. Even the need to write is abandoning me. If writing is like breathing, it is the essence of me, and I will invariably just slip away. I don't know where I am. I don't know if we can ever get back from this. I have nothing left. But if we are free, our lives will be like writing on oil.
I still believe in miracles, in infinite possibility, in the power of unconditional love to heal others. When we see others suffer, we suffer. Through acceptance, love, and compassion, through the gentle process of opening our hearts, we meet in our shared condition of suffering. We are enmeshed. We cannot separate ourselves from them. Our own enlightenment exists with the benefit of others. When we see it through the eyes of our spirit, we see them as healed. Love makes them whole.
Who he is, is magical. Who he thinks he is, is _________. So finally, knowing that his soul will never heal, he slowly slices down the ridged surface of his skin. A moment of soft surprise follows before the dark magenta memories of the past with the flow and cascade of the healing incision.
The thoughts drip like raindrops to the earth's surface stain crimson of the blood of others, like him, whose hearts will not heal. Once I wanted to know the deep rooted truth and expose it to the world. Now I write to discover the sounds of words of the half recalled memory mindful of my own voice. Now I write with a deep hunger to recapture myself. I am driven into the unknown, into the spiral of an uncontrolled force that takes me down, down into the infinite depth of words and the truth of all I am is birthed through the flowing of words. I follow the passion of self exploration into the dark watery chasm of all its potential. I am looking for me. I still believe at the end of our journey, all suffering ends and we become who we really are.
Now I see to begin any journey in life, we have to start exactly where we are."
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