you might wonder why you ever hungered for Truth

Do you really want this?  Or do you just want your fluffy ideas about IT to ice your life with sweet pink sugar?  It’s oft been said that the reality of this eyelid-ripping calamity called awakening turns out to be the last thing imagined by the erstwhile seeker.  I cannot argue with this.

When the Beloved gets you by the short curlies dear seeker IT surely will turn you inside out and shake you all about.  IT will sweep through you like a triple-dose laxative.  You will find yourself doing all sorts of unexpected things – things you’d never have been party to in the days when you knew so well what it would be like when . . .

When this savage wisdom enters the lifestream you call “me” IT will re-align anything that’s out of order – dysfunctional, dis-eased – without you having to visit your therapist.  IT will have you performing rituals of cleansing and forgiveness on your knees – yes, you who loved to hide behind the nondual façade and ask but who could err and who could be hurt?  IT will, as my Aussie mates like to say “Rip you in three and plait you.”  To plait is to braid, and Truth has a different twist to your Life skein than you could ever have imagined.

You might wonder why you ever hungered for Truth.  You might even furtively look for a way out.  But Truth’s flow is a one way surge and there are no exits.

Be very sure you really want this.  If you do, be ready to lose everything you think you are and IT is.  If that sounds extreme, you aren’t ready for Truth’s embrace and for the sweet peace that truly “passeth all understanding.”  Which is no problem at all, because whatever you are ready for is the play of Creation, creating.  To Truth, you see, it makes no difference at all.  The dance goes on regardless.

~ miriam louisa

Note – Truth/IT/Beloved/Creation all refer to the same ineffability in this post.

.

the happy marriage of heart and mind

Beloved Life

Thank you for reminding me
of the delicate ecology
of the heart and the mind.
Like ‘you’ and ‘me’ they are
in Truth
not two
and yet, here they are –
miraculously apparent,
precariously balanced
and so easily
unsettled.

Thank you for showing me
for the millionth time
that the happy marriage
of heart and mind is
Love’s quiet intent –
which doesn’t mean it’s
a fait accompli; it’s so
easily overlooked,
abandoned.

Thank you for reminding me
that this marriage is
sacred ground, the source
of sweet sanity,
home of the beLoved;
yet oh so vulnerable,
exposed, open to every
distraction and desecration.

Thank you for reminding me
to take great care
with this fragile ecology of mind
and heart:
the One I call ‘mine’
and
the One shining forth
from all with whom I appear
to share
this brief
and wondrous Life.

– miriam louisa


the biggest mistake

Sometimes the sweet synchronicity of life is enough to render one speechless.  I’ve commented several times about how Awareness – aka Freedom, Beloved, Reality, Truth, or whatever your pet word for IT might be – excludes nothing, and I mean nothing.  Surprisingly, perhaps, an opening, a softening towards this unknowable essence seems to relax one’s default defenses and allow some pretty challenging stuff to surface.  Not that it must be ‘dealt with’ or analyzed or healed or anything – that doesn’t occur to one. The stuff comes up, it’s allowed – without a story unfolding – tears flow or not, and it all vaporizes.  It can be heavy, but Awareness remains unmoved.

What changes, in terms of one’s experience, is this: the relationship with what arises from within, or what is dealt from without, is radically different.  Suffering simply doesn’t occur, because there are no preferences being trotted out.  And it seems that the more one’s default position is that of quietly resting as pure undivided Awareing, the sweeter, easier and calmer life becomes.  (Well, it always was thus, but one’s been too busy organizing it to notice.)

So I’ve always been slightly mystified by those who claim that this utterly natural state somehow obliterates the undesirable bits of human experience.  They write or speak of attributes like love and compassion and bliss – which they often prescribe practices to develop.  Is it even logical to consider developing that which is already utterly natural? I’m not sure which part of the goose isn’t cooked for such folk, but they haven’t got to the stuffing yet.  So when this little gem arrived from Jax I took out my cheering pompoms and did a little dance.  No, I wasn’t photographed – unseemly for a woman of a certain age … chuckles …

But the biggest mistake that almost all practitioners and teachers make is to think that when one is in Awareness, that one will have a pleasurable, peaceful, spacious state free of uncomfortable emotions, ego and confused thoughts.

Actually Awareness has no content of its “own”.  It is not bliss. It is not clarity.  It is not love.  It is not peace.  It is not compassion.  But it is present in all of those as well as every other possible experience equally.
~ Jackson Peterson

Speaking of women of a certain age, I can’t resist sharing a tit-bit from my favorite stand-up comic of the nonduality circus – wideawake Viki Woodyard. Vicki is someone who knows a great deal about the kind of tough cards life can deal. But she grabs the chocolates and scribbles on:

Today I have eaten sugar again and again. Why? Because it is there; heaped on the kitchen counter are a marzipan Yule Pig, a Mozart Piano Bar, a chocolate Santa, a coconut wreath, Godiva Peppermint Truffles and Gems, Lindt Truffles, Dove Chocolates, A Smore wrapped in cellophane and a little box of Jelly Belly Bean Boozles. These feature jelly beans with the auspicious titles of Skunk Spray, Pencil Shavings, Canned Dog Food, Barf and yes, my favorite, Baby Wipes.

I look in the mirror and see a pasty face with a terrible haircut. See a woman who has recently been crying and not becomingly. Is this the girl that started out on her spiritual quest determined to find the meaning of life. That slender sylph that had dark hair and naturally arched eyebrows. Look again. She is now squarely in her sixties, a writer coming into her own at an alarmingly advanced age. She is usually frank, truthful and edgy. Couple that with graceful, simple and tender and you have a fraction of what it was to be married to said writer. Nothing I would wish on anybody. Nevertheless, someone is looking down on me with love and hoping I will find my way to being a real writer one day soon. What does he know, sitting up there on his fluffy white cloud? The guy needs a Bean Boozle if you ask me. I still have a Rotten Egg and a Booger left. If that won’t entice him to come back down here on earth, I don’t know what will.
~Vicki Woodyard

 


It’s gotta be the ultimate Reality check, you know:  can you recognize the Truth in a barf or a booger?


thank you, Beloved, for loving me

Beloved Life

I thank you for this day called Christ-mass
that brings me a yearly reminder of
what it means to be innocently human,
to be the world without a center

to be born anew in humility and childlike wonder,
to be unafraid of things that go moo in the dark,
to trust utterly that Mother who is my source
my sustenance and Light

to rise from my habitude, however apparently binding
and follow the bright star of my heart’s longing
until the uncomplicated and obvious is revealed
in the unborn child within

to set my clever ideas atop a camel in the desert
and with beginner’s mind track that same star,
intent on finding an oasis of Truth that knowledge
and learning cannot reveal

to offer unwrapped gifts that hands have made –
little tokens too humble for a mega store
on the high street but that bring a sweet smile
to eyes that recognize sanctity

I thank you for all the prophets and sages
the awakened ones, the risen ones
the healers and teachers, alive and long gone
who have rebelled and suffered for the cause of Truth
leaving traces of their toil to guide my way

I give thanks for the sweetness
the relief, the body-blessing benediction
that resting in the cradle of Your Presence brings
and most of all I thank You, Beloved
for loving me in spite of
everything

.

~ miriam louisa

.

it’s totally beyond me…

Sitting this morning at summer’s window
wondering
what quirk of destiny’s unfolding
led
to the conviction of separation in
a human mind

How is it possible to so thoroughly
believe
in something (a solid independent ‘me’)
that has never been able to be proven
to exist?

How is it possible to turn this
phantom
into a seeker who desperately
desires
to be free of itself and its stories? (huh?)

How is it possible to
avoid
the in-your-face obvious and
inescapable
truth
that the present presents with
every nano-second of aliveness?

How could anything so
simple
available
uncomplicated
and unavoidable
turn into a mystery, a concept
that would fuel galaxies of
religious and philosophical
thought-worlds?

It’s totally beyond me…

(literally and figuratively)

But it’s bloody marvelous all the same.

.

~ miriam louisa

.

love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly

Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth

That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,

Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us.
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants
To do us a great favor:

Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear
He is in such a “playful drunken mood”
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.

~ Hafiz,  The Gift – versions of Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky

.

“I am taken. I have given myself to love”

If you give yourself to love one hundred percent you cannot know what the outcome will be.

Giving yourself to love is laying yourself bare without knowing how you will be used, knowing that however you are used, you are given to love, in service to love.

Whatever your mistakes may be, however you fumble, however you stumble, if it is in service to love it teaches you something.

You pick up and you serve love even more strongly.

You marry love, and you say, “I am yours.”

Then whatever beautiful temptations go by, you say, “I am taken. I have given myself to love.”

There are moments of extreme difficulty in all lives.

When you really give yourself to love then you are not concerned with difficulty or ease.

You may not like difficulty but it is here.

How is it serving love?

Where is love in this, where is silence?

Where is truth?

Then life is the teacher of love.

~ Gangaji

.

Gratitude to beloved Gangaji. For those living in the Downunderlands, do visit her website for news about her upcoming visits to New Zealand and Australia.

.