When I told Salima that Rod and Clair were separating she
said he would connect again to his essence.
I believe he has. And the kids
are OK. And
here is where the yawning concern opens up before me. Sidi said not to dwell in the past; that I am
a new creation. So I choose to turn
toward a more beautiful picture of who I am and who I am meant to be. And still
the question beats on my chest and skull.
Do we every really change? Do we
ever really breakout of our habitual patterns, our conditioning and our old
buried-deep-down beliefs?
“Are you listening deepest drummer? Are you playing loud enough to be heard?”
The screen clears, doors open wide to an unending sky. The “landscape” disappearing; only cloud and
sky remain. I have been trying to reach
you for days now, months and weeks. And
still the sense that I am alone pounding on the door. Then you hint: I am the door, the arm that
pounds, the forest that surrounds. There
is no real separation here. There is
only this. There is no other; no one to
reach; no place to go. And then I stop,
stop because the idea just begins to penetrate.
Is that it? There is no
other?
I have become very fond of this experience, this witnessing
myself inside my body. This body is such
a miracle. Seems better care of it is in
order. Feeling present to its working
and not sure of the extent to which I have or have not cared for it. It is such a gift to be here in the visual,
tasting world; such a gift to touch and taste and smell and walk and hear and
see, feeling sensation. The other side
of this being possible also: pain,
suffering, loss. But here, now in this
moment, in this physical form, to feel ever so slightly removed, like watching
a river flow or a clock tick. Aware of
the awareness of being, grateful for this moment, this life, this chance to be
in the world, yet to be inside the world, to be the stream of the world. Ah la!
I wish I could say more.
I wish there were more words to us to express the moment, a mere glimpse, not a merging yet.
Just a taste. I long for the immersion principle, but maybe
that only comes when all this is let go.
And is that only possible in the final finah, the final parting? Or is there a state of being in this world
where the complete immersion is possible, where union with Your deep, rich,
sweetness, that place of comfort and knowing familiarity, intimacy beyond what
seems possible, that ever present essence, that knowing beyond belief resides? I am hoping by describing this memory that I might catch the corner of it and pull the whole experience back to me, like the poet who felt the inspiration of a poem coming to her as she stood in the field and running into her house grabbed a pen and paper, and just catching the tail end of the poem as it went by, pulling it back to herself, writing the poem perfectly, every word, last word to first, completely backwards. Maybe I can catch this memory and draw it back to myself, have it unfurl around me and enfold me, like a leaf dropping into a bed of leaves becoming one with the background; not to disintegrate or dissolve but to
remain whole and singular, to become one with the intricate, infinite patterns of leaves, no longer distinguishable from the whole…. One
and only….
