Being Love This Morning
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“What am I?” This is the age old question, the question of questions, asked countless times, and every time some layer of delusion of 'what I am not' disappears.
I ask that question again this morning over breakfast in my garden. What appears as an answer is an intuitive sense of the possibility of loving that which I have rejected about myself for so long. Self-criticism, the ancient hobby of my mind, gives way to self-acceptance. I can feel it right in the center of my chest, right where I have fely my self-rejection and judgment. I sit with that. A warmth rises throughout my body. The mind relaxes, becomes still. Then it goes further.
Suddenly I see myself as simply a stream of thoughts and experiences. The sense of the solidity of my body, of a fixed identity dissolves and in its place there is a flow of awareness that somehow projects a body, a life, a whole world. There is no “I” here other than what I am making up from moment to moment. And of course I have my habitual ways of doing that, of creating an “I”, mainly through identifying what I want and what I reject. Both are stressful motions of mind. Both take me out of the Now. Both are unnecessary, because they change or improve nothing about reality, quite to the contrary. They veil from my awareness the perfection of it all in the Now. n So what am I then, this morning? A nothing. A place (and not even that) of mind creating itself and its world out of nothing. A miracle. And in the midst of it there is love, a radiant, pulsing love. That is the miracle within the miracle. It takes my breath away - and it gives me my breath. It gives me the passion that arises when I meet myself in another so deeply that our souls become bare, that we see in each other reflected what we are seeking in ourselves – love. That pure love that we are.
It is a love that wants nothing. It is in itself its own fulfillment and praise. It is God meeting itself as a you and a me. Unreal as the “I” may be when seen through the eyes of clear sight, the love we hold is the cause of it all. And that cause can only be celebrated. It is pure worship. Inhaling. Exhaling. All one seamless motion of God in the Now.
It is here that I long to meet you. To see the wonder of the discovery that we are that pure love reflected in your eyes. I must admit, nothing else holds much attraction for me any more. Once you taste that kind of love all other tastes pale by comparison. All other passions are absorbed by that love. Now even the lifting of the teacup to my lips becomes an act of sublime beauty. n And self-criticism? I laugh. What could possibly be off track in a world created by such complete love? Nothing. And the mind becomes still and ceases to seek its old hobby. n I pick up my teacup and walk inside. I wash the dishes. Worship. I sit by my computer to write to you. Love. Another perfect day has begun.
Sri Nisargadatta said:
"Love is will, the will to share your happiness with all.
Being happy, making happy, this is the rhythm of love."
I invite you deeper into this love affair with yourself.
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