What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

Tag: Love (Page 14 of 14)

The Pond

“It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

Love is the greatest source of pleasure and pain ever created by the Universe.  It proves to us we are alive, and gives us a reason to look at ourselves through eyes full of both clarity and clouds of tears.  It sums up the human experience provided we experience its opposite, and such a relationship between love and fear allows us to know who we are.

In Love, we can both experience the suredness of solid ground but also the impermanence of our own foundations.  We can observe the unsteady security of where we stand, and we can easily lose our focus unsure of our own existence.  We can seek the safety of the ground while flying high above the clouds, and once landed seek to fly again.  We can feel grounded while floating among the stars if for only a moment to realize that the ground is nothing more than a figment of our imagination.  The real glory lies here among the stars if only I could shut my mind down long enough to see them.

The mind’s purpose in this seems to be to both define and distort Love.  When I see the mind working, and I ignore it, Love stands as the foundation for my life’s purpose.  I feel Love, I am in love, and I know where I am clearly and without reservation.  When in mindless focus, I hear the voices of the past dictate to me what this is.  The mind creates stories, withholds truths, plays games and creates conditions by which Love is, and surely this distortion creates the suffering that only Lovers know.  We create conditions, we create stories, we play games and then we suffer from them.

The Pond

So, you come upon a pond.  It’s still waters invite you as you feel a thirst within you.  You walk to its peaceful shores and kneel to take a drink.

You pause, seeing its beauty you don’t want to disturb.  Such tranquility, such peace and such beauty are found in this place that even

Photo by Tom Grasso

through your thirst you take a moment to soak it in.  Soon, however, the thirst takes over and you cup your hand to drink.

You break through the surface of the still water creating ripples that extend far beyond where your hand meets the water.  You drink, feeling the coolness of what the pond offers travel all the way down into your Soul.  You realize now how dry you were, and you now cup both hands to drink larger quantities of water.  The ripples are now larger, but you fail to notice because you are now focused on your thirst.  Soon, you are full of the water and you barely notice the pond at all.

Your thirst satisfied, you now realize that you are hot from the afternoon sun.  You strip naked, and dive into the pond without paying attention.  You reopen an old wound on a rock and the once-clear waters are now stained with the blood from this wound.  You are now bathing in a mixture of the pond and your open wound, they have almost become one.  You splash and play creating some fresh wounds in the process.  The pond is no longer a beautiful, peaceful place but rather a place of turmoil and injury.  You lose sight of what drew you here in the first place and become selfish in your need for more.  The once calm shorelines of this pond are now rough with the wakes created by the action/reaction of flesh, mind and water.  The waters once crystal clear are now clouded by the silt stirred from the bottom and the blood from wounds created in mindless activity.

Soon, you are near drowning with exhaustion, and you begin to fear the pond.  You barely make it back to shore when you collapse.

Photo by Tom Grasso

You look at the cloudy waters of this now rough pond and you wonder what ever led you to such an ugly place in the first place.  You dry off, pick yourself up off the sand and travel onward until the thirst returns.  The pond becomes still again, and the silt once again settles to the bottom revealing a calm, peaceful, pristine place.  Another traveler will soon be welcomed here, drawn by the beauty of this place.

A Choice

We all have a choice when we find our pond.  We can’t help the stories our lives have created in us.  We cannot help the wounds we bear from our journey.  We all get thirsty, and we all want comfort.  Yet, we often find our search for satisfaction creates the opposite in those we cherish the most.  We aren’t satisfied with just a drink, we need the entire cup.  We aren’t satisfied with the immersion of our Selves into the cool waters on a hot summer day we need more.  We aren’t mindful of our actions and the reactions they cause.  We forget that the pond has silt on its bottom, and we have our wounds, and mindlessness only seeks to activate both.

We all have a choice to make in our own relationships.  Remember what drew you to her in the first place.  Remember the beauty of this pond and the reflection its stillness provided.  Remember that your story is only important if you make it important; your wounds will only reopen if you push them to break and if they open they only matter if you allow them to bleed.

Drink from the pond with care.  Walk in, but do so with peace in your purpose.  Sit, and enjoy this place and the moment you have.  Allow it to embrace you, to comfort you, to hold you up and offer you a place to relax.  When the winds come and the waters become rough, all it to be without your wounds being opened.  Sense that “this storm too shall pass” and that what drew you here in the first place will return.  Remember that the tears that you shed become One with this pond.  Be still as often as you can be.  Enjoy.

This is the lesson I have learned painfully over the past few months.  I realize that I don’t want to leave this place, that exhaustion too is impermanent.  I love it here, and I want to be here in the stillness and peace that Love provides me.  It’s beautiful here, and in knowing this I can only ask for forgiveness and healing as I wait for the waters to become peaceful again.

There is No Rainbow Without the Rain

The winds subside.  The lightning and thunder move on.  The clouds part revealing an intense sunlight as you step into its embrace.

Through the destruction left behind you see the Love that remains.  Trees stand proudly in their survival as remnants of those left fractured and splintered by the storm lose their grip.  You are faced with a choice.  Do you focus on the wounded or on the whole?  Your choice is yours to make freely.  Neither is wrong, and both are expressions of a deep and abiding compassion.

You move freely in the open air.  With arms outstretched you embrace the sun.  The invigorating smell of air cleansed by nature fills your lungs as you survey the departing clouds in the distance.  You see your family and neighbors actively moving about.  Some are cleaning up, some are helping others, some are simply staring in disbelief.  You begin to walk over to do your part, whatever “your part” means.

You see the grass around you.  It seems to look a bit greener than it did yesterday, but perhaps you are just seeing it a bit clearer today.  Still, nature all around looks more alive to you.  The birds are singing more clearly, the trees look more alive, and the breeze seems to caress your face more gently than it had before.  Is this your own perception or is it a reality?

You smile in the realization that there is no difference.

The sky seems bluer today.  As you stare into what is not truly blue, it dawns on you that “this too shall pass”.  This wonderfully blue, not-truly-blue sky will again became enraged by the clouds it nurses to life.  The winds will blow and the rains shall pour.  Lightning will strike and thunder will roll.  Yet, you sit still observing this storm as you had the blue skies that gave it life.  “This too shall pass.”

A wave of peace flows over your Entirety.  You are content in the mud that now adorns your feet, and in the sweat that now hugs your brow.  You wish you could share this with the others who are busily scurrying around in one dramatic form or another.  “STOP!”, you want to say with authority.  “Appreciate the moment and rejoice in it!”

You blink and awaken to the moment.  You  don’t cater to the voice that wishes to shout.  You go about your business as you cater to the wave that has given you sight.  You smile in peace and with joy in the realization of this moment.  A friend looks at you and shouts, “what are you smiling about?  There’s nothing to smile about here!”

“See that?” you say as you point to a fully-formed rainbow in the distance.  “I love rainbows, and without the rain there would be no rainbows.”

Peace.

Sister Assumpta – The Story of the Monk and the Scorpion

When I was but a wee lad (that’s the Irish in me) there were many difficulties facing me.  Those difficulties translated themselves in tough times both behaviorally and socially.  This was, of course, no more evident than in my school life.

Needless to say, the fact that I was having a very tough time was an understatement.  Yet, through it all, there remained this tough old nun (I went to Catholic school) who was there for me in some of the darkest moments of my young life.  Her name was Sister Assumpta, and although she was tough I have yet to meet a person who offered such unconditional love to me as she had.  In some ways she was a savior to me, and although it took many more years for my savior to arrive, she was there to do her best in guiding me through a time when I was utterly alone.

So, in this post, I wish to honor her, and you, with a story and explanation.  The story is one that she told me during one moment when I felt an intense anger and was suffering horribly from it.  This moment was a harbinger of things to come, but in this instance she was there to try to light a different, truer, path for me.  It is with tears in my eyes with love in my open heart that I offer you this memory in honor of a loving woman who will live eternally in my Soul.

A monk was walking besides a river swollen with torrential rains looking to see if there was anyone he could help.  As he scanned the raging river, he noticed a scorpion struggling to stay atop a boulder.  It was surely going to be swept away as the river rose.

The monk noticed a tree near the river’s bank that offered a sturdy branch reaching out directly over the scorpion.  Without hesitation, the monk climbed the tree, shimmied across the branch, and reached out to grab the scorpion as a large crowd gathered to watch.

Each time the monk reached out, the scorpion would sting him.  Still, the monk persisted until finally, after many, many tries, he successfully grabbed the scorpion and carried him safely to the shore.  The amazed crowd watched as the monk let the scorpion go, staggered, and fell at the base of the tree surely to die.

“Why would you kill yourself to save a scorpion?” someone in the crowd asked.  “Surely you would know he would sting you and you would die!”

“Of course I did,” said the monk.  “Yet just as it is the scorpion’s true nature is to sting in fear, it is my true nature to serve in love.  We were just being true to Who We Are.”

And with that the monk died, a free man true to his Self.

Now, I altered the end a little to more fit my current understanding.  I simply added those seven words that, to me, sum up the moral of the story.  What Sister Assumpta was trying to tell a young boy losing himself in sadness, anger and chaos was to not lose sight of the true Self.  Even then I understood what she was trying to say, but at that stage of my life I wasn’t sure who my true Self was.  It seemed my true Self was the one getting me beat at home, teased at school, and in trouble everywhere.  I simply did not have the tools or the experience to take that understanding and do something with it.  Frankly, those few moments with Sister Assumpta just were not enough to stem the tide of the raging river within me.  I eventually changed from being the monk to the scorpion and back to the monk again.

Actually, in my current understanding, I have always been the monk, the scorpion and the crowd.  Those experiences are “who I am” in this lifetime.  Today, however, I understand I have a choice.  I have no need to protect myself.  I have no need to cater to fear.  I have no need to worship the ideas of who you are or who I am; I simply have the understanding that we are truly no different except in those meaningless ideas.  In those moments when my ego rears up I try to go back to that scared and angry little boy.  I see the smiling face of Sister Assumpta as she grabs my cheeks in love to share some light.  This time, however, I smile back and tell her, “thank you, I understand, and I love you too.”  Those moments of focus are coming quicker to me now as the hold anger has over me evaporates with the ideas that spawns it.

See, the scorpion allowed the monk to be who he was in shining glory.  “No greater love is there than when a person dies for his friend.”  In return, the monk allowed the scorpion to be who it was.  Both allowed the crowd to be who it was.  All accepted and none suffered.

I love you.  I can’t help it.  Even when the scorpion decides to sting (both when I am the stinger and the stingee) I love.  As my mind conjures up ideas about you and yours about me, we both love each other in ways we simply have yet to recognize.  I have to find ways to recognize that love in myself and express it to you.  That’s the light that needs to shine.  If Sister Assumpta tried to do anything it was to shine a light for all to see, and I will be eternally grateful to a woman who can still inspire a warm feeling of love within me.

Anyway, I hope this foray into memory and love had some meaning to you.  I look forward to seeing your light shortly.  Peace!

The Flower Still

I don’t seek to be your lover,
I seek to be your way,
To realize the Love within you,
To see the sunrise, to see the sunset,
To be the clouds on a raining Sunday afternoon.

I have hurt you a thousand times,
So that you could release your own suffering,
Drop it in the pool of Life,
And let it sink into the abyss,
Never to be seen again, yet never gone for good.

You are a Flower,
Powerful in beauty yet delicate to touch,
You bask equally in the Sun and the Rain,
When you are fully bloomed,
You brighten the world with you.

A Flower does not bloom,
Until first it has been tortured with Life,
It must face death to know Life,
It must face itself to know its Self,
And then open Itself to the world.

It’s thorns protect it from many predators,
While It’s beauty inspires them to peace,
It does not protect Itself to continue to live,
It protects Itself so that it may create unending harmony,
And bless us with Its sweet fragrance.

A Flower does not realize Its power,
A Flower cannot see Its beauty,
A Flower cannot understand Its own importance,
A Flower simply breaks through the ground,
A sits still awaiting Its purpose realized.

When you are open my dear Flower,
My heart is filled with unending Joy,
When you are closed,
I focus on the thorns that protect you,
And the drops of blood that rain from my needy hand.

You are You,
Radiance that steals the breath from my soul,
Fragrance that gives pause to my senses,
And beauty that gives purpose to my eyes,
While giving form to the path I am on.

You are here in the Now,
Do I pot you and carry you where I may go?
Or do I sit in silence and just be with you?
I pray your roots are where my feet may touch the Earth,
Allowing our eternal dance of Love.

Flower be still!
Even as you move where the winds of mind may take you,
Do not let those breezes effect the Knowing,
Just allow them to carry the Fragrance of the Love you know,
So that others may know it too.

Be truthful in your repose,
And be humble in your return,
Do not cater to the voices in your head,
But feel the voices in your heart,
And let them out in silent harmony.

Be like the Flower still,
Do not speak your truth, Be your truth,
Do not speak your love, Be your Love,
Do not love yourself, But Love your Self,
A Flower does not speak about its beauty to the world.

Fold upon your Self,
So that you may bloom another day!
Share your Self with the Universe,
For the Love that you release is eternal,
As every part of the Universe shares your sweet nectar.

Now we move, and sing the song we feel,
In Love we share this moment realized,
And in passing we have created an eternity,
You are now me, and I am now you,
In blessing the Flower still.

Lover’s Harmony

You are a whisper my dear,
Softly spoken in this moment’s ear,
A subtle song sung in perfect harmony.
 
Surrender my Angel now,
And forgive this sinner somehow,
And enjoy the sound of a Lover’s Symphony.
 
Do not at once lose your sight,
But please go blind as Angel’s might,
And see my canvas as through a Lover’s eyes.
 
Paint me, sketch me, or better still,
Do with me what you will,
Just love and let be this Lover’s Harmony.
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