Tag: Peace (Page 4 of 4)

Her Eyes (Love’s Warrior Series)

August 30, 2012 / Tom

♥

He could smell the moment he had waited so patiently for. It seemed like a lifetime ago he first had looked into her eyes. Those ivory-circled pools of beauty had captured him, and as he dove deep into their magic he found something he had not expected. He found Love. He found clarity. He found Himself.

His life was not one that suggested these things were possible. He could feel the scars inflicted in his time, and they reminded him of moments when those eyes would not have stopped him. His mind would wander in the moments that had led up to this, to the very moment when he knew who he was. Those wounds would sometimes cause him to scream out in pain. Other times they would cause him to recoil in anticipation. Still others the reaction was a simple reminder that each rose has a thorn and that each pool of beauty had a depth that could drown even the heartiest of swimmers. There was nothing simple about that reminders in actuality, they created the reaction he could not control. Much like the swimmer drowning he would lash out uncontrollably, often attacking his rescuer in the most horrible of ways. He could not control himself in those moments of fear. He was drowning, and he was unconscious of his actions beyond survival.

She had hung on. She would subdue him in these moments. Sometimes her rescue would come in the form of letting him struggle until he was too tired to struggle anymore. In others she would turn her back on him and head to her shore. He would reach out to her in those moments and she would always take his hand. In other times she would fight him and they would find themselves bloodied and bruised but in each other’s arms, safe and secure. It must have been a sight to behold for her as her Warrior struggled with unseen demons and irrelevant wounds in what would be an otherwise serene place to bathe. Yet, she had her own demons and her own wounds, and they often showed themselves in ways he would respond to. He would fight them with her. He would cradle her in his arms in the darkness. He would stand by her regardless of which demon suggested the knife she carried was meant for him. Another moment in her arms would be worth the wound and much, much more.

He looked up from his memory into those eyes. The familiar surge ran up his spine. He had long stopped trying to describe this surge to her. It felt something like a mixture of immense strength and complete weakness. His body would stand firm and his knees buckled. His heart would find a clarity even as his mind became a cloudy mess. His Soul would settle into a calmness even as his heartbeat and breathing quickened. He had resigned himself to a complete inability to describe this moment until he settled on the simple word that seemed indescribable Itself:

“Love.”

Yes, this was Love for him. It was the Kingdom of God he might never have seen if not for those eyes. It was the Garden of Eden he was cast out of when he became ashamed of his nakedness. It was the realization that of the million lifetimes he had felt course through his moments this one exposed the Truth of truths. Love is beautiful. Love is peaceful. Love is the moment you realize you are not the sum of your experiences, you are the realization of the moment. As the surge invaded his Being there were no scars. There were no memories. There was only here and there was only now. Here and now had him lost in her eyes unable to remember that time or this space.

As their hands grasped for each other all ideas of separation vanished as the heat rose within them. He could feel her Soul speak to him and guide him to those places he simply had to go. There were no barriers, no walls, just two Souls merging into One complete understanding. There were no words needed, no guidance required as they explored their desire in perfect harmony with one another. It was here they knew the perfection of the Universe.

They kissed passionately and breathed in each other’s essence as their bodies betrayed the rising desire building within them. The room faded from their awareness as only they mattered in the moment. Clothing disappeared as did any inhibitions their pasts had taught them. They teased each other’s bodies, they played a tune unique to their own set symphony. She would taste him and he her in sheer delightful ecstasy. His mouth became her tool, her’s his as they took each other to places never seen by either. Her wetness surrounded him as she took his hardness in. They would dance a dozen dances to a hundred beats climaxing too many times to count along the way. Finally he would explode as he gazed into her eyes, knowing she had exploded as well.

They would collapse in each other’s arms having given all of themselves to one another. This is where God’s home truly could be found – in the arms of a lover who had given so freely of herself that nothing else existed but that Gift. Her moans were the Angels singing, their movement the perfection of the Universe. This moment was the Big Bang. It was a moment when everything was created and a new Universe showed Itself. As he searched for her eyes she looked into his. Tears disguised as beads of sweat flowed freely from his eyes as his hand found hers. He stared into beautiful ivory-rimmed pools of eternity knowing where he was. He felt renewed, and could feel the surge begin again in his spine. Actually, it had never gone. It was like a constant glow that became more intense as her eyes looked deep into him and pulled out the once-forgotten beauty that resided there. He wasn’t drowning, he was saved, and as he leaned in to touch her lips with his he could sense he had found a place he never wanted to leave.

He was home.

∞

The Liberation of Me

July 27, 2012 / Tom

From the glass door I watch.

The lightning crashes and thunder roars all around while I stand protected by this thin piece of fired sand. I want to step out into the darkness, to feel nature’s fury and take a chance that this life is not yet done with me. I want to leave this place where I feel secure and protected into venture the wild unknown; to get that sense of freedom and knowing that I am alive.

The voice calls and beckons me to step outside. A bolt sears through the sky illuminating what cannot be seen in the darkness. I can see the highlights of the trees in front of this door as the thunder asks for my answer. I raise my hand to the glass and can see the outline of my hand reflected as if a part of me is outside trying to get in. Is the other me frightened? It the other me asking for me to protect him? Or is he asking me to come with him, to venture into the great unknown where the only certainty was uncertainty?

Whichever, I stand alone looking at myself in the glass unsure of the steps I am about to take. I am here, now…not there, then. The reflection of the self I see disappears with each flash of light as the Self I wish to be beckons, knowing that whether I am here or there I am seeking that call of the wild I have heard since the day I was born.

I look around in my box, this place I have built for myself that somehow feels safe.

As the storm rages out there I see the beginnings of truth.

This box is painful. Each piece of timber laid, each window set, each nail driven a testament to pain. In pain I sought relief; I sought security and I built this place to give me a sense of that. Yet, in a storm such as this we begin to see that each piece of timber, each nail, and each shard of broken glass is a weapon against us in the winds of time. Each link of the chain we wrap around ourselves becomes a testament to a lie, and we begin to strangle the very thing we want to be. We weigh ourselves down with a false sense of everything, never knowing what we are because of the boxes and chains we have forced ourselves into.

I cannot play in the rain if I am chained to this place. I cannot see the stars with this roof blocking my view. I cannot see the world from the summit of a mountain if I keep myself locked behind these doors.

Somehow the wind, rain, lightning and thunder don’t seem as dangerous as this place that is giving me the illusion of peace and safety. Dying free is better than living under the burden of these things. I want to be free and enjoy this lightness of being. I want to dance in her arms with the rain drenching us. I want to hear her song in the wind, feel her power in the natural state we are in. I need to break free if I am ever going to get those things I want the most; those things I see when my mind is still and my heart is open. I need to shatter the glass door so the storm can envelop all of this so that I can never return here.

I pick up the hammer I have used so many times before in building this place. It brings back memories I don’t wish to have. I stare at it, wondering where I ever found such a tool, and can’t remember when I ever picked it up. I don’t want it anymore. It needs to be lost in the storm. I look around and smile. I can’t wait to be free of this place and walking into the unknown. I walk up to the door. I feel a sense of trepidation and relief mixed together in this moment. Soon I will be without shelter. Or will it be the sky is my roof? I chuckle at the thought, somehow knowing…

I believe I will have to dodge the wreckage of my illusions, the debris of my mind as it is consumed by out there.

I look up, seeing the other me slowly raise the hammer with a look of fear in his eyes and determination in his grip. He hurls the hammer both toward me and away from me at the same time. I hear the sounds of glass shattering along with the rush of wind and crack of thunder. One of us ceases to be in that moment of great liberation. I am free as the orange tinted clouds betray the dawning of a new day on the horizon. I cry, I laugh, and I dance…

I am born.

The Pond

July 16, 2012 / tomgrasso

“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

August 24, 2011 / tomgrasso

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.