Tag: Self-Inquiry (Page 2 of 3)

A Million Times Before

July 10, 2013 / Tom

It was like it was a million times before. He would dream of her, feeling her presence in some darkened place at some other time. He could not comprehend the waves of ecstatic energy that washed over him in the midst of his sleep, and he could not forget the pleasure of her touch as the pureness of their union reached them both in the deepest parts of their Being. He would be there, enjoying this love, basking in its sweat, swimming in its essence and wanting nothing more than its eternity.

She would look at him with eyes and kiss him with lips he could not see as she whispered words unspoken into his unfilled heart. He’d stir with a certain pleasure and begin to reach for her with a very human anticipation. In that moment the stillness would erupt into a blinding white light, and he would hear her scream his name as the light washed away the darkness, and that reality was replaced by a new, more human one.

Awakened, he’d open his eyes and look. There was nothing but empty space and crumbled sheets where he would swear he could still feel her. There was no sweat, and he could no longer taste her lips on his own. He’d sigh that sigh that could not be stopped, and would then fall into the stillness that had opened his heart up to so much more.

He was alone but not lonely, wanting but not needing. In the green-hued light of his stilled mind he could feel that presence that had defined his dream. He wanted her, he sought her, and until that feeling would rise up within him in her presence he would not, he could not, stop. Seasons would come and seasons would go, but he knew that one day he would gently hold her face in his strong hands, kiss her lips, and whisper the simple words, “I’ve been waiting” into her ear as their bodies responded to destiny. There, the light within them would explode, and they’d find themselves in a darkened room blinded but never seeing so clearly.

In that night he would dream as he had a million times before. In the darkness all around him he could feel her there, in this place at this time. He would feel the waves of ecstatic energy wash over him, and he would know them as old friends and ride them to their destination. He would feel the pleasure of her touch as the pureness of their union reminded him of their journey; touching them in the deepest parts of their Being.

He would stay there, enjoying this love, basking in its sweat while swimming in it essence and wanting nothing more than its eternity.And like a million times before he would be awakened, but this time there would be no light, no scream, and no empty space. This time, his eyes would open to see her face directly above his, her hands on his face, her eyes glued to his. She would then bend to his mouth and kiss him deeply. She would move her body closer to him until she was on top of him as his hands began to lightly caress her back.

There the dull, aching fire within him would explode and he would feel it as he had a million times before. There he would know. The search for her had ended. He had not paused, and he had not quit. He had stayed true to the unknown course and remained steadfast to the commitment that he would not stop until this fire had been lit by two hands, one his and one hers. As her hand gently caressed the fire she had lit within him, their lips parted as she brought her own to his ear and whispered,

“I’ve been waiting too.”

In that wonderful union between Life and Love there is one simple truth among a host of lies. We cannot settle. When we do we find we suffer while closing ourselves off to infinite possibilities that surround us. Find that feeling, that fire within us and love it. Cherish it. And be it, allowing it consume the lies; those notions, thoughts and beliefs of others that we often use to define us. Learn to trust what you feel in the purest places you visit within yourself. Understand your suffering as a path that can either lead you to your promised land or to an endless loop that only ends when you choose something greater.

Do not fall in love with the body alone. Do not fall in love with the mind alone. Do not fall in love with the spirit alone. Wait and be patient. Somewhere at some time you are destined to meet a torch-bearer that lights the fires within you, all of you. Be there and be present when she comes. Know yourself so that you can know others. Be yourself so others can be themselves. Be impeccable with your word and refuse to take things personally. Focus on the love, focus on the feeling, and accept it as you give it. Expect perfection even in the imperfections.

Don’t be afraid to be her torch-bearer too. Stand tall knowing that you were meant for her as well. Be yourself, and let her fall in love with the truth of you. Do not pretend, but trust her to know what she wants. Then let go, and let the truth set your fire free.

And, yes, I’ll be waiting.

It is the Sunrise

June 12, 2013 / Tom

There is a vile moment in your experience when you realize, for the first time, that she is not the woman you thought she was. The antidote for that poison is the awesome realization that you are not the man she thinks you are. The smile that crests your lips is the Sunrise.

There is that sickening moment when you realize that the one you’ve trusted most knows your every weakness, and is suddenly allied with those parts of you. There is relief in that beautiful moment when you realize that your weakness has always been your greatest strength. The tear that trails down your face is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you miss the ones you love and you’d give anything for one more hug, one more kiss, one more “I love you.” There is comfort found when the ones who love you hug you tightly, kiss you with joy, and scream to the listening world “I love you!” That comfort is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you look back at certain times in your life filled with sadness and despair and begin to feel them again. There is joy when you return to this moment and find it was all worth it. That joy is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you are filled with anger and your thoughts are focused on vengeance and retribution. You find strength when your breath returns and the gates of your heart open widely to let the love return. That strength is the Sunrise.

There are moments when you feel so lost that you are not certain you will ever find your way again. Find peace in the moment you realize just how found you are. That peace is the Sunrise.

Before every Sunrise comes the darkest part of night. Don’t wake up for the Sunrise, wake up for the darkest part that makes the Sunrise explode into your soul. Feel the coldest part of night before the warm light touches your skin. Know the dead silence of night before you hear the songbirds of the brand new day. There is so much beauty in those places we think are oh so ugly.

And the beauty we find? Well, that is the Sunrise.

Peace.

If You Can’t Take It With You, It Doesn’t Mattter

May 29, 2013 / Tom

I have been fortunate in my life to have been challenged by many people along the way. This story is an example of such a challenge.

This is a conversation I had with a conservative Christian woman who was slightly older than I am. It began as a group conversation about the checkered history of Christianity, to which I was offering factual accounts of atrocities created during that history.

The woman walked up to me afterward and said, “I’d really like to continue our conversation. You kind of peeved me a little bit.”

I’m pretty used to that reaction, so it no longer offends me. “How so? If I may ask.”

“Well, you seem to quickly point out the evils of Christianity, but you don’t mention that all religions have such issues in their history. Why not talk about that?”

Without wanting to get into a much deeper discussions of why it seems all religions have such a tortured past, I stuck to the subject at hand.

“I don’t believe that’s true. I don’t seem to remember much history of Buddhist atrocities, or of Buddhism’s evil side. I haven’t read where there were Buddhist inquisitions, or Buddhist crusades, or forced subjugation of people by Buddhists. It may be there, but have you ever heard of any?”

“No, I haven’t. But give it time, Buddhism isn’t that old.”

I kind of blinked strangely at that comment, and she must have seen it.

“Right?” she added.

“Actually, it may surprise you to find out that Buddhism is about 500 years older than Christianity. And it’s killed far fewer people. In fact, the vast majority of people who have died because of Buddhism have died because their Buddhist.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Check it out if you want, but I think you’ll find it’s true.”

“Ok, so let’s go with that. I can also say with some certainty that Buddhism doesn’t contribute to society. At least Christianity does that.”

“Can I ask you some questions,” I went on. ” and would you answer honestly? Keep in mind that I am not asking questions to compare Buddhism to Christianity, but rather want to see if Buddhism contributes to society.”

“Yes, ok, go ahead.”

So, I asked her how many people Buddhist monks have murdered, or of people who have been murdered in the name of Buddhism.

She replied, “none to my knowledge.”

Then I asked how many nations Tibet has invaded.

She said “none.”

So I then asked her how many Buddhists the Dali Lama has ordered to attack non-believers.

She said “none to my knowledge.”

“Then haven’t Buddhists contributed something to society? Isn’t peace something we all can contribute?”

It appeared she had no choice but to say “I guess so.”

Not satisfied with this end, she then started with the clarifiers. You know, the “contributions I mean are jobs, money, income, wealth, prosperity.”

“Can you take money with you to heaven when you die?” I replied.

“No.”

“Can you take your house, your car, or your TV with you when you die?”

“No.”

“Can you take any part of your wealth with you when you pass on?”

“Nope.”

“Can you take peace with you?”

“Yes, I hope so.”

“Then isn’t the very thing that Buddhist monks contribute to society the ONLY thing you can take with you to heaven?”

She again seemed to have no choice but to agree.

“Does it seem strange to you that the very place your faith says you can take peace but not wealth is called “paradise”? Doesn’t it seem ironic to some degree that the Master you believe is the Son of God is also called the ‘Prince of Peace’ and not the ‘Prince of Job Creation’ or the ‘Prince of Sound Finance’?”

She then put her hand on my shoulder, said “thank you” and walked away. I’m not sure what, if any, effect the conversation had on her, but it seemed to confirm in me what I’ve seen since my earliest memory. Peace is the answer, and love is the way to peace.

We all have our own personal Bodhi trees, and for me mine has been the many times I’ve sat simply watching. Watching others. But mostly watching myself. Watching myself in moments of suffering. Watching myself in moments of ecstasy, or regret, or sorrow, or joy. Watching myself when I am challenged and when I am not.

It isn’t easy being a human, or another other physical being on this planet. Yet it can be. We just have to set our sights on that star of Peace and Love and hold our course even when the wild winds blow and the waves try to crack our hulls. We can…

So maybe we need to consider something taught as a matter of life by even the lowliest of Buddhist monks. It we can’t take it with us in our passing it really doesn’t matter. If we can’t hold on to it when we close our eyes for the last time perhaps it isn’t worth holding on to beforehand. Perhaps we have been taught incorrectly, and perhaps each of us, if we listen, can change.

Lessons Learned in Letting Go

May 25, 2013 / Tom

It felt good to let go, to watch her walk freely into the world on the path she had chosen for herself. Her smile was evidence of a just Universe, her life since then proof of something wonderful. Yes, beautiful things can come from the ugliest of places.

Letting go wasn’t easy for a man who loved her so. Her soul spoke to him in a language he had never heard before but, somehow, easily understood. His heart beat out her name not only in the most silent of moments but also in the middle of the storms they had created together. It was their minds, however, that could not reconcile to the music they were hearing.

He had become a willing student of observation and what he observed in the process of letting go was a formidable truth. He could see the tricks his ego would play on him, the anger his mind would create as a method of self-protection. He could also hear the requests of his heart and feel the pulsing glow of a love that was true from the moment he saw her. The choice, he knew, was his. He could listen to either.

What he believed she had done became irrelevant after a while, replaced by a simple belief that all things spoke a truth all of their own. What had bothered him as their minds battled one another wasn’t her, it was the truth that in the divine trinity of human love their minds simply were not meant for one another in this lifetime. He could love her deeply in his soul without hesitation. He could caress her in his heart for eternity. He could not, however, dance with a mind that was hearing a different song.

She was not wrong. She was not at fault. She was her perfect self whose mind danced to a beat of a song he could not hear. Her dance was perfect even if he could not follow the moves, and it was perfect even if he found it impossible to learn. As the dust swirled around him he lost touch with her soul and could no longer hear her heart beating in his chest and anger filled the vacuum. He was angry with himself, falling to the common ledge of self-loathing and doubt. He filled the void in the only way he knew how, and he could feel his mind and body slowly falling into the ego’s trap of fear. He began to resist everything, and in doing so he began to attract even more things to resist.

Life had taught him to observe, and it had also taught him the value of experience. He knew he needed this experience even if he could not say why it was necessary. So, he simply went where the currents took him and watched. He could see what was making him unhappy. He could see where the weakness was, and even if he decided not to change his condition in the moment, he was discovering the value of the experience. No tear was wasted, no moment of anger was spent in vain. He knew that one day he would tire of walking in shoes that never seemed to fit on a path that was either too rocky, too narrow or too boring for him to enjoy.

Sadness was created for the experience of joy. Once we experience sadness we understand the value of joy and we can choose which path we wish to take when presented with the option. This expression we call “life” is nothing more than a series of options given to provide us with experience, and we are the Master of our own destiny; the Creator of our own reality. We often fail to realize our own power as Master and Creator, but once we not only realize that power but observe it in action we begin to see the error of blame and judgment. As he began to observe his own dance and how perfect it was, he began to see hers as perfect too. As he began to see the value of his own independence, he began to see the value in hers. As he began to see the perfection of his own needs he began to see the perfection in hers.

What he discovered was probably the greatest discovery of his life up to that point. Letting go is not about forgetting. It is not about anger, or fear, or hatred. It is not about being wrong, or being right. It is about remembering. It is about love. It is about acceptance.

He had discovered that when one finally accepts himself he cannot help but accept others. He had discovered that when one finally loves himself he cannot do anything but love others. It all began to make sense to him finally. The Jesus of the New Testament did not command us to “love one another” for the neighbor’s sake, he did so for our own. He did not “so love the world”, he so loved himself that he could not help but love the world. All of it. Even the tax collectors. If we choose to see God as “Love”, then the Jesus written about certainly was God’s son sent to remind us that we are, too, Love’s children.

It seemed that what Buddha had found was not the rejection of attachments as a path to enlightenment. Instead, we find peace when we accept everything. That’s real love. Forgiveness is not an act of loving someone else despite themselves, it is in loving yourself despite yourself. Self-love is not a sin, it is a wise mastery of everything around you. Self-mastery is not about discipline, it is about acceptance. Forgiveness is nothing more than an act of acceptance, of love, and soon it all becomes one big non-thing.

It all becomes about selfishness. No, not the type your parents warned you about. Instead, this type of selfishness revolves around the focus on self. He had found that when he was happy he had great ability to make others happy. When he was not, he could ruin the best of moods. He began to see himself as the pebble and the universe around him as the lake. He could create ripples, and he could change the Universe around him with one thought translated into one action. He could ruin a field of bluegrass with one dandelion, or he could plant the daisies that brought the world to life. So he began to focus on self, to become more selfish, because his experience and his Universe depended on it. He began to see the meaningless of his human condition even if he wanted to experience it. He could choose which he would experience and which he wouldn’t, and as he began to change his mind, he began to change his world.

There is great strength in each of us, a great power that often goes unrealized in this experience. We don’t just use only 10% of our brain, we also seem to use only 10% of our power and most of that is often wasted on living in the dreams of others. You will begin to see this the moment you decide to be selfish and to take control of who you are and the life experience you are having. The Sun does not have such great power because it is trying to be the moon, and you will never find yourself in the hearts, minds, or opinions of another.

He could remember the moment he had found her soul again. He could feel her heartbeat once more when he closed his eyes and felt the silence all around him. He could see her smile and laughter in his mind’s ear and he knew everything was perfect. It was at this moment that, with a slight exhale, he let go. Not of her, but of that part of him that held on to the egoic ideal of what should have been. As the smile and laughter of hers blended into a smile and laughter of his own, he knew. He had let go of everything in that moment, a moment worth remembering.

If it is true that one cannot add to a cup already full, he was happy for the experience as he emptied his own. Experience is nothing if never exercised, so in letting go he also found the desire to move on. He had smelled the flower whose fragrance would forever remind him of possibility. A wave retreats to make room for another, and he had found the desire to splash in the surf again even if he would enter the water as if for the first time. With that he entered in the direction of the Sun a place greatly affected by the moon knowing that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Peace.

I Once Believed

May 21, 2013 / Tom

There was a time when I believed in something.

I believed that they were my family. I believed that I was their son. I believed that I meant something to them. I believed their words. I believed who I was to them. I was more than just some guy brought into their family. I believed I was loved. I found importance there, and I found meaning.

I believed that they were my friends. I believed that they liked me. I believed that they laughed with me and at my jokes. I believed they saw something in me even if I had not yet seen it in myself. I believed they had faith, that their smiles were genuine, and that their friendship was based on who I was. I found peace there, and I found importance.

I believed that she was forever. I believed that the scars would heal, that I would be “fixed” and she would forever be there. I believed in the power of love even if I had no real idea of what love was, and I believed in the imminence of forgiveness even if I was uncertain of how to forgive. I believed she could make the pieces whole, and that the power I had found in the beauty of her smile would make the dream real and the nightmare over.

I believed that I was broken. I believed that I needed them to fix me. I believed in the guilt that I felt with every breath, and the surety of failure that was my constant companion. I believed I needed them to show me strength, to prove my value, and to make me something more than I felt I was.

Yes, I believed. I believed I was nothing. I believe I was something the ground would tread on. I believed in the darkness and I only dreamed of the light. I repeated the mantra of weakness as I gave others power over me. I abdicated the throne given to me at birth, and I let others control the kingdom of my life.

I believed in them because I did not believe in myself. I needed them because I did not know who I was. I feared being alone because I did not know the awesome company I keep in myself.

Now, in their absence, in their denial, in their outright rejection I find a beautiful sunrise. I find health. I find peace. I find a strength unimaginable yesterday. I realize they are not gods, and that it is patently unfair to expect others to give me what I cannot give to myself.

Most of all, I find a love for me. I find a joy in being with me, and I find those things make me able to love those in my life without need for definitions, of roles, and of a commitment that neither feels right nor feels necessary. I find the power to be honest not only with those in my life, but with myself. I find a great acceptance of my flaws, of my strengths and of my humanness. I find my center easily because my focus is not diverted out there.

And I am happy. For the first time in my life I feel truly happy.

So, in some respects I am grateful their words were meaningless and their devotion unreal. I am grateful for the tremendous loss that has brought me here. “For I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” I am happy to have sunk to the bedrock of my life so that I could find the truth there. I am grateful for the climb out of the pit, and for the fact that she was nothing more than a hollow promise that did not exist outside of a fantasy. I needed the loss, and I needed the pain in order to discover something far greater than I have ever known in my life.

So, in letting go I have found nothing to hold on to. I have found surety in the bedrock on which I once stood that showed me the beauty around me. The hug of my children. The truth in their words that come in the hallowed words “Daddy, I love you.” The ability to stand up for my truth regardless of what others would say or do. The indescribable feeling of sitting with my children in a “family sandwich” telling silly jokes until we simply can’t think of another word to say. Then we are still, as if on cue, the three of us simply listening to whatever direction the Universe sends us in. We can find great joy in our sandwich, and we can find great joy in our aloneness because we are not defined by any of it.

I have discovered that I am whole, and that I am a perfect being even in my imperfectness. I need not be fixed for there is nothing broken. Yes, I laugh out loud at the thought that I needed anyone to be fixed. Now my choices are mine and mine alone. I no longer need have faith in anyone even though I have found faith in many. I no longer need pretend and fake a smile in the storm of false accusations and innuendo. Let them throw their stones, for my choice is to smile purely into the heart of their anger and speak my own truth regardless of what they do.

There is love here…much love, and it is now directed in the right place. Yes, there is great promise here.

Removing the Shackle

May 11, 2013 / Tom

Ever just want to scream something so ridiculously crazy that the world would just have to sit up and take notice (I was thinking “I love you” would do the trick)? Ever just want to hug the stranger next to you in such a way that they had to hug you back?

Ever just want to not eat until some idiotic wrong was righted in the world? Ever just want to stop alongside the open highway and climb that rock face that is taunting you as you drive past?

Ever wonder where the shells that you hide under were created? Ever wonder why you say “I’ll start tomorrow” the very thing you want to do now?

Who the fuck put this shackle around my leg?

Right. I did. Sure, someone else may have handed it to me. Someone else may have even taught me how to put it on. Yet the fact that I am still wearing it is all my choice. If there is a lock on it, I put it there and I can remove it. All it takes is resolve and the simple choice that I will not be tied to this place any longer. Then I have to actually bend down, remove the chains, and freaking fly.

Put down your chemical weapons, the ones you use to assault your mind and body daily, and dance freely in your insanity. Throw away your bricks and mortar, the very means you use to defend yourself against shadows, and actually risk being free. Stop seeking protection from the “powerful” and realize your own power. Stop giving others the power that you were granted as a birthright into this physical world. Make them responsible for themselves and give yourself the choice to live. Hug your lover. Make love in the rain and don’t stop until you simply cannot move. Kiss your lover in the middle of a city. Hug her in the throes of an argument. Do the unexpected. “Be notorious!”

I, frankly, am sick of being my own version of the status quo. I’m sick of the rules. I’m sick of being told fucking is a dirty word and that there is a process to everything. I’m tired of walking in the direction the signs tell me to, and I’m sick of being told where to stand and where I am permitted to stop. I’m fed up with borders and nationalities. I see much more order in chaos than I do in the mundane assimilation of my soul to someone else’s way of life.

I will live in honesty and truth not because it is expected of me, but rather because it is who I am. I will live debt free because to owe is to be enslaved. Once I have filled in a hole it will never be dug into again. I will relish life in its simplicity, and I will love hard and die when the time is right. You will not scare me. You will not deter me. You may hate me but you will never change me.

I will not fly a flag or worship a statue. I will not follow your silly superstitions and I will not fear the tales you tell. Demand I bend to your lash and I will stick it up your ass. I will not honor the manly creation of God or the Godly creation of man. I will simply experience, and I will climb the rocks I choose and hike the trails that call my name.

There, shackle removed. Your turn.

The Fragrance of Love

May 11, 2013 / Tom

He could smell her still in the depths of each breath he took. The sweet fragrance would cause his eyes to close, bringing her into view in the only place she could exist for him. There he could not touch her, or speak to her, or see the tiny chills run up her back when he touched her but he could feel her presence just as he always had. She was there even though she wasn’t, and he could feel her even though he couldn’t.

The fragrance of love never changes even if the flower that gives it life is born anew. You open your heart like a flared nostril and fill yourself with life, exhaling only with the sheer anticipation of being caressed by that fragrance once again. You hold her tightly to your chest to take her in. You gently brush the hair from her face as you draw the lines on her body that her soul commands you to draw. You are as free as you can be even in the gentle strength of her embrace and you know. Her flesh was made for you as surely as yours was made for her. There you smile and bask in that wondrous paradise we call ecstasy, and you reside in that glorious place we call Heaven.

For those of us who have smelled the fragrance of love we know we shall never forget it. We may never find the flower again that sets our racing minds to rest, but we are purely grateful for once watching the flower bloom and sharing in its beauty. We can still find awe in the rising of the Sun. We can still bathe in the beautiful river whose currents once took us to the very fields of Eden. We can still have the fragrance of love wrap around our hearts and bring us to the greatest joys even in the smallest events. That is the thing about such a flower. It is better to have held it and let it go then to have never held it at all.

Our experiences bring us to different places in our present moment. We may find the greatest of strength in the depths of weakness. We may find the wonders of success in the bleakness of failure. Regardless of where we are, we are all blessed in having the choice of creation, and we are free to make the choice as to which blessing we want to have. I stare at the hand that once held the flower and I hear her voice in the deepness of my sleep; my choice being to appreciate that summer moment as well the winter that froze the pedals in my fingers. Spring is here, and with it a new promise of finding that flower once again.

Some seedlings will blossom and others will not. I am but a searcher in those fields of possibility, dancing among the springtime sprouts and laying on the fertile soil where I have chosen to rest. I cannot pretend, and I cannot be any less than who I am because I carry with me the fragrance of love never forgotten and never washed away. I have known this, and I cannot close my eyes to this truth and pretend it never was. Like the brightest star in the evening sky that fragrance guides me, and although I do not know what I am looking for, I will know when I find it.

For now I whisper a solemn oath only the butterflies will hear as I marvel at the power of the truth I have found. The deafness of the caterpillars who have not yet tasted the flower contrasts with the miracle of flight in those transformed; the worms themselves searching for a place where they, too, may take flight to the heavens above.

There is one truth that remains in a life lived in a dream. My potential lies in the realization of what is possible. What is possible lives in the realization of my potential. You must, my friends, find a sturdy branch on which to place your chrysalis. You must make the holy choice to follow your experience to that place where it sets your heart to beating. You must see yourself as the only obstacle to your greatness, and know that fragrance within you for all of its worth. Dance forever in the fields of possibility and realize that you will never know the limits of your potential until you have created them.

Good night, my love. I will find your shortly in my dreams.

Feel Me

April 24, 2013 / Tom

“Imagine,” she says, “my arms around you, my tongue tasting you, my heart beating next to yours. Imagine the wildness in my eyes, the beast escaping my parted lips as we embrace in the wilderness of love’s sweet creation. Imagine the calm roughness of it all, the sweat pouring from our brows and mixing there, in that infinite field of pleasure we call “us”.

I can feel your body in my arms, my love. I can hear your sweet breath in my ears as you whisper those sacred passages uttered from the deepest parts of your soul. It is not my ears that hear, or my fingers the feel, or my eyes that see. Something else is guiding me toward that part of you no one else can see.

Give that to me, my love. Discard the burrs and thorns you have collected as you made your way here. Throw away the shields you have created to keep yourself basking in the illusion of wholeness. Open up those once-closed arms and let me nestle beside you, in you, around you. Feel that warmth of the Sun rising within you and the waves rushing around you. Feel the sudden coolness as my touch inspires you to find new heights and seek new pleasures. Do not think, but feel. Know your thoughts as passing clouds and realize your feelings are the breeze that pushes them away. Experience this and make it your religion. Know this and worship at the altar of Love.

Forget your body as the water flows out of you. Let go of your senses and know them to be the essence of Heaven making Itself known. Bathe me in who you are, and let me kiss away the scars as you drop your guard forever. Be true to that thing called “us”, and know that there is truth in what you feel in your Mindfulness Reach out for my hands and they will answer you. Claw at my back and hear me beg you for more. Let me taste you in your moment of glory and let me forever be found in those enlightened spaces. It is there that I will shine, and it is there that you will know who I am.

Your Warrior has come for you, and in the bare nakedness of our Beings we have found each other. It is not the flesh that beckons us to climb. It is not the mind that begs us onward. There is no spoken word where we stand. Rather, you will know me in the chills that run up your spine as I trace the contours of your breasts. You will know me when you feel the hardness of my desire enter you. You will know me when you close your eyes and feel the tingle starting as I beg to take a drink.

Truth is found in those moments where body, mind and soul dance together in perfect harmony. Imagine that moment when our bodies scream in pleasure as our souls splash and dance in the puddle our melting minds have created. Imagine the perfect synchronicity of our rhythm as we move together. Imagine the throbbing of our flesh in the moment we see the sparkle in each other’s eye. Then feel it. Feel it with all of your heart and make it known that feeling is the truth. Then the fog will lift and we will see each other, as the there and then become the here and now.

I am waiting for you, my love. With impatient patience I am waiting for you to crest the summit and smile in my direction. I am waiting for the lust you inspire in my heart to become the truth of our souls. I love the journey I have taken and the place I stand now because it all is leading to you. I honor the health and the scars, the wins and the losses, as words written leading to that chapter where you are waiting. I read my story with a smile because you are in it even if I haven’t gotten to that part yet. When I do, the words will flow like beads of sweat from our enraptured skin. We will find it all in that space we call “us” and in that moment we call “now”.

Take this place we are in now and cherish it as the path that leads us to that first real embrace. See the Phoenix rising above the once burning pages of this experience, and see me, the Lion, smile forever adoring the time he has spent with you. Know that as I wrote this your voice was in my mind and your essence was swirling around in the green-hued center of my Soul. Know that I do not know your name but I do know who you are and I will recognize you when the time is right. Know that as the pages turn to that place where our stories combine that we are not writing fiction. Know that I am smiling right now as I can feel you, that unknown hand outstretched as a respite from a journey hard-fought and well-taken. As you read this at some time in some place not yet seen know that I am as sure of you as you are of me even in the throes of complete uncertainty.

Perhaps we have met. Perhaps we have gazed into the starry sky together and felt the pulse of life around us. Perhaps we have never seen each other. Neither of us can be sure, but certainty will be the gift we receive the moment it becomes available. There we will float hand-in-hand in the River of Life, eating of the same fruit and dancing in the wilderness among the trees we have planted.

Be well, my Lover, I am here. There is little doubt when hope becomes real, or when a prayer is echoed in our footfalls and answered in the intertwining of our fingers. Be there, even now, and find me there. Be still and find focus for the mist will burn away in the glow of destiny. Find your truth and stick to it even when the lightning and thunder of a world gone mad distracts you, and when the winds steer you off course know that you can always look within and find that star that will guide you home.

Walk well, and in the most still of moments hear the rush of the ocean beyond what you can see. Rise up and pick the fruit off the trees that bend their branches to you. Take off your shoes and feel the Earth hug your feet. Slowly drop the threads that hide you from me until, as our paths cross, we both stand naked to no one but each other. You will, there, find great pleasure in the tip of my tongue, the movement of my fingers, and the hardness you crave as the ecstasy seems too much to bear. We will bathe in the torrents as the rains bathe the dust from our skin and clothe us in a new reality. Come, know it all and be prepared to scream your prayer as unintelligible words to an unknown god. They will be answered.

“LIVE”

April 3, 2013 / Tom

In the end, none of this will matter.

I will be some old, decrepit shell of who I am now laying on some tomb of cloth and comfort looking back and wondering why any of this mattered to me at all. I will look at my frail arms and wrinkled skin and wonder what I was working toward. I will think about the hours working out, the time spent with my mind buried in a book somewhere and I will ask “why?”. I will look at the coldness of the room around me and remember the memories of making love and of the feelings created in those moments, wondering if it was all worth it.

And then I will smile, and that smile will be the answer.

I will know in the end that God does not exist.

I will see in the end that whatever I thought God was simply was a dream conjured up by the minds of men who simply could not help but try to name the unnamable. I will see that while I was busy worshiping a figment of man’s imagination I missed what God was. I missed Her in the trees as I walked. I missed Her in the songs of the birds and in the sounds of a stream rushing to the ocean. I missed Her in the autumn’s unforgiving coldness and the warm renewal of spring.

In the end I will find that I was so busy looking for life out there that I missed the life in here. I will see that the reason I closed my eyes in prayer was so that I would not look anywhere but within me for the answer. I will find that I am, and always was, the Creator, and that anything and everything was possible had I only sought to make it so. I had the power to heal. I had the power to live. I had the power to be.

I will struggle to move my head enough to see around me, only seeing walls; the same walls I’ve always had around me. I’ve built them, carefully laying block after block until I finally found myself bedridden and without the strength to lay another. I will shed a tear at the meaningless of these stones, suddenly realizing that I simply did not love myself enough to be free. I will remember my many protestations of freedom, but as the end slowly casts its light upon me I will realize how imprisoned I was. I will see my chains in the many “should haves” and “what ifs” my mind sends forward in the stark realization that I never truly lived.

Then I will silence my mind as the walls disappear around me.

I will know then that I was never the body, or the mind, or the beliefs, or the faith, or the failures, or the successes. I was never a husband, or a son, or a brother, or a father. I was what created, and experienced, all of those things.

I will then begin to see what I never knew as God in my body, in my heart and in the way I viewed things. A woman will come in my room to help prop up my weakened head, and ask me if I need anything. I will see what I never knew as God in her, in her smile and in her actions of care and compassion. I will see God in the pillow that now supports my head and in the woven fabrics that now cradle my aged body. In fact, I will see God in everything and realize that there is nothing I am not.

I will see God in the aloneness that I feel, in the waiting and in the moment. I will remember God in the strength I once had and in the strength I now possess. I will hear God in my breaths and in the gaps between them. Again I will smile.

There will be a chuckle as I see that I have experienced the Universe and that, yes, the Universe has experienced me. That laugh will come with a sigh in the realization that it was all so perfect even as my mind now finds fault in what I did not do.

Had my religion been experience I would have been in church every moment of my existence. Had my faith been in “what is” I would have not needed faith at all. Had my mind been focused on that practice I would have easily kept God’s day holy. Each and every moment is God’s day, and presence is the way we keep it sacred.

In the end I will see it all, and in the end I will shout out to me now and say, “LIVE” and beg for a baptism into experience where a priest is found in everyone and everything and the truth is found in each and every step of my life. As my head sinks into the chilly waters of doubt I close my eyes to save them from the sight. There, I feel my heartbeat loudly, and feel the tug of the surface pull at me.

Then I am raised, as if from the dead. As my head breaks the rippled surface my eyes open and I am born. Not born again, but continuing the process of birth that will end the moment my eyes close for the final time. I give thanks for the dream sent back in time by me at the end. I give thanks for the voice echoing in my head commanding me to LIVE. I give thanks for the uncovered truth of who I really am. Then I take a step toward…

The Space Between (Songs of Inspiration #2)

February 22, 2013 / Tom

The space between

The tears we cry is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more

The space between

The wicked lies we tell to keep us safe from the pain

I sit in my car at a stop light with the laughter of my little ones behind me, tears streaming down my face. Tears sometimes are the echo of the heart not specifically pointing in any direction but somehow facing inward, reminding us that there is something warm beating within us. Tears are not always tales of sadness or remorse but are sometimes stories of healing, of potential, of a glorious birth that is about to take place.

In my mind I stop and look forward yet behind me. I see the desolation, the destruction, the wreckage of what could have been. I see the wisps of black smoke rising above the moments in my life where fear had sheltered me from one storm only to create a far more destructive one. I see the litter strewn about my life and the burned out shells of books that could have been so beautifully written and read. I see the partially burned out pages moving with the dust devils of my memories, roughly being jostled from one resting place and swirling upward violently before coming to rest in another.

These swaths of living hell are not all I see even if they are the first things that have captured my attention. Wounds will do that to you. Those pieces of yang will distract you from the pieces of yin that also lie in this path. In order to see them you must learn to look beyond what time and conditioning have taught you to see and then you must open your arms to embrace it all. This isn’t about rejecting the periods of darkness that have kept you company in your nights, it is about embracing the light that comes in the spaces between. It is then about realizing that the darkness truly comes only in the spaces between the light. It is then about accepting both as a part of your day, part of the moment that is you.

I then saw the fields of flowers interspersed in the charred remnants of my moment. I began to hear the singing of birds above the crackling of burning embers and the life dancing about in my story. I could begin to feel the love above the ashes, and smell the fragrance of the roses, the carnations and the orchids. I could feel Life in it all and I smiled through the tears as the laughter of my little ones echoed around a mind no longer dulled by the numbness of a dream only I could create.

I could see the black clouds adorning a full, blue sky and realized that yes, the moon does shine during the day too. The tides go high and then low just as life ebbs and it flows. We don’t measure the tides by the height of the sand yet I have chosen to measure my life by the abundance of sadness. What if I was to measure it by the presence of love; focusing on the area of flowers and of the mellow beauty in the songs of the nature around me? What if instead of seeing the patches of destruction I saw the vast areas of loving awesomeness that made them so noticeable? What if I changed my focus, changed what was the space between?

The space between

Where you smile and hide

That’s where you’ll find me if I get to go

What if I choose to let go? What if I chose to act on that feeling I have when I look into her eyes? What if I chose to smell the roses instead of running from the dying flames of a past that is no longer there? What if I simply held her hand instead of thinking about then? What if I decided to dive into her, to walk that distance that separates us and erase that space between? What if I kissed her into a smile, coaxed her from her hiding place or simply went there with her? What if I…

…acted a little less like a boy beaten and a young man faulted and more like the being I want to be?

The questions mount, filling up the space between the gaps in my breath. I look at my empty hand and I wonder what it would be like if her fingers filled the space between my own. I wonder what would happen if there was no space between our lips, our mouths, our bodies. I can imagine the beauty in the space between our footprints in the sand as we walk hand-in-hand kicking the foamy surf forward. I wonder about the beautiful realization that occurs in the space between our eyes as we look into each other’s soul, and in the space between the heartbeats we share in a long, loving embrace.

I wonder about the words we could write in the space between our story of now and our story of tomorrow and, yes, I wonder about the space between my story of then and the moment we are sharing. My mind circles around the space between the rising and the setting sun, and the darkness that comes in the space before the sun rises again. I also wonder if I would ever know the sun if it wasn’t for that darkness, or notice the beauty of my life without the ugliness. I wonder if I would ever know the beauty of a loving hand in my own if not for its absence.

We’re strange allies

With warring hearts

What a wild-eyed beast you be

I can hear the endless fights and the countless debates about things. Things. I can feel the intimacy slip through the spaces between wrong and right, of listening and talking. I can hear the striking of the arson’s match setting the artist’s canvas on fire and the writer’s book to flame. I can hear the tears as the breath escapes our very mouths, and hear the fingers part as our hands fall to our sides and our gazes turn from what could have been.

I can sense it coming. Isn’t the testament of devotion and of love the beginning of the storm? Isn’t the wounded mind wracked by what it has seen surely cursed to war with the very heart it seeks to know and to love? Isn’t a bruised heart like the broken mast of a floundering ship in a raging storm sure to sink in the sea of its own devices? Isn’t a tired body sure to burn in the fires the mind has set?

Or are those things the very beginning of rebirth we seek? Isn’t it just a matter of awareness, of seeing the opportunity to embrace the beauty and be reborn? Is it just a matter of seeking something different?

The space between the stories of my life gives me enough room to experience it just as the space between the sky and the ground gives us enough room to fly. A horn blows from a car behind me allowing me to realize that the space between the red and green light at this intersection has allowed me to find some clarity in an otherwise hectic morning. I look in my rear-view mirror at my little ones in the back seat and notice the space between the tear on my cheek and the smile on my lips.

Perhaps we find our greatest experiences in the space between. Perhaps we find our wisdom there. Maybe we begin to realize our own truths as we begin to realize the spaces between. Maybe the greatest parts of who we are resides in the spaces between the illusions and delusions we have created about who we are. Maybe my soul has always been singing the words I now hear in my mind spreading across my soul like the light from the Sun cresting above the morning horizon.

The space between

What’s wrong and right

Is where you’ll find me hiding

Waiting for you