the dream of our self-made illusion
spreads out high and wide
over the mystic cover of night-thought,
to the farthest corners of the sublimated mind.
it is like a prismatic covering
over the soft grounds
of our Being.
the conditioned mind then becomes vexed by belief:
– in contraction, subordination, separation –
and yet upon touching the unmistakeable,
the sheet of maya can be seen through
as the mighty charade of a cosmic love-dance…
there is nothing but Reality with which Reality could pretend to veil itself;
– and so –
there is nothing but Reality with which Reality could attempt to find itself.
seek not your Self with your Self;
simply know your Self as all that is True.
and in the clear seeing
that you are what you seek,
the cataclysm of the spiritual search
begins to resolve itself
back to peaceful ash,
now ready to flit alongside the motion of the wind,
it’s only flightpath, the joy of the soul.
for even the deepest contraction has not the power to shift one iota in the ever-present sands of your depth. consciousness is your base, your core, your reality, your home.
first, we come together as seeming-beings, closer and then further apart like magnets that can’t decide upon their polarity. relationships begin and end, friendships can turn to betrayal or vanish to the spectre of time, and all our connections serve to tell us mainly of the impermanence of it all – even of our deepest loves and intimacies. the only constant is this life-affirming reminder of our ultimate independence, of our detached sovereignty as Consciousness and as its Expressions.
Life is a lesson in loving detachment – for the goal of Life is not in Life, it is in Consciousness, it is in the discovery that what we long for cannot, finally, be found in this world; and yet, it cannot be missed. it is what we are. we belong to the self, even as life brings us inexorably together and apart.
underneath all concepts lies an undisturbed truth:
we share the very same Being.