Saturday, August 4, 2012

Some grace that moves through us

There is some grace that moves through us where we find ourselves no longer concerned, on any level, about any sort of second-hand, conditioned, pre-packaged, pre-programmed “spiritual” experience, nor any interest in finding our way to some fabulous “very high” state of consciousness. The movement toward the “divine,” to the absolute, or to any future constructed reality has somehow fallen away. In its wake, all that remains is an excruciating willingness to commit fully to this body, these senses, this raw pulsing heart, these people in my life, and to being a vessel through which that grace can pour out into this world. 

It is a commitment to somehow deeply allow *this* life and everyone in it to profoundly matter. Totally unguarded and unprotected, no longer willing to hide behind our “spirituality” or inside our shielded cocoons, and willing to lose everything. 

No more interest in transcending anything, or in some new “divine” reality somewhere else, arriving in 2012 or constructed around any other hope, fear, or fantasy rooted in me and my specialness, or in our unmet pain or arising out of the denial of death. Only interested in right here, right now, forever committed to staying vulnerable and remaining broken-open in each and every moment, hopelessly devoted to the utter nakedness of the radically exposed heart; and unswervingly dedicated to the miracle of love as it pours through this precious reality, as it is, here, now. No more dishonoring of *this* reality and of the gift of grace that is being given *right now* in the form of *these* experiences, these thoughts, these feelings, these sensations, for each is only a gift of love in motion. Fully human, embracing the unbearable risk of intimacy and relatedness, watching the habitual pull toward some other “state” or “divine” experience incinerated once and for all in love’s raging flames. And then noticing what remains… the most tender knowing that the heart will surely shatter, over and over and over and over and over, with no hope or desire of it ever remaining intact again.