Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Every morning we glow
Watching the sun come up in the hills this morning, playing with my wildflower friends, birdsong come from the other world... here where we are now, everything arising is fresh and of the nature of pure awareness—there is no way sounds like these have ever been heard until this very moment. How is it that these senses take the silence as their sweetest lover, working in union to break me open even more? How is it that the color blue is offering its glow on the inside, activating its love inside me?
This heart is so raw, shaky, tender... feelings passing through that have never made their way here, sensations and somatic revelations sent to reveal a portal into the wild, alive mandala of open awareness. Everything seems slightly pink... like it's all coming and going inside a big Rose... that glow.
As our dear guide Rumi reminds us, about this primordial glow, about this ancient love-wine that has somehow been laid out before us: We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups. That's fine with us. Every morning we glow, and in the evening we glow again. They say there is no future for us. Ah, they're right. Which is fine with us.
Photo credit: the glowy holding field of our Maroon Bells, by Alex Santiago