Monday, May 19, 2014
Seeds in the garden of the beloved
While we will take rest from time to time, in some ways there is really no day off for the traveler with the broken-open heart, for we never know when love will need us.
With some wild grace on our side, we are willing to touch the sadness and the melancholy of this precious world, offer it safe passage inside our bodies, and enter without bias into the dark as well as the light. Somehow we are remembering an ancient, forgotten vow to engage equally with the activity of separation and union, broken and whole, and oneness and many, as each unique situation calls to us, so that hearts may open everywhere.
It can be so astonishing to discover that everything here is valid, all is path, and nothing need be discarded. And to see that the entirety of our somatic majesty are seeds in the garden of the beloved, which with the fertilizers of radical embodiment and loving awareness will come to bear fruit in the mandala of love.
In many ways, our lives are no longer our own any longer, for we have given them to love. It is this giving that is our only yoga now.