Thursday, July 3, 2014

Weaving neurons of bliss



For a moment it seemed as if the achy longing and the wild burning was working against you, that they had somehow taken the other side. Oh, friend. The beloved is near.

Your hopes, your fears, the old images, the dying dreams—everything you thought you knew about yourself, about love, about intimacy, about your heart, about what you "need," about what will truly fulfill your deepest yearning—the beloved has these now, is holding and recycling them deep within the caverns of her body, and will send them back to you as more aliveness and endless opening.

Yes, it may appear at times that something has gone horribly wrong, that somehow you have "failed," that you are not as "spiritual" as you thought, and that you are not ultimately lovable as you are. But where you are now things are rarely as they appear. You are in the mandala of the unknown, inside the palace of the beloved, where all reference points have fallen away. Here, it is utterly exhilarating and unbearably terrifying at the same time. You are holding both of these simultaneously and wonder if the end of your world is near. You are on the right track.

As you open even more—deeper and wider and messier than you ever thought possible—the secrets of her wisdom field continue to pour into your heart and out through your naked senses, exchanging one somatic revelation after the next. 

Feel the beloved one surrounding you now. She is knitting a holding space inside you, so that she and her emissaries may take up residence inside your cells and organs. They are weaving together neurons of bliss, particles of broken and whole, and the mysteries of separation and union, in preparation for what is yet to come.



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