Tuesday, April 1, 2014

The vast, tender space of the sacred world



It is so quiet in the mountains today, so much space here; just me and the birds and the new spring wildflowers, and the transmission of the purples, the blues, and the pinks from the other world. For me, the mountains offer their own sort of baptism, washing out this nervous system so that love may have her way with me again. It can be overwhelming to let it all the way in that one more day has been given.

The breath moving in and out, thoughts coming and going, feelings that have never made their way here until now, all reminding me of how precious it is to have a human body. The birdsong here comes from another time, another place, another reality altogether; a gift from beyond that will never be heard again. It is all so vivid, but not solid; so eternal, but not of time; so luminous, yet utterly transparent; so empty (of concept), so full (of love).

How is it that there can be no difference between that which appears in awareness and awareness itself?

Everything that touches these senses is somehow crafted out of the same light-filled pieces of consciousness. Each unique appearance arising brilliantly in vast, tender space, an irreplaceable reflection of the sacred world, birthed out of the stars, playing for a few moments inside the cells of this heart, gifting this reality with the wildness of its precious display, and then dissolving back into the mountain of being.

I hope I make it all the way through this sweetest of ever days, but if for some reason I do not, this would have been enough – I have been given so much more than enough. 


Photo by Glenn Randall - the majestic holding field of Sneffels range, in southwestern Colorado, graced with guests of Lupine, come from the other world to offer their unique spring transmission. 
 

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