Wandering in Stillness

on December 14 | in Inspirations | by | with Comments Off on Wandering in Stillness

Programming Life: Wandering in Stillness
photo by Graham from Los Angeles, USA
[CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

There is a vast and luminous space within. Out in the world, there are vast forests and endless seas, true, but there in physicality you have charts and stars to navigate by. In the inner realm, the true wilderness, there is no compass or map. There is no wandering in the world comparable to wandering in stillness.

What worldly pleasure competes with the shudder of awareness emerging from grosser, more manifest, more physical forms?

You might confront the shadow aspects of self by wandering countries. You might temporarily know freedom from identity by consuming mystical potions from street vendors or jungle shamans. One might even learn to live in another body through the mortal form of love. Such wonders and miracles, each of these, as profound and inexpressible as any wave of the inner seas. But these forms, ultimately and sadly, are a chasm and void. We can only grasp after the luminous in the world by snatching at duality.

Wandering in stillness, there are no forms. The flickering visions are phantasms that evaporate in an instant. Joy and grief, glee and fear are the energies that move and speak in your chest. The light of awareness feels like deepest gratitude for the inexpressible miracle – we cannot begin to fathom the why, for just the what of upwelling consciousness awes us to silence.

There are sleek cars and smooth actors abounding in the world. There are pretty ladies and handsome men. The world abounds with many lovely creatures and forms. Glittering, reflected sunlight laughs with the bubbling streams. The wind itself caresses us, and the moon herself cascades as the unity of divinity and sexuality. This outer garden is splendid, indeed, for all its dark alleys and bloodied fangs.

But just the gateway to the inner garden throbs with blissful light and the scent of fear. Wandering in stillness, identity is a dressing-up game for children. Seek what you may, dear hearts, in whatever realm, but do not forget your inner garden. Sit in stillness and silence, watching your breath. Ride your chariot into the blinding, luminous eternity.

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