January 9, 2006

The Light

I had been meditating for four months when, around Christmas of 2001, in the Thousand Petaled Lotus above the head, a direct perception of The One arose; this happened a couple of times. It was very confusing for me: "What am I supposed to do with that?" I thought. How could I continue to live such a mundane and meaningless life in this limited and separate body after having temporarily experienced something so completely fulfilling in every way?

I have not written anything for a while because I have been going through a particularly intense period of self-exploration; one of the things that has come from that is a deeper understanding about the meaning of my life. I have started to realize that I am here to invite that light down from the top of my head and to channel it through my heart, into the world. The exquisite beauty that arises when that pure light passes through the heart is sweet beyond description. The more I can imagine my whole being as a channel for that healing light, the more complete I feel in my body. My fingers, toes, eyes, mind, and every part of me is part of an expressive instrument to convey that light into this world. This is the beauty of creation: The One experiencing The One; The One blessing The One; The One reveling in its own self-sweetness; its own multi-faceted, endless, eternal, immaculate beauty. I imagine that this is everyone's purpose, not only mine: this is the purpose of every creature, of every sentient thing, every animal and bird and plant, every rock and particle of dust; to love itself in all its glorious manifestation.

Yesterday I was sitting in the large warm pool at Harbin Hot Springs. As I looked at each person around me, I went inside their body and looked back at myself; often, when I then looked at them, I found them smiling back at me. Then with each person, I brought the light down through my head, my throat, my heart and out through every cell of my body and through the water, surrounding their body and mine in a field of deep loving, healing acceptance. I felt so much gratitude that it could come through this little body and this little heart of mine; how can I contain and express something so immense. I was ecstatic; I was grinning, giggling, enjoying myself; I was fulfilled.

Earlier that morning I had been up on the mountain, running through the California wilderness among the mossy boulders and crusty oaks. I was running like a deer. I like to do this: to imagine I am a deer; to leap from rock to mossy bank; to lift myself from the ground and fly through the air in a succession of timeless still moments. Often I leap not knowing where I will land, choosing the next target while in mid-air; trusting that the Mother will still be there beneath me, to catch me in her soft green arms.

As I came down a slope towards a stream, my right foot landed on a piece of smooth granite and my body came down with full force onto my crumpled leg. I felt shooting pain in my knee and ankle. My first first reactive thoughts were negative: "This is going to take so long to heal", "I'm going to be limping", "I'm seeing a friend later and this pain will distract me", "I'm not going to run for a while", "It might never properly heal", "The drive home is going to be really uncomfortable". And in this way I caught myself, very quickly ... and I stopped. I used to spend eight hours cleaning my Porsche on a Saturday and yet didn't exercise every day. I walk in the forest and I fear breaking up the ground and leaving a mark and yet I drink coffee and alcohol, poisoning my body. My beautiful body: why does it not deserve as much care and respect as anything else in this beautiful creation? Even more so: I'm its caretaker, I am bonded to it, I can feel what it needs so directly. Why do I have so little compassion for my body? And then I felt gratitude and I knew that I had a choice, that I always have a choice. So I took care of my leg. I stood there and gave my leg what it needed: I brought the light down from the top of my head and through my heart and into my knee and my ankle. I did this for a while. This certainly produced psychological and emotional healing. I don't know if there was physical healing but I can say that today there is only a very slight ache in my leg.

I cried a lot while writing this article.