While folding laundry I hear birdsong and look out the window to see a bird perched on a fencepost, singing its heart out. Time stands still as the song fills me, spills over – I … am … the bird, the song, the half-folded towel in my hands.
Things I used to do, make sure got done, I no longer do … they don’t … get done. Papers pile up on the surface of a desk, dishes linger in the sink, unwashed, books that once held my interest remain half-read on the nightstand. I sit for long stretches of time in silence. If I was asked to describe what I am doing I might say, “Nothing.”
My heart contracts with grief as some past event, long buried, is brought into conscious awareness. Tears overflow as the pain burns a hole right through me – and yet there is no flinching. There is absolute amazement that that particular burden was carried all these years – and yet, it was. Now it has been set down and there is a sense of relief.
Utter chaos may reign within – or without – and yet, there is calm. Stillness. A sense of being ‘centered’. It is inexplicable. I don’t care that I could not for the life of me explain it to my own satisfaction, nor probably to anyone else’s.
Nothing seems very important. Just … this.
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.”
~ T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
“When we try to pick out anything by itself,
we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.”
“When you argue with reality, you lose, but only 100% of the time.”
~ Byron Katie
This guy is ruthless; I love him. Here are some of his quotes:
Wake up first. Wake up, and then you can double back and perhaps be of some use to others if you still have the urge. Wake up first, with pure and unapologetic selfishness, or you’re just another shipwreck victim floundering in the ocean and all the compassion in the world is of absolutely no use to the other victims floundering around you.
Truth isn’t an idea or a concept. It’s not in libraries or the words of sages. It doesn’t come in a flash of insight or a peak experience. It’s not a feeling of bliss or ecstasy. It’s not a concept to be understood or a feeling to be experienced. It’s not in your heart or your mind. It’s further.
Spiritual awakening is about discovering what’s true. Anything that’s not about getting to the truth must be discarded. Truth isn’t about knowing things; you already know too much. It’s about unknowing. It’s not about becoming true; it’s about unbecoming false so that all that’s left is truth.
No belief is true. No. Belief. Is. True.