There is only one truth. It is being where you are; and where you are, is where your body is.
This is too simple for the brain to comprehend in its now chronically complicated condition. The brain has become so divided in itself and burdened with problems that the truth – the living truth, or living the truth – no longer has any real meaning for it. When the brain does attempt to find the truth it gets stuck in its own contrived religious or scientific dogmas and becomes even more divided, confused and confusing.
No matter how much you are preoccupied at any time with thinking, wishing, dreaming or worrying, you will always wake up or return to consciousness in the living reality of your body. In fact, it can be said that in all the psychological activity you’ve ever engaged in, you didn’t go anywhere or do anything. You only thought you did. It all happens in the brain, not in reality. (Again you’ll notice the brain’s inability to grasp what I’ve just said; and its urge to argue or dismiss the statement.)
The only way to get around the ignorance of the brain is for you to live the truth. Living it means doing it, not thinking about it. You have to make the brain simple again, return it to its natural simplicity. You have to strip it of its acquired and treasured ignorance. You have to restore it to the innocence of being one with your body here and now. In this state of innocence, of rediscovered union, all is made wondrously simple, like yourself, your life and the whole apparent, complicated world of problems around you.
From his book, The Way In
“My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.”
A year ago today, we said goodbye to our beloved Lucy. And although she is still here with us in spirit–and we feel her presence with us always–we do miss seeing her beautiful body every day, with its amazing variety of earth tones that seemed lit from within. We miss her penetrating and unflinching gaze, her willingness to walk with us–anytime, anywhere–and her instantaneous and consistent response to an invitation to play, even when she was barely able to rise off the ground in her later years.
More than all that, though, we miss the solidity of her form here with us… the utter blessing of laying on the floor next to her, burying our face or our fingers in her fur, inhaling her smell, rubbing her amazingly strong body, hearing her steady heart beating inside that deep and powerful chest. We miss the soft, moisture of her black nose and her tender tongue, the whiteness of her massive wolf teeth and the freshness of her breath, the rough texture of her foot pads and the perfection of those massive feet. We miss her scrabbling toenails on the dresser as she ran after rabbits in her sleep, the little yelps she made when she caught one, and the occasional primal howl that arose from her throat in the middle of the night.
Dear Lucy, we still feel deep gratitude to have been blessed with your temporary presence in our lives. Our dreams are still filled with you, even as we move on in life, living it to the fullest–Now–just as you would do.
~Steve & Grace