I am the root of reality and the flower of illusion. No wonder awakening is so hard, for paradox is the point of power. I am both truth and illusion, fed by streams of pure water and hocus pocus in abundance. Some call this world maya; I call it a testing ground. For I have been led to drink pure water while under illusion’s veil. It is terribly confusing.

Bliss and suffering flow together along the banks of the River Life. Commingled is human love and hate, the pure awareness and the low-down, dirty lie. Jazz, blues and cosmic symphonies make their way to our ear. Is anyone to blame for this barfed-up bag of tricks?

Some come to hate God and others to love him. Some awaken and others deepen their sleep. Is there any rhyme or reason to this ongoing Scrabble game? I like to think there is, but as often as not, I walk in the rain and am soaked with sorrow. I sit in the sun and dry out in bliss. I break down and rise up. I shout and I whisper. I walk between the lines and color outside of them. I am a divine freak show.

I love the truth of my being and I fall into disarray at least once a day. My petals bruised and falling, I return to my root. There I sit soaking in the silence. I remember who I am. I give thanks for light. I vow to do better by being better. For I have learned that doing is my downfall. I was born to be. Doing is just a distraction.

Some of you think I am crazy. I think some of you are, so that’s a Mexican standoff. Who will win in the war against reality? Who will sit down and be counted as a servant of the real? Anyone can do it if they remember that the mixing of the truth and the lie do not go on forever. Somewhere out there we live as One. And somewhere in here we know it.

I have been anxious all of my life; supposedly it is in my DNA. Although I have gotten better at managing it, it still looms large on social occasions in which I might be judged. For one thing, I am not good at small talk; it is painful to carry the burden of my “end of the deal.” What deal, you might ask? The deal we make when we enter a social conversation. That you and I are
“normal” and have “something to say to each other.” I am using quotation marks as a form of irony.

I know so much more than I can ever convey through chit-chat. I think we can all agree to feeling that way. I was born a serious child and have remained a serious adult, despite the fact that I can write comedy. The comedy arises from my understanding the silliness of human behavior, mine included.

The spiritual path and inner work can be more easily understood than the give and take of human relationships. God yanked the rug out from me early; He took my young daughter and said “Deal with it.” Something like that can’t be easily ignored. I hid the evidence of her life, dutifully giving her clothes and toys away, much of them to the Salvation Army. I kept her doll house up until this year, believe it or not. Her father made it for her the year that she died and now he has gone, too. You can’t work that into a conversation.

I put up a brave front, found a spiritual teacher and tried to play the roles I was expected and given to play. But my deepest desire was to know the truth. A good part of knowing the truth is knowing yourself. I knew what I wanted but not how to get it. I wanted the deepest knowledge about life. I knew I was living a fear-based life and therefore, knew that others are, too. Some just suppress it or lie about it.

So here I am now, squarely in my, ahem, golden years, and finally coming to accept who I am. I am a spiritual writer who operates from her intuitive mind. I have given myself over to this, come what may. I now say no to many things to which other people would happily say yes. But for the first time in my life, I am being true to my inner child. She had it right in the first place. She knew she was different, but she tried to fit in. Now I know I am different, but perhaps in a good way. Perhaps in a way that can give me a better quality of life

Not fitting in is sometimes a hallmark of the wise. Good company is always small. I like to think that living a life of truth leads to living a life of goodness. And that is better than a cocktail party any day.

By the way, if anyone wants to donate to the site or order a copy of my book, that would be great.  I’ve posted a new series of talks about being with Vernon Howard that I think are worth listening to.  I do a lot of hard work here and the occasional donation is  greatly appreciated and helpful.

 

 

God has a tract of land called Between Two Thoughts. It might as well be Eden. It is up to each one of us to travel there and discover its wonders for ourselves. We cannot stay long at first. Some mysterious force catapults us back into thought and while there we know nothing of  it. We live our conflicted, divided lives in great unconscious pain. All the  while the land awaits our return.

After hours or years of suffering, we may remember the the Land Between Two Thoughts. We return and give thanks that we were able to return. And then we leave. Again and again. This is the inner journey we are called to make. Some of us carry trace memories of it and read books and chant mantras to help get us back there now and again. Few move there permanently.

Orators set up pulpits proclaiming the existence of this land where thought is naught. Some even verified it.

Creeds arose around these verifiers and people began to follow the creeds and forget the journey.

The land itself lays no claim to anything. Some people return from the land, bringing precious seeds. They plant these wherever they can and sometimes they bear fruit and sometimes not.

There is a great secret carried by this land. You cannot think about it. You must become it.

A friend said this essay put him in mind of Traherne. I was not familiar with him but the first thing I read of his took me aback:

“ An empty book is like an infant’s soul, in which anything may be

written. It is capable of all things, but containeth nothing. I have a

mind to fill this with profitable wonders. And since Love made you put

it into my hands I will fill it with those Truths you love without

knowing them: with those things which, if it be possible, shall shew my

Love; to you in communicating most enriching Truths: to Truth in

exalting her beauties in such a Soul.”

—Thomas Traherne