Yesterday Monica commented as a response to this poem called One, indivisible: It seems I struggle with this concept all the time by intellectualizing about it; trying to understand it (I’ve had the most success understanding by referring to the Native American worldview). But really, how often do I experience it? I can count how many times on one hand, all uninvited, all a momentary flash in the pan…
I read her words and agreed, agreed, agreed.
How many times do we attempt to intellectualize Oneness? How many times must we fail?
Yet, if we’re lured toward Oneness like a silver-finned trout toward flashing bait, how can we not attempt to realize it, figure it out, wear it day in and day out?
We’ve caught glimpses. We’ve seen, we’ve felt, we’ve touched.
We know we’re not defined by our seemingly-separate seemingly-individual selves.
We perhaps once dissolved into a sunset.
We perhaps once lost boundaries, merging with fat ripe raspberries.
We perhaps once lost our entire self–where did it go? where did it go?–driving amazed down a familiar road engrossed in the color “yellow” and “that sign” and “oh, look, a curve toward the swamp!”
We long to bring back that lost experience, the exquisite feeling of freedom, don’t we, don’t we?
When boundaries drop away like silken lingerie toward the nakedness of the moment, life hushes, pauses. It’s all gone, gone, except this. This magnificence, this arising!
So perhaps we pant after it again, like a dog in heat. Perhaps we lap up teachings like a thirsty kitten. Perhaps we follow gurus, touching the hem of white robes as they pass. Perhaps we sweat in Native American lodges feeling prayers dissolve into a star-studded sky. Perhaps we sit on a stump, eye to eye with a coyote, and suddenly there’s no you and no coyote, and perhaps never was.
Perhaps we decry teachers and teachings. Perhaps we snub our nose at spiritual materialism and the way folks parrot dead words. Perhaps we bay at the moon, begging, begging the moon to come closer. Perhaps we don’t concern ourselves with the other, preferring instead to bring the human to its best-lived form. Perhaps, perhaps…
Perhaps we meditate.
For a thousand years we watch the arisings and disappearings. Perhaps for sixteen thousand lifetimes we watch ourselves birth and die. Perhaps sixteen billion times we witness a thought appear, and then, where is it, where did it go?
We wear clothes of a personality, and straight-jacket ourselves into who we think ourselves to be. We won’t allow any skin to show, revealing ourselves to be Everything.
We’re tighter wrapped than a bandana.
We’re tighter squeezed than a corset.
And yet, and yet, sometimes air succeeds in penetrating, moving through cloth, revealing it to be a marriage of air and linen, perception and disappearance.
How do we–those of us who long–proceed?
When it’s impossible to do anything, because anything we do takes us back into our personalities, our clothes?
How can we not do anything, because we’re likely to die wedded to our habits like the personality-addicts we truly are?
Whatever thoughts and beliefs and ideas arise merely feed the illusion that we’re a Kathy, Laurie, Elisa, Robin, Dana, Monica, OM, me, me, me.
Beneath the thoughts lies a river, a river of life. Thoughts effortlessly pass on swiftly moving rapids, flotsam and jetsam of liquid movement.
To access the river we discover what lies beneath the story of ourselves.
What flows beneath our little play.
What sings beneath our daily song.
What dances before we waltz.
We look: here, now. This room. Outside the window. That chair. This person at the computer. The clock. Washing machine churning. Snow falling. Thought arising.
What encompasses this all?
This is what we are. Perception. Everything. We. Perceive.
Are we simply thoughts, feelings, Kathy-person, main character in our musical?
Or are we this, this, this and THIS and this evermore?
To truly embrace this knowing that we are everything and that it’s seamless, One, indivisible… before the personality arises and shakes its disgusted head and claims itself again and let’s have a chocolate cupcake, please, because it’s never enough, never has been enough, never will be enough, and its mouth is endlessly hungry to create, to do, to be…anything…more than what appears.
How do we fully realize this?
How do we fully surrender to what is larger than our mouse-eyed perspective?
As a being who still believes she moves in and out of this realization, I cannot answer with authority.
(The good news for that which thinks it is me and you– We only appear to move in and out of this realization because what we truly are has never ever left what we are.)
Lately it seems that Oneness reveals its ever-presence through everything. Because we see, how can everything we see not be One? Because we hear, isn’t every sound Itself? Because we touch, oh yes, it’s YOU, beloved awareness. Because we smell, oh how delicious. Because we move, oh yes, I see you, you can’t play hide and seek forever.
We won’t play hide and seek forever.
This is our great glad news now and always.