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Through the Eye of the Heart

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  I used to think there was a macrocosm out there, and a microcosm down here. I used to think, "As above, so below," like, there was a difference. I thought there was inner and outer. I thought there was a feminist spirituality and a masculine spirituality, an indigenous tribal way and a European way, an Eastern soul and a Western soul. Everything seemed very complicated, and multi-dimensional. And I was always choosing sides. But I was looking through the shattered lens of egoic mind, and seeing with double-vision.   Then I relaxed into who I really Am, breathed down into my chest, and began seeing through the clear lens, the single Eye of the Heart. As Jesus said, "When your Eye is single, your whole body will be filled with light." Human beings all live in one homeland, one kingdom of God. We are all born here, in the land of the body. We may appear in eight billion different colors, but there is only one human race. Each one of us contains the mothering en...
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Frolic

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Don't be so deep. Spend a meager moment frolicking on the surface of things. Some say you're the ocean. I say, be a wave, a bubble of foam. Skip across a thousand crests like a sunbeam. Moth-dance on my lips and eyes, figure me with little kisses. Be pollen on the window, not the glass. Expressionist bird droppings on a marble terrace. Your soul defined by blemishes and crow’s feet. A vintage golden earring in the trash. Pay more attention to what's thrown away. ‘Away’ might be your motherland. When you dust off Great  Aunt Gertrude's teapot, become the dust. Or a snowflake dissolving on the first plum bud. Holding the void in your head, trying to merge with nothing, makes you heavy. Be a blade of grass. What's wrong with thingness? Sumi-e: Sakai Houitsu, Late Edo period
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Nonduality & Devotion are One (Video)

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My Conspiracy Theory

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We may dispel almost all conspiracy theories by applying the principle known as Hanlon's Razor: "Do not attribute to malice that which is more easily explained by stupidity." However, I do subscribe to one conspiracy theory, and you may feel free to borrow it. For billions of years, the black hole at the center of our galaxy, and the gravity of each gazing star, and every hydrocarbon, chloroplast, or photon of sunlight in my breath, yes even the shy colors of the meadow, celadon and sage, have conspired to gather my atoms toward this moment, now, where the only choice is to fall on my knees in sparkling moss, spreading to wind and sky my arms,  useless though they be as wings,  and to confess: "I don’t know what the fuck is going on!" Only then am I capable of praying:  "I'm sorry. Forgive me. Thank you. I love you." This is how the whole universe conspires to fill my heart with perfect joy.
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