Samudra Beach, Kovalam, Kerala

Feb 15, 2012

There is a light that, when it shines, it opens everything. When the heart is closed, this light softens it. When the stomach is clenched, this light loosens it. When the brain is tired, this light rejuvenates it. It is nothing other than the light of you self. It is who you have been all along and who you are destined to be. It is full of consciousness, totally alive and awake to what is happening in the moment and watching the time streams of past and future blending into one congruent whole.

You know you need to practice. You know it takes time. You know you can give yourself whatever you need for your own development. Keep singing! Don't give up. The mystery and the journey will always be here with you.

Today as I was tossing about in the salty waves of Samudra Beach, I looked out on the expanse of light-streaked water and remembered that I am eternal. A physical-emotional sensation of continuing to exist always everywhere, with no limit or boundary, came over me. When time folds in on itself it also opens up to reveal the greatest gift. This is the gift of clear perception, of seeing all that there is to see without blame or glory. Of looking into yourself and through yourself, seeing the many worlds and places which are still being created in the waves of the eternal.

I don't know why I came to India. I only know that my intention, my deep hunger that was and still is driving me, is the desire to be real. It's the will to see beyond all the misfabrications of our world, to understand what we are really here for.

I don't believe we are here to change anybody. I don't believe that one day we will wake up and the world will be healed. I believe that each of us has our duty to ourselves and our creator to fulfill whatever destinies lie waiting inside for us to discover.

There is no learning without hurt, no love without pain, no courage without fear. We all walk around with arms full of truths and half-truths, trying to remember what it is we came here to do.

I remember. Do you remember? I hear the song playing on an old vinyl record, something crooning up from the roots of an ancient story, a story which we all belong to. As I write, I scribble the notes of one long history book, and another book of a prophecy for the future. Yet this story has been told time and time again, of how we got here and why, of where we are going to and what it will be like. We don't need to search anymore. The knowledge is hidden and waiting, bursting at the seams to come out. It is in the faces of homeless women, of children begging on the street. It is in the glint of a rich man's Rolex watch and the scent of his new rubber tires. It is in the way we all look out from one perceiving center and shape our universe to align with what we are aiming for.

Can't we all see what it’s like to be alive together? What about the waves, and timeless possibility, and the semi-permanence of feeling good? What about letting yourself feel for a while?

Do you really like this reality, or are you just saying so? Then what is there to do. You can try to change this reality - physical and slow, hard work, sometimes rewarding. Or you can turn the flame of candle inward and let all your experiences melt those feisty knots inside that keep you tied to a gauntlet of fear and avoidance. Let that change you. Let the whole world in its bleeding, dying, coughing, choking horror; transform the mine in you to see those diamonds which you have been neglecting.

Trust me. We all know. We have all been there. Everyone is a member of the scar clan. But the days count themselves off when you could be living closer to what’s inside you. When you could stop this funny business and get on with the real problem of seeing to your self-creations and self-immolations.

Your song reminds me of something I heard once in a dream not so long ago. It is full of the sun-brightened faces of school children laughing in the ocean surf, of eagles swooping down to clasp a fresh catch of fish, of rocks bumbling downward as they sigh and give their weight into gravity. Let's remember that song. The one that binds us together and sets us free. I can play it on my radio, if you like. The speakers are not very good but the rhythm is the same as it's always been.

Life sure is a tucker, isn't it? We think we know what we're doing or where we're going, and then some bloody angel pops in, switches the dials, and the life station switchboard goes haywire again. But then maybe that's what this is all about - finding our own pattern of chaos and rhyming it with the words we feel unformed inside. Maybe it's not all about forgiveness and love and smiling daffodils, but something more tenacious and mighty, like a sword out of battle or a prince riding home.

I return once again to the clashing tension of opposites: masculine and feminine, rich and poor, East and West, spiritual and materialistic, selfish and altruistic, plain and fancy, remembered and forgotten. Somewhere in the middle, I sit down. I feel myself. I am aware. I touch, see, smell, taste, hear. This oven I'm in is still cooking. The pie is not done yet - maybe it never will be. But the kitchen of life has all the ingredients. All the spices are there. When I look in the cupboard I don't have a recipe, yet all the things come together in a way so unexpected that I didn't know such beauty could be created by me or through me. This is life. The farmhouse kitchen of eternity, full of sunshine and roses standing in water on the table. Won't you join me for dinner?