I’m sitting on the cushion
in the stillness of early morning,
the lingering mist of last night’s rain
adding a cool overlay
to the gently awakening day.
.
Sitting with a question mark,
as I frequently do, these days,
looking out of eyes
that sometimes intuit the mystery,
lying behind the view.
.
Pondering a revelation
recently shared by a dear friend:
“There is only The Light,
and my eyes are only windows in it.”
Sitting with that, and simply holding it.
.
A gentle thread of understanding
dangles at the edge of my consciousness.
I take up my pen and start to write,
attempting to distil the half-formed sense
into words that point to the source.
.
Images float into my mind’s eye:
The two faces of Janus looking forward and backward.
Shadows dancing on the cave wall in Plato’s allegory.
Shakti dancing for Shiva in the radiant Light of his Being.
Pictures, not concepts point to that which is beyond thought.
.
Patience, curiosity and the desire for truth,
are what I bring to the cushion.
Allowing my mind to settle into stillness,
Space opens out and understanding coalesces,
like turning the pages of a book, I write into being.
.
Perception has its subtle dimensions.
Like Janus, I see both the world bubbling forth
into the always clear, empty vessel
of untouchable awareness,
that births it into existence.
.
Shakti dancing, is weaving the world into being
through her many mudras,
casting moving shadows, formed in the light
of Shiva’s infinite being, onto the screen of awareness
and experienced as our living selves.
.
The shadow-play reveals the Light.
Attention and interest are shifting from
fascination with the changing patterns
and how to weave my-self into their tapestry,
back to the simple Presence of always radiant Self.
.
As I write, I’m ‘filled’ with a profound emptiness,
a stillness that contains all movement yet remains unmoving,
a No-Thing that is closer to me than myself,
always beyond knowing, beyond experience, beyond awareness
and I know I am ‘not-other’ than this.
.
Writing these pieces peels back the layers,
a living invitation to be true,
to honour and attempt to embody
what is revealed to eyes, opening to the mysteries,
with a deep sense of trust and infinite care.
.
I am being guided on a journey back into myself,
an unfolding, deeper yet simpler,
always just too much yet still bearable,
and in writing and sharing,
hoping that others can join me in the journey.