Listen to your being. It is continuously giving you hints; it is a still, small voice. It does not shout at you, that is true. And if you are a little silent you will start feeling your way. Be the person you are. Never try to be another, and you will become mature. Maturity is accepting the responsibility of being oneself, whatsoever the cost. Risking all to be oneself, that’s what maturity is all about.
Just look at life with more playful eyes. Don’t be serious. Seriousness becomes like a blindness. Don’t pretend to be a thinker, a philosopher. Just simply be a human being. The whole world is showering its joy on you in so many ways, but if you are too serious, you cannot open your heart.
Mother Earth is loving us. She sends us bounties of joy that we can only catch if we’re awake.
Graduation Reflection 001.
I look back at these four years with love. My life has been a gift and I am thankful.
I feel grateful for the friendships I have shared. They have left me with gifts of openness and honesty. Some left and said goodbye leaving their love behind, “I will see you when I see you.” Some have shown me the truth. They introduced me to world within themselves. I have seen beauty.
And in these four years, we have grown together, you and I. We are all being, all becoming as we be. We have shared a journey. We are of kin.
I can see the whole, beyond myself. I can feel our ways, diverging and converging. Going away and coming together. We will meet again. We will meet eventually.
You all will remain in my heart. We are all a part of one another.
This is just the start of our journey. We were only beginning to get to know each other. We will cross paths, our fates intertwined. We will meet again, but in a different place and a different time. We will look different, yet something will feel familiar. Because we have always known. We were once one after all.
Sadness gives depth. Happiness gives height. Sadness gives roots. Happiness gives branches. Happiness is like a tree going into the sky, and sadness is like the roots going down into the womb of the earth. Both are needed, and the higher a tree goes, the deeper it goes, simultaneously. The bigger the tree, the bigger will be its roots. In fact, it is always in proportion. That’s its balance.
Don’t seek, don’t search, don’t ask, don’t knock, don’t demand—relax. If you relax, it comes. If you relax, it is there. If you relax, you start vibrating with it.
My whole teaching consists of two words, meditation and love. Meditate so that you can feel immense silence, and love so that your life can become a song, a dance, a celebration. You will have to move between the two, and if you can move easily, if you can move without any effort, you have learned the greatest thing in life.
You must learn to let go. Release the stress. You were never in control anyway.
Be a lamp unto yourself.
When Indra fashioned the world, he made it as a web, and at every knot in the web is tied a pearl. Everything that exists, or has ever existed, every idea that can be thought about, every datum that is true—every dharma, in the language of Indian philosophy—is a pearl in Indra’s net. Not only is every pearl tied to every other pearl by virtue of the web on which they hang, but on the surface of every pearl is reflected every other jewel on the net. Everything that exists in Indra’s web implies all else that exists.
The Gift of Love
These are the days of my life,
Where I know that I am able,
To be me without you.
These are the scars that we’ve left,
On the arms of one another,
That will heal in time.
These are the flags that we’ll raise,
To be free from the shackles,
Of one another.
These are the winds we’ll embrace,
That touches our hearts,
To bring pain to light.
These are the blessings of our union,
We are forever grateful for,
To love as spirit and soul.
These are the moments we surrender,
To once more receive,
The gift of love.
Imagine a multidimensional spider’s web in the early morning covered with dew drops. And every dew drop contains the reflection of all the other dew drops. And, in each reflected dew drop, the reflections of all the other dew drops in that reflection. And so ad infinitum. That is the Buddhist conception of the universe in an image.
The Man of Fire and Gold
The first man I ever loved was fire and gold. He was soul and darkness. His pain was great and so was his suffering. He intrigued me. I believed he was something beyond, but he was only human.
Our love was perfection. He played grace and godliness, and so did I. We were great, so much so that we fooled ourselves. We forgot we were only human.
Our lies unraveled. It hurt to know that we are weak. Beneath us the ground crumbles. We place blame on one another as we are engulfed by the storm. We were sick. Our anger overtakes us.
Our hearts tore apart. Our bond in trust and love broken. We swear we can never love again. Love was fire. Love will burn and destroy us.
We loved to our end. Our love was fury. A love that disintegrates into ashes. Not the kind of love that endures. Not the kind of love that stays.
My man of fire and gold can rest in my memories. He will find his way eventually. We were blessed to meet. To love each other with fever and ecstasy, when we need only kindness.
I have the mind of a child
Asking, why is 2 + 3 always equal to 5?
Where do people go to when they die?
What made the beauty of the moon?
And the beauty of the sea?
Did that beauty make you?
Did that beauty make me?
Will that make me something?
Will I be something?
Am I something?
And the answer comes: you already are, you always, always were, and you still have time to be.
Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.