it was always you

I think of Milarepa often. I mean why do we want to be so lackluster with our lives- blame it on america, blame it on tantra. What’s on the other end of the cord. Whose listening to your thoughts. Why is this insincerity enough. The roots go deep, obviously we’ve been engaging our self deception forever. The pain isn’t that nobody cares about us- really. It’s that we ourselves don’t care about us. It’s become a bad habit – how we go about getting our shallow needs filled. Trying to bridge a gap, feed a void that can’t be known. I think of Milarepa and what it’s truly going to take. To suffer for the right thing- things aren’t different now, those truths don’t change- the lie only grows more solid and our imagination that we have become something we’re not- more desperate- to cling to any ridiculous false hope of position or accomplishment. As if any of this is the meaning of our life. As if we can squeeze in liberation from samsara after we get home from our important careers. As if being a “bodhisattva” entails being an enabler. It’s all just fear and laziness driving the lack of clarity. Of course we all need money- but our life is meant to be a mandala not a box. We are the center of our doings. We create all possibility for ourselves by our most purified desires. The vein is pulsing with desire to be fed, and like an addict we pump it full of more confusion and pain- it will never work- and you do know that. You can’t ever get anything here that will make you happy you know that too. Stop wasting time, we’re getting older every second. We are on the journey to meet Death and we act like we are possibly headed somewhere else. We don’t deal with our neurosis, instead we cover it with more world fog. We can’t win enough arguments, wear enough titles, get enough education or spotlights on us- we really do know that- and yet day by day we act as if it can somehow be enough while we waste the precious moment of immaculate art on gray materialistic filth. We clog and congest our souls with delusions of grandeur and self importance. We ourselves fear death because we ourselves are a lie. It all falls away, the face name and body. All that is left is the echo we answer. Thoughts words and actions – make them sublime. Otherwise the gray day goes on, the murky night wraps its pitiful legs around forever. And we get slower and sadder with time- and our eyes become hollow and dull. Look in that mirror long and hard for the one you’ve disowned, the one who loves only God, not what you are now substituting pretending it’s doable, it isn’t. Don’t wait until the end to see how deep those karmic grooves go when we keep wearing away at our worn out lives. Why have you left yourself all alone in that emptiness. Nobody can ever see us but ourselves. That’s how far we can ever reach anything or anyone. There’s nothing out there, you know that. We all do, and it’s scary. Our pristine dreams fade from aspiration to desperation and there’s no self respect in that. Career, status, ownership. It’s so dim. The moon is full, we should end this chapter and go to the mountain top metaphorically- literally- and we should learn to fly. That’s what this life is for. Not dinner parties and pre-school cupcakes. But bones and ash and flame after flame of prayer made manifest -meaning you have evidence of your divinity because you know now it wasn’t ever God, it was always you. Sharada Devi

5 thoughts on “it was always you”

  1. I would so much like to deny that any of what you wrote applies to me, at all. I wish that it were all a lie, what you wrote. But, instead, it cuts to the core. The truth of the matter. It is everything. I escape at times…only to be driven back into my delusions. I make “progress” with my daily meditations and devotional rituals, but even those, at times, are watered down and interrupted by thoughts. I keep doing it though, and I keep praying that it will get easier with practice. I have a mirror on my altar, that sits on Buddha’s lap, so my mantra and prayer reflect back into my heart.

    Solitude suits me these past few months, and am alone ninety percent of the time. It helps. Waking up…doing the morning thing then walking dogs along the beach and in the woods. I don’t have to have conversations with anyone – only the cordial “hello” when eyes meet along a walk. I have more time for meditation, journaling, writing, painting, singing…it feels right and good. No longer saddled with a relationship and having to plan meals or what we are going to do, although, I do miss that physical connection/presence. It’s okay though…I feel more settled and undivided. And, there is always, my cat.

    So, I just keep stepping out of my own way.

    “Look in that mirror long and hard for the one you’ve disowned,
    the one who loves only God…….

    ……..bones and ash and flame after flame of prayer made manifest –
    meaning you have evidence of your divinity
    because you know now
    it wasn’t ever God,
    it was always you. ”

    “THOUGHTS, WORDS, AND ACTIONS – make them sublime. ”

    Thank you for this post, Sharada Devi, it is SO powerful….

    Love, Chandra Ma

    1. You’re welcome. I am happy to hear of your relentless commitment to the lonely life of God love❤️ Because there can be a million people and that won’t change the small quiet eternal light you hold. The light big enough to carry the moon and stars to the sun…

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