To be born into this world of sensations is an explosion. To feel that we are solid for the first time, to wear a layer of flesh over bones, to hear the sounds that create patterns, to see patterns that create colors, to absorb colors that create all of those dimensions we cannot even begin to explore, multiple universes beyond what we've ever known-- is to be initiated into this life for the first time.
We take this trip and we slowly forget where we came from, and we search and look, thinking there is a self out there, or that there is a "one" out there, a person or a god or an external meaning, an answer to all our questions. And we begin to take this search so seriously, and our role-- we forget that it is just a role. And we become ashamed of our nudity, the banality of our flesh, our hunger, and along with this shame we develop an intense need for validation, to be seen, to be heard, to be comforted, to be loved, to be touched, to be known. Except there is no one out there, because the "one" is in here, taking this trip alone.
It has been and always will be our trip alone. It is MY trip alone, mine and mine alone to take. How beautiful, how intense, how even I cannot keep up with its vibrancy and theatrical colors and ever-changing hues-- this is my trip alone. If somewhere along this trip, our paths happen to have crossed, and you tapped my shoulder gently because you wanted my attention, you needed something from me, or you knew I needed something from you, and you wanted to come along for the ride a little while, know that I welcomed you, and I invited you, and that you are so dear for it, and I love you so much for it, but I cannot carry you with me, because this is my trip alone. I have to go on my trip as you have yours to take. For what seems like seconds in lieu of lifetimes, you were a part of me, so thank you, you are beautiful, and I love you. I know it was beautiful for you too.
Interspersed in this trip we get glimpses of both our greatness and smallness, our oneness and our separation, and sometimes the joy is too much we want to share it, and other times the abandonment is too great we cannot bear it. But in those moments that we think we are alone, we are not. When we dig into the rawness of our suffering and we think we alone suffer, everyone feels it, all of the spirits, all of breaths of everyone who lives and who has ever lived and who is about to be born, we all feel it, and we are with each other. And so when you feel you are alone, you are not truly alone.
We can all access what is already there, the pivotal point in time and space where everything exists at the same time in layers that overlap such that there is no more "other". It is not a secret and there are no guarded passwords and it is open to all. But to go back there is an explosion, and we are afraid it will be too much. But we are also gifted with glimpses. If we all understood just how beautiful our shared existence is, if we only knew we are the waves to each other's oceans, we would hold no one back, we would feel what they feel, we would know their suffering not because it is "like" our own, but because it is our own. Everyone's just trying to go on this trip alone.
We have to take this trip alone, but we will also eventually realize all of our roads lead to that one road. It is all of life explained, all of death experienced, all those sensations for the first time remembered. And it is an explosion. There is no alone. There is all of us. Happening all at the same time. We are all of us all the time. There was never a separation. So it is that we have to take our trip alone. So we can remember. We. Are. Each. Other. In explosion.
We take this trip and we slowly forget where we came from, and we search and look, thinking there is a self out there, or that there is a "one" out there, a person or a god or an external meaning, an answer to all our questions. And we begin to take this search so seriously, and our role-- we forget that it is just a role. And we become ashamed of our nudity, the banality of our flesh, our hunger, and along with this shame we develop an intense need for validation, to be seen, to be heard, to be comforted, to be loved, to be touched, to be known. Except there is no one out there, because the "one" is in here, taking this trip alone.
It has been and always will be our trip alone. It is MY trip alone, mine and mine alone to take. How beautiful, how intense, how even I cannot keep up with its vibrancy and theatrical colors and ever-changing hues-- this is my trip alone. If somewhere along this trip, our paths happen to have crossed, and you tapped my shoulder gently because you wanted my attention, you needed something from me, or you knew I needed something from you, and you wanted to come along for the ride a little while, know that I welcomed you, and I invited you, and that you are so dear for it, and I love you so much for it, but I cannot carry you with me, because this is my trip alone. I have to go on my trip as you have yours to take. For what seems like seconds in lieu of lifetimes, you were a part of me, so thank you, you are beautiful, and I love you. I know it was beautiful for you too.
Interspersed in this trip we get glimpses of both our greatness and smallness, our oneness and our separation, and sometimes the joy is too much we want to share it, and other times the abandonment is too great we cannot bear it. But in those moments that we think we are alone, we are not. When we dig into the rawness of our suffering and we think we alone suffer, everyone feels it, all of the spirits, all of breaths of everyone who lives and who has ever lived and who is about to be born, we all feel it, and we are with each other. And so when you feel you are alone, you are not truly alone.
We can all access what is already there, the pivotal point in time and space where everything exists at the same time in layers that overlap such that there is no more "other". It is not a secret and there are no guarded passwords and it is open to all. But to go back there is an explosion, and we are afraid it will be too much. But we are also gifted with glimpses. If we all understood just how beautiful our shared existence is, if we only knew we are the waves to each other's oceans, we would hold no one back, we would feel what they feel, we would know their suffering not because it is "like" our own, but because it is our own. Everyone's just trying to go on this trip alone.
We have to take this trip alone, but we will also eventually realize all of our roads lead to that one road. It is all of life explained, all of death experienced, all those sensations for the first time remembered. And it is an explosion. There is no alone. There is all of us. Happening all at the same time. We are all of us all the time. There was never a separation. So it is that we have to take our trip alone. So we can remember. We. Are. Each. Other. In explosion.
RSS Feed
