String of pearls
A tender place now lives in this heart, for the act of writing a reflection of the day’s experience, the territory explored by the psyche, emotions, and self.
The “right up against it-ness” of lived experience presses against that threshold of self and other until the threshold itself consumes the territory of both subject and object, leaving only the threshold taste of experience, an endless string of pearls, iridescent, radiant, naturally perfect from beginningless beginning and endless end.
Somewhere in this metaphor lives an act of metacognition, some self discovering self, and of that skillful means of awareness, a flow of wisdom love arises and pours forth, nourishing we relative acts of writing, acts of longing, acts of pain, distinction, trust, and surrender.
It’s a new moon today, in Aries they say. “How can you approach your greatest fears as your teachers and guides…” they say, or rather I should say, she said. This is the threshold inquiry for me just now, the denial of the Christ, the rejection of our own perfect nature… Thresholds thresholds one and the same.
I think this is the first time I’ve written since the privilege of last week’s attending Garab rDorje’s Lion’s Gaze Teaching with a very special and precious teacher in the company of one of the most remarkable Sangha I have ever had the honor to attend.
There was a certain sweet irony in the week’s teachings on the immediate and unmissable nature of awakening that came at the very end. One of the precious teachers with whom I had had less time during the retreat (simply due to the mildly cumbersome task of bringing a paralyzed body to the place of work) offered the gesture.:
Dan had somewhere to be and in the deeply moved state of the 120 or so participants, our final questions, expressions of gratitude, and goodbyes were running a little over time. Just as one remarkable gentleman was putting a very deep and sincere question, the answer blared loudly from the room next door to where Dan was sitting on the video with us all, “Love! Loove is the aaanswer!”
Gretchen was playing us out, drowning any possibility that Dan could hear and respond to our devotion. “It’s not all about you.” She had told us a bit sternly and with great love, just moments before.
The song played on, the final moments of our weeklong efforts together reduced so that simple perfection, the vibration of sound and song and love and celebration, dancing on, one moment arising in essential purity and giving way only to that next perfect pearl.
I experienced the extremes of heartbreaking humility and moments of unspeakable infinity in that journey. The company was young and old alike, men and women, each and every one devoted to the simple task of breaking the lineage of suffering and confusion that flows through each of us from birth to death until that cycle is cut or simply dropped like the husk that it is, and the fruit emerges, always having been.
I emerge to the imminent closing of escrow on the house we’ve called home for nearly 15 years, the final days of searching for the next temporary abode, the ongoing search for care partners to help us ground this little celebration of keeping the Kabir going, and the general busyness of a life of love.
As the astrology suggests, “if the intensity is rising in your life know you are not alone…” This seems strikingly familiar. The trip and tumble I took starting on Thanksgiving day 2019 has come merely full circle and what the road will be ahead still lays just beyond the crest of the hill.
This new moon day has acted, as often Sundays do, as a reset for things to come. As the formal team is still short support for weekend mornings, Nova came through again to help me begin my day. Yesterday and today, daughter in tow we celebrated simple friendship and caring for of one another.
Files scanned, papers shredded (to the delight of the nine-year-old at the helm of the task), projects organized, and correspondence made, this week I will be interviewing new possible partners, investigating new possible homes, getting lunch with new friends, getting scans of my interior to investigate possible sources of recent health disruption, and introducing a young family to their new home, and likely a thing or two else as well.
As the busyness persists, I will stay vigilant for that crack in the moment, that place of threshold where the doer, the doing, the done and undone become one.
May all beings be well and happy…
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…