Welcome, brother and Brothers, friends and Fathers !
Though this one is unlike what the Vatican processes and awards with a mind to self-glorify or further exalt itself among the laity in select congregations, the sharing here is absolutely open and without a name or idol with which closed groups build themselves up and identify. Your denomination, my dear, is irrelevant and just doesn’t matter.
It starts with intelligence, which each of us are gifted, and the curiosity it is never without until quenched with knowledge sure and certain. An unceasing stream of doubt, drive and fear claims us in between. Life goes on with satisfaction and dissatisfaction in helical flow through our very vitality, and actions to keep ourselves distracted from that stare back from our core : Where;s love in this vastness, both within an without, for me ?
But I do love myself, don’t I ? And how Mary loves me while we give this and take that ? There are differences, what would we be without them, but how concilliable they are ! But that isn’t when we most feel the howls of unquenched quest to know for sure. There is much that I know, and how, but all put together they are no match to that smoking patch of doubt and despair, palpable and alive.
It fades, like the horns of a donkey, during the day while we are in familiar environment, among familiar people, at familiar actions, warm in the assurance of all we do to secure this familiar stage for the future. Yet, there are moments and, if you care, hours and days, when we can’t avoid reflecting upon the quality of our own being : the part still lies without that consuming embrace of the whole.
The key to merger lies in that patch of smoking black, of doubt. It made all the difference between living in light and being cacooned in real illusion. And not one of us can quit the game before finding ourself in the wake of knowledge clear, final and absolute.
Hotel California would be a good metaphor.
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We know, the path is to be our own. Only we are aware of the journey so far, the continuity happening now. We do find it too private a matter to share with anybody who is not a bosom friend — a natural, as mother and father are. So is the life teacher except when we discover transforming emanations that cut the clutter within us; he grounds us from that state of hovering qualified by a parched love in the heart and little understanding of that substratum which is impelling us along our experiences in space-time universe, in this human order wherein love craves and power rules.
It’s a game in which one goes from wrong to wrong and hopes to reach right.
First, the heat of separation
And thirst of love, then;
Says Kabir, thence I knew
The fond pine in my heart
For beloved, and merger.
The way described is spiritually coded : All great attributes in our nature exist in three prominent and co-incident domains — material, mental and spiritual — from manifest gross to its unmanifest substratum. The physical, lusting love marked in separation must subsume in the emotional, natured with thirst to be with, and that in the constant and patient pine for mergence of identity.