The Path
To take
the path
is not your
decision.
It will open before
you
someday
around your
feet,
whether you will
it,
or not,
and then you
will find
that
to follow
the path
is to fall irrevocably
in love
with everything.
It is to feel
the jagged edged
wound
at the
heart of all,
while feeling it's inner
wholeness
too,
and even it's healing,
all at once,
in a single infinite
moment,
between the
in-breath
and the
out-breath
of Divine
Love's
respiration.
It is to walk deeply
into the forest,
and the city,
and to find
in both,
solitude enough,
friendship enough,
and to cling
to
neither.
It is to become
the remembering
mirror
for the faces of
all we
meet,
reflecting back
only the forgotten
beauty
of their original
face;
while seeking our own
within.
It is to see:
in the stone,
the star from which it came;
in the leaf,
the seed from which it came;
in the water,
the cloud from which it came;
and in all that is,
the Love from which it came;
and then to
bow deeply
before
this
mystery.
It is to walk at the pace
of the slowest,
joyfully.
It is to run at the pace
of the fastest,
joyfully.
It is to dance with both,
joyfully.
It is to choose wonder
over fear.
It is to choose depth
over surface.
It is to choose happiness
over cynicism.
It is to choose love
over hate.
It is to understand that
these are
choices,
not feelings
or reactions,
and then
to choose
them
again,
and
again,
and
again.
It is to break
one's heart
again,
and
again,
and
again.
For
without
the breaking
how would the holy light
in you
escape
to shine out in the dark?
How would the holy spark
in you be released
to set the world burning
anew?
It is to begin,
always,
in the most sacred place
there is:
the here
and
the now,
and to dwell there
always,
in the flame
of the
burning bush.
It is to dissolve
in your own tears
so
completely,
that only the truly
you
survives.
It is to empty
fully,
so as to
be
filled.
It is to befriend
the holy dark
of death,
daily,
until she becomes
a sister
who will,
smilingly,
at the end
of the path,
usher
you
home
into
Love's
abode.
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