Thunder Within

Thunder Within

I embark on a journey off the map, off the yoga mat, out of time, and out of orbit.  Against Father’s wishes (naturally!). I find myself sitting in a dense forest of consciousness.  Human consciousness.  Light consciousness.  Flower consciousness.  Tree consciousness.  Stone consciousness.  Insect consciousness. God consciousness.  

Before all grows dark here, there is opportunity to read Spirituality and the Writer by Thomas Larson. 

No need to move the body.  Let the eyes move across the page.  Let the mind process the meaning of words, but that is not all the consciousness experiences now.  There is also the awareness of primal stillness, a silence so heavy with presence that we could wear it as a warm garment in the cold Himalayas.  Let the presence of primal stillness be the robe you wear! And look at the spaces between these words!  Sense the borderless, the unfathomable, limitless uncertainty, the heartbeat of Ardhanareeshwara and Saint Augustine.  Sense the synaptic activity within the brain of both Kabir and Leo Tolstoy.  Indulge the solitary visions of Dattatreya and Julian of Norwich. Is it possible to open up and allow the tears of Rumi and Margery Kempe to burn these reading eyes?  Is it possible to listen so deeply and with such longing that by reading these words, these ears hear a fierce roar that is a collective cry from the depths of all these beings’ collective consciousness…? Is it possible to open this heart even more to allow every word such pulmonary impact as to oxygenate the blood flowing through these veins now? 

Thomas Larson’s personal inquiry into the history of spiritual writing ignites fire within me.  Poised aflame in this way, I embark upon a literary pilgrimage, a word yatra… There are no temple walls, no paths, no teachers, no teachings.  There is only willingness to be sucked into this black hole that is the unambivalent, exuberant absorption into the subject of Larson’s inquiry: contemplate the extent and the ways of “the writer’s ability to bring his spirituality into syntactic being.”

If only I could shout out and make echo my cry through the tunnels of time:  “Beloved ones, all your words have a passionate Lover…  Yogi Ma! 

I deeply appreciate the reverent way Laron writes about Peter Mattheissen’s Snow Leopard. His respect for Mattheissen’s process presents the layers and beauty of the inner journey that inspire me to be alert to every eternity within this moment. Zen with infinite Zero within one single breath that is with me and one with the Pavan Guru.

So, I add Thomas Larson to my ever-growing list of men for whom I chant So Purkh.  I cannot say that I am chanting for any particular reason or means to any end. I have lost faith and am not religious. I simply love the feeling of this Shabad on my tongue and the way it dances on the upper palate of my mouth. Delicious! I roar. Delicious! It’s pure and simple infinite sensual pleasure.  Roaring the So Purkh Shabad makes my heart grow large enough to fit everything into its embrace.  Roaring the So Purkh Shabad gives me strength to fall madly in love with myself and the universe. Thomas Larson and many of these other men will never know that I roar So Purkh on their behalf (such is the ignorance of men!). Oh why is it that sometimes I still like to squirm and wonder and wrestle over a maddening contemplation: what difference does it make to chant So Purkh for men and total strangers? And when this line of inquiry makes me mad, I roar that Shabad some more. Beloved Guru Ram Das, can you hear me?    

Thank you, Spirituality and the Writer for being here with me.  As I go, I hang this book upon the Pole Star.  I watch the book float weightless at midnight. I ride this book on the heaving surf of the Primordial Ocean.  And when the pages are wet with sea water, I use them to wash my body clean. I am happy. My interior horizons quiver and quake with In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God.  The beings in this beginning realm never intended books as sources of knowledge. Maybe books are beings that cradle the Word / God and bend time and space and illuminate the inner life with deeper wonder and awe. Books are the tantric shelter. Books are bridges. 

I cannot contain the expressive storm much longer. Silence between these two heart beats grows louder than thunder.  I have already begged the Primal Being make me Her / His / or Its humble scribe.  I have already roared and screamed and sang out crazy wisdom to no one. No one reads a joyful writer. Why is it that writers must always give best expression to the tortured soul to win praises from cool guys like Thomas Larson? Oh, great, have I written myself into a corner where I can finally mope and brood? Ugh! Help!

I am empty.

So, now I shall wait.  

Yogi Bhajan said the highest art is to sit and wait and let it come. Am I supposed to believe that when I had embraced with my heart the highest art is literature…? Oh, well. I have no more faith in any of it at all anymore, not art, not yoga. So now is the best moment to sit and wait and let it come. Imagine reading an endless book called The History of Waiting. Let’s hang that one on the Pole Star!

Come, thunder!  Come, lightning!  Come, all dark intensity! 

This one quiet yogi awaits You.

One Heart Fire 3

Day Three

We often lament the pain of separation from ourselves, each other, or the divine.  But perhaps there is something perfect about feeling separate and lonely.  There is something so perfect about our perceived disconnect from the One Heart.  There is something within the experience of separation that builds our longing to unite.

In his poem, Absolutely Clear, Hafiz writes:

Don’t surrender your loneliness

So quickly.

Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you

As few human

Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tongiht

Has made my eyes so soft,

My voice

So tender,

My need of God 

Absolutely

Clear.

When I grow infinitely lonely, I meditate or read a poem and try to re-ignite my longing.  I try to remember that I am here to make my way back Home.

Please join me in practicing eleven days of the Maha Gyan Agni Pranayam to honor the San Shaman of southern Africa who will Ignite the One Heart Fire on May 24, 2017 to elevate human consciousness to the Ninth Wave of Creation.

Humble Prayer:

May we use the energy of our pain of separation to launch us to the cozy center of the One Heart.  Sat Nam!

40 Days of Radiant Words

Day Seven

I like to sit quietly.  Now I reflect on the sweet practice of closing the eyes and focusing the eyeballs on the third eye point between the eyebrows.  This stimulates the optic nerves which send signals to the pituitary and pineal glands.  Over time, daily sessions of concentrating on keeping the eyes steadily focused on this brow point strengthens the intuition.  That is something radiant to celebrate.

Here are some more radiant words from The Radiance Sutras, or The Vijnana Bhairava Tantra by Lorin Roche.

Rest the attention easily in the forehead, in the eye that is made of light.  Cherish the delicate energies shimmering there.

Close your eyes for a few minutes and focus on your brow point.  Please know, peaceful Reader, that I am bowing to the delicate energies you notice shimmering there.  Sat Nam!

Please join me in practicing this meditation for 11 minutes for 40 days:  The Meditation to Develop the Radiant Body.

Question for reflection over the next 40 days:

What would I say, write, or think if I knew that whatever I say, write, or think must happen?

If you have questions or want to communicate with me, please contact me at lightforceyoga@gmail.com

third-eye

40 Days of Radiant Words

Day Six

I’d like to continue to reflect on the body as a fiesta.

Today’s radiant words are from The Radiance Sutras by Lorin Roche

Whenever you dissolve into helpless laughter–transported by a magic show, antics or jokes, having your armpits tickled, drenched by a sudden shower, or any of Nature’s tricks–dive into the source of that laughter.  Surrender to the surge of joy illuminating the essence of reality.

Let’s tickle one another’s armpits!  Let’s dwell in the body’s all-pervading sense of joy.  Feel your voice laughing.  Accept this as true reality.

May we laugh and may this laughter be an expression that connects us to our radiance.

Please join me in practicing this meditation for 11 minutes every day for 40 days:  Meditation to Develop the Radiant Body

radiance-six

40 Days of Radiant Words

Day One

According to yogic numerology, 2017 is a year to relate to the Radiant Body.

Yogis know that we are much greater than the limits of the physical body; so, cultivating awareness of all ten light bodies of consciousness is a reward and challenge of a daily yoga practice.  These are the ten bodies:  1.  The Soul Body.  2.  The Negative Mind.  3.  The Positive Mind.  4.  The Meditative Mind. 5.  The Physical Body.  6.  The Arc Line.  7.  The Aura.  8.  The Pranic Boday.  9.  The Subtle Body.  10.  The Radiant Body.

The Radiant Body implores a yogi to nourish the realms of consciousness that inspire creativity and courage.

Each day, one might ask this:  How can my unique radiant light body of my own consciousness best express its best creativity and courage in this particular time and space?

There is a meditation to practice to strengthen the radiant body.  The mantra to chant is “Ajai Alai”.

I adore this description of the mantra in The Aquarian Teacher text book: the mantra “Ajai Alai,” also known as the Ik Acharee Chand mantra is so effective that “[o]nce you recite the mantra correctly, it will give you the power that whatever you say must happen.”

I am always seduced by the promised benefits of practicing meditation, but the further I journey on my spiritual path, meditation becomes less and less a matter of something that I do in order to achieve the benefits.  Meditation becomes a habit of mind and being.  Any particular meditation receives a chance to express its own sacredness through my unique being.  Meditation is less about achieving benefits and more about the pure pleasure, pain, anger, boredom, or sadness of experiencing my own consciousness in relationship to this particular practice.

End notes in the meditation manual instruct us to chant each sound of the mantra and “hear each word as a world.”  Each word is projected from the throat and vibrates the whole head.

Yes.  I appreciate this sense: Every word is a world.  This is the kind of rich experience of reality that I am always seeking.  I am sure that I long to speak, listen to, read, and write every word as if each is an entire world.  Let me write that again…  I long to listen to every word as if it is a world.  Every word, a world.  Imagining the dimensions of words offers me a sense of reclaiming words as deep, dimensional, and sacred.  To my meditative mind, talk is never cheap.  To my meditative mind, there is no such things as empty words.  When I can consciously treat each word as a world–not just when chanting but always– then I can know how to speak and walk carefully, lightly in this world and with reverence.

I continue to cultivate a relationship with my own words so that I know their power.  That’s why most of what I want to say, write, think, or speak I try to express in the form of a humble prayer.

May I continue to walk tall, reach out and touch others with great love and royal courage. May I continue to feel the pure joy of sitting, breathing, chanting, and being.  May I vibrate the Cosmos so that the Cosmos may clear the path.  May the benefits of this practice be received by all beings.

Sat Nam!

Please join me in practicing this meditation for 40 days: Meditation to Develop the Radiant Body

 

radiance-seven

 

 

Diamond Mind, Creator’s Mind

Day Three

The mind produces one thousand thoughts per blink of the eye.  Suppose every one of those were thoughts of devotion, thoughts of prayer, thoughts of discipline, thoughts of song, thoughts of beauty, thoughts of excellence, thoughts of service, thoughts of Beloveds, thoughts of compassion, thoughts of infinity, thoughts of sweet longing, thoughts of grace–wouldn’t that be something?

mandala.1