"May we give all sentient beings safe passage through our minds." - Scott Adams (redo)
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Sunday, June 01, 2008
Sunday Satsang
In this moment, we are always at the mercy of the Whole.
The mind weaves its web of pretend security that sort of
buffers our perception of this, but in any moment, anything
can happen to us. We are so here, at the mercy of whatever
wants to catch us. When we are completely unprepared,
naked, clueless and just here, there is a rightness about it.
A softness and vulnerable feeling, but also a solid feeling
of sitting on the throne of the Beloved, so sweetly open.
If I'm not protecting myself from this moment, what's
here? What's here to see I've never seen? What's
absolutely so new that in paying attention to it, every-
thing I thought I knew can drop away?
We give ourselves mercy when we dare to be here
without all of our stories of what must be wrong with us,
what must need solving, andwhat must be done in order
to just be here. When we give ourselves abreak and
simply let ourselves be.
Now we can come to this moment, delivered from the
weight of what our mind says must be, and instead find
out what is. If we don't go to the mind, there's not much
happening. And what is happening, what we can find
happening if we don't go to the mind, just wants to be
touched by us. Seen by us. Embraced by us. Let be, as it is.
I sit up here at your mercy. I let you see all the way into the
heart of me, without rehearsal or protection, without a clever
plan. And that's what I invite from you also. Then it's just
beauty beholding beauty.
Not much here for the mind, in terms of entertainment, or
anything to chew on. So if there's anyone who's used to being
in their mind, you might find yourself wondering where the
action is. It's in your heart, in your gaze, in your beholding.
In the complete flinging open of the doors, in the complete
offering of what's there. Just to rest here forever.
When we look out from Love, all is already done. Already fed.
We just forget that we're fullness and Love, and then we go l
ooking for it, trying to get back to it. Trying to get somebody
to listen to us, just for five minutes. Instead of remembering,
"Oh my God, I'm the feast itself!" So we can say, "I don't always
feel like the feast, but I am the feast itself. I sometimes feel like
a pack of a thousand beggars looking for the feast, but I am the
feast itself." That's why the beggars come and visit you; that's
why there are so many of them. They heard a rumor that you're
a feast and they didn't wait for the invitations to be printed.
They came running.
It is not theoretical that we are Love. It's not something we
have to wait to connect to when we've said enough prayers
or sat enough hours in meditation. If we wander just for a
moment away from the tyranny of the mind, we either run
into Love Itself or a beggar. And if we pat the beggar and say,
"Oh, my dear, you've come for the feast! Here I am," we return
to love. When we forget we're the feast, and we start thinking
that the beggar is a sign of something very horrible; then we
just run around in crazy beggar clothes for awhile. So we
slow down to hear and let ourselves be completely consumed
by these beggars we've been kicking out the door, locking in the
basement, tying up and telling to go away for the last however
long. Let them have you.
Radiant beauty - that's what you are. You can't help it, even
on your worst days. We forget to look for the radiant beauty in
ourselves and outside of ourselves. We're conditioned to look for
the slime. We don't need to participate in our own sliming; we
don't. When you rest in Love, all is done. All is good. All is perfect.
All is well.
Pride is interesting. How the frightened body-mind builds and
builds and builds its little tower up here all by itself, above
everything, out of the reach of what you fear might get you.
And Truth just comes in and goes "Hoowagh!" And you find
yourself lying on the ground with everybody else; we all end
up on the ground. It's the only place we can come from that's true.
Stay in that beautiful, naked, not-knowing. May you live always
there. It takes a little while to get used to it. It's very, very raw
and uncomfortable, and plenty of people will let you know that
that's true, complete with details about what you should be doing
to make them more comfortable about your willingness to hang
out in the void. Let's just call it what it is. People say they're being
helpful, but they're freaked out. Bless their hearts. You don't need
any help; you are right at the core and center of the Truth.
No worries. Just perfect. Naked, clueless. Me too.
Jeannie Zandi
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