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Love Has Never Left

I tossed and turned, unable to make comfort for my body or mind. Minutes ran into hours as I stared into the dark, heavy and inescapable space that matched the place my heart and mind had explored earlier in the day. How could it be so?

I'd spent the last few months diving into depths with ancient, sacred and illumined teachers . . . a journey that began more than a decade ago when I witnessed the very real presence of my recently deceased father beside me for a moment in time that was otherwise nothing out of the ordinary.

And just today, in another ordinary moment, my eyes gazed at the softness of clouds in late Spring and I was overcome with such joy that my heart sang and it's body forgot itself. Tears of love pooled in that place that told the story of my soul.

I came to know God as a small girl who equally loved and feared him. And yes, without question, that small girl knew it was a Him. He saved me from myself, many a night when I went to him in prayer, invoking our connection with "Our Father". I never once asked him to save me from Hell. I did however, without reservation, ask him to bless others - by name and there were many. Every night for 40 years.

One day I heard a message back, not with my ears or my head, but with my heart . . . "Why do you believe what you believe when you continue to suffer within, when you have committed sacrifice after sacrifice and nearly broke everyone around you in an effort to abstain from sin? Question and realize my child."

The first years of the resulting purgatory lasted for what felt like lifetimes. And eventually, questioning everything led to questioning myself. There was the realization.

All that was good fed into the tributary of my spirit, where it was ample to create abiding joy had the tributary itself not been affected by many tiny holes that no amount of pressure applied to could mend. So I stopped trying to repair them and instead stayed there in that current, letting it show me.

The most beautiful unfolding came upon me, little by little . . . until I began the path of yoga with many teachers. The dams opened and all the holes smiled at me lovingly as I floated by . . . "here you are at last".

Love entered then and she has never left me.

With love residing within me now, the world reflected in that way. The uplifting and healing current happened every day and even in the worst moments of my life. The God I knew now I knew better - bigger, beyond name and so expansive it could hold all of creation and all that could be named and all that could not.

But today I wondered why do so many still hold hate when now I know it is pain and not reverence and not peace - not for me. I said, "let me type this question into prakriti's all knowing abode with many limitations (the internet) - Why do some Christians fear yoga?".

In the dead of night when no sleep was forthcoming, the flawed source I sought my right knowledge in said because demons enter your mind when you meditate and this is not okay according to the bible. It said you would become evil and not save-able after knowing the self without external guidance.

I read all the comments where many agreed and cited verses from the Vedas as evidence. After studying the bible for 40 years (part of that time attending Catholic university) and studying the Vedas for many years afterwards, I knew the vast untruths of what was being sold in the name of being righteous and good.

I wanted to be angry, but could not. Alas, ignorance and fear were the game being played and anger for me would be the admittance price to that game.

I wanted to solve it then. But I could find within me no wish to convert anyone. And so it was sadness that overtook me.

After all these thousands of years, here we are . . . . seemingly privileged in our own ways and divided in some or another way, when we could all be resting in bliss on the shoulders of so many profound spiritual teachers, all of us living in love, shining with light, giving in service and sharing this beautiful home with all sentient beings and all creatures, great and small.

And I met myself there in that knowing, realizing this . . . that what I long for already exists - within me. And peaceful easy sleep came upon me.

And as for me, at my cremation, my infinite soul would leap in even greater joy if those gathered sang "Hari Naam Tat Sat Tat Sat Hari" (transcend form, remove bondage of this body so I may experience, without end, the sacredness beyond concept).

Sat Nam Beloveds -

With love stronger than fear,


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