Uradiance

  I feel the madness of the full moon coming on. When I laugh, when I weep, when I sing, when my mind evaporates in the silence of meditation, I have no chakras. My natal chart is a blank page where I scrawl unborn stars and erase the ones I no longer want. The sun expands and contracts in my diaphragm. The rising and falling of my belly turns the wheel of the planets. Floating between my eyebrows, the strawberry moon. A Milky Way pours down my spine into the chalice of my heart. My flesh is spun from supernova dust. The amethyst of Christ burns a black hole deep inside my brain, precisely the same black hole at the center of every galaxy. Lit with golden flames, my pituitary hangs like a chandelier in that secret chamber of darkness. My pineal gland is a Christal Eye that beams sweet fire into every cell of my body, overflowing into forests, rivers, clouds, and thirsty streets. It  is the Single Eye that Jesus called a pearl of great price, that Buddha called the diamond...

     The world is quite capable of existing without you. Grok this. Step back and repose in a sabbath of pure awareness. Creation flowers without your attempt to improve it. And you too are infinite, without any effort to improve yourself. Grok this. Un-clutch the world, release your clasp, relinquish the holding in your shoulders, your chest and belly, even for a single exhalation, even for the pause in a pulse of your left ventricle. Be “in the beginning” again. The last step is returning to the first. In original innocence, attention comes home. An ineffable sound arises, so softly, from the empty bell, ringing in your solar plexus since before creation, prior to any Word that divided matter from anti-matter, God from Man, Goddess from Woman. This is the music of the heart, Anahata, the unstruck sound that heals before any wounding. Take a sabbatical from the effort to untie the knot. You ARE the entanglement of all in all, and it is untangled by its own Wholene...

   Before the invention of thoughts we sang ourselves to sleep.The day melted back into humming, the humming into silence, silence into a breath of the Beloved. Of course the stars were not yet born, and the moon was still inside you. Lay your head on my shoulder now. Listen with all your heart, and I will teach you nothing. A Vedic text declares: “Adau Bhagavan Shabda rasahi: in the beginning, the Lord created the universe through a stream of sound.” I know you have a very subtle esoteric sadana to practice, but before you meditate, don’t forget to Hum. Om is too stuffy, just Hum like a bee. Hum beyond thinking, shattering the chrysalis of your intellect. Hum through every atom of your body, every photon of your light. Humming will strengthen your immune system, and dissolve your weary mind, so that above is below, and without is within. Hum the catastrophic dissolution of all distances into the nectar of bliss. ...