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bliss
August 2009 
meditation on misery
Posted on Jun 20th, 2006
by 
uncompromise
uncompromise
We’ve all been here before, I know.
At least, if we haven’t, it’s unlikely we don’t know someone who has.
Misery.
But not the visceral, gut-wrenching, throat-crushing, i-don’t think-I-can-breathe type of misery.
Misery of the contained kind, the controlled kind, the i-don’t-think-i-can-let-it-all-in kind.
Misery of the just-another-beer-or-cigarette-and-I’ll-be-alright kind.
Yes, that kind of misery.
The misery of the every-day every-man, the misery of the broken-hearted, broken-willed, broke-down life.
This is the misery we really should dread, because it is the misery we use to convince ourselves that we are alive.
Except of course that we use it to keep ourselves from life.
It is here, on the edges of insanity, that Love comes and claims us for her own.
Five hundred years before me, Rumi beckoned his followers to “ask for madness in Love”.
It’s an odd exhortation – after all, surely what we all want in a seemingly increasingly turbulent world is a measure of certainty and stability?
But I have never been able to resist the siren song of Love, and have found myself again and again broken apart on the stony shore of her temple.
Some would say that I am merely a bad sailor – and there is no doubt a measure of truth in this. Others, of a more romantic persuasion would admire my resolute stand for passionate, life-altering love in a world of designer emotion.
Personally, I see a measure of truth in both.
The real question, however, is what comes before, during and after the experience of love?
Yes. Love itself.
Not the love of perception. Not the love of two bodies, two minds, two hearts – one for the other. Love itself as unspoken devotion to Love, Love as unyielding, uncompromising, unending. Love as it has always been, before there was anyone here to see it, and anyone here to forget it.
Love itself requires no witness, and demands that the witness must perish for Love to be known in completeness.
This is the wedding I’ve been planning.
This is the family I’ve been praying for.
This is the love of my life, she who will never leave me, but who I must bow before and dance as she warmly invites me to my own execution.
Let me whet the stone with my tears as you sharpen the blade that pierces me with never ending sweetness.
This is my laughter.
This is my song.
This is the fullness of my heart, the blood that enlivens me, the tenderest kiss, the intoxicating knowing.
This is who I am.
Yes!
At least, if we haven’t, it’s unlikely we don’t know someone who has.
Misery.
But not the visceral, gut-wrenching, throat-crushing, i-don’t think-I-can-breathe type of misery.
Misery of the contained kind, the controlled kind, the i-don’t-think-i-can-let-it-all-in kind.
Misery of the just-another-beer-or-cigarette-and-I’ll-be-alright kind.
Yes, that kind of misery.
The misery of the every-day every-man, the misery of the broken-hearted, broken-willed, broke-down life.
This is the misery we really should dread, because it is the misery we use to convince ourselves that we are alive.
Except of course that we use it to keep ourselves from life.
It is here, on the edges of insanity, that Love comes and claims us for her own.
Five hundred years before me, Rumi beckoned his followers to “ask for madness in Love”.
It’s an odd exhortation – after all, surely what we all want in a seemingly increasingly turbulent world is a measure of certainty and stability?
But I have never been able to resist the siren song of Love, and have found myself again and again broken apart on the stony shore of her temple.
Some would say that I am merely a bad sailor – and there is no doubt a measure of truth in this. Others, of a more romantic persuasion would admire my resolute stand for passionate, life-altering love in a world of designer emotion.
Personally, I see a measure of truth in both.
The real question, however, is what comes before, during and after the experience of love?
Yes. Love itself.
Not the love of perception. Not the love of two bodies, two minds, two hearts – one for the other. Love itself as unspoken devotion to Love, Love as unyielding, uncompromising, unending. Love as it has always been, before there was anyone here to see it, and anyone here to forget it.
Love itself requires no witness, and demands that the witness must perish for Love to be known in completeness.
This is the wedding I’ve been planning.
This is the family I’ve been praying for.
This is the love of my life, she who will never leave me, but who I must bow before and dance as she warmly invites me to my own execution.
Let me whet the stone with my tears as you sharpen the blade that pierces me with never ending sweetness.
This is my laughter.
This is my song.
This is the fullness of my heart, the blood that enlivens me, the tenderest kiss, the intoxicating knowing.
This is who I am.
Yes!
Access: PublicTagged with: bliss, death, insanity, love, meditation, misery, truth, enlightenment, self-realisation
Absolutely stunning and confoundingly beautiful, Cameron. I hope You don't mind if I save it on my computer. I am shaking from the purity of it.
Erik
In Tibetan Buddhism there is a dakini called Vajrayogini who is naked and in a state of orgasmic bliss at all times. She carries a blade in her right hand, wears a garland of skulls around her neck, and in her left hand she holds a skull from which she is drinking blood. She is the goddess of the urge towards awakening, the spark that lights and maintains the intensity of the flame which will ultimately lead to full awakening.
Vajrayogini has be known to appear in human form many times. Yeshe Tsogyal is probably the best know historical example of her incarnation, just as the Dalai Lama is considered a human incarnation of Chenrezig. But among those people who may never go down in history or gain international recognition, among we everyday people, there walk many manifestations of the maha dakini. Sounds like you've met a few.
Beautiful.
I echo E Buzz. Stunning.