I meditated on the front porch yesterday morning.

I awoke with the thought going through my mind that if I allow myself to penetrate and be penetrated by the world, I will enter life fully, and at the same time become identified with the Self, the Absolute.

As I sat on a chair on the porch, watching the rising sun, Thomas the cat greeted me, then returned to eating a dead animal under the oak tree in the front yard. I wondered how long the tree will last;  its top branches are dead, bereft of leaves. The peach sun painted the green grass, the individual dew drops appearing as tiny, glistening suns, while birds sang and crows cawed. Newly spun strands of spider web traversed the green grass– glistening peach threads, wavering in the slight breeze. The sun, keeping its course, climbed on an angle. I took pleasure watching Thomas standing between myself and the sun. He stood on the road in the midst of the sun’s work. The sun painted the road with  peach and blue strips as it shone between the trees. I had recoiled and grabbed his paws gently a few minutes ago when he clawed my linen pants.

Life lived at a distance is no life at all. It must be penetrated by my Self-connection. In this way there is no fear because there is no separation. I found it hard to write and watch my breathing at the same time– but I must learn to do so if I wish to remain in the witness state. Insects floated in the transparent air– I found this to be miraculous.

The air was heavy with a cool dampness. A dew droop gleamed torquoise, then emerald, then blue, like the Blue Pearl. I asked myself, “How can I abandon such beauty to watch the pen move across the page?”  But I do,  as I remember to breathe the cool, damp, air freely, openly, without restriction. In this way it is penetrating each cell of my body and healing me. The earth and the sun heal me when I do not restrict them, but open myself fully through sustained awareness.

Thomas and I reached a compromise. He returned, all fur and muscle and love, pawing my pants with his claws retracted this time. But then, he nipped my ring finger with his teeth, fresh from foul deeds.

I wondered if Brian was awake and I thought of coffee. Mosquitoes arrived and buzzed around my head as I listened reverently to the throaty, liquid warble of an unseen, unidentified bird.

I wrote in my journal: I am liquid light. The whole world is liquid light. I am immersed in and am part of this liquid light world.

 

Let the sense of wonder be constant. 

— Gurumayi Chidvilasananda