love, love, love

Years ago, bearing the world on my shoulders, trying to live by obligations and expectations my world imploded. I fell into myself and into the dark. I went into the woods and prayed. I prayed hard. I chanted while I climbed mountains. I asked for guidance. I asked of anyone who might be listening to me. The Trees, the Rocks, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Zoraster, Spider or Toad. It didn’t matter, I just needed an answer that came from beyond my limited mind. Slowly the answer came, in bits and drabs. No one in particular answered. I wasn’t born again to Jesus, he never answered my prayer. I was born again to myself. For although I kept hoping someone else would answer the answer came as my mind opened. Yea, me, my mind, that’s right. The spark and answer are right here and I am the source of my own answer. I am my own guru, just as you are yours.

God is here and tangible, right at your fingertips, damn, right in your fingertips. Touching the keyboard, God is at play, putting on your pajamas, God is at play, making love to your mate, God is at play. This is it, this is all there is. Enjoy it while it lasts.

I don’t think I’ll take the burner’s temple wisdom to: “skid into my grave sideways and totally worn out shouting ‘holy shit, what a ride.’” Instead I’ll aim to dance into the grave, like Keriac did, riding the sound of didgeridoo, surrounded by lovers, dancing a small beautiful dance of love and leaning on whoever will carry me.