So. Here we are. Sitting upon our lotus-leaf
pondering the paradox
that there is no inner and outer to this experience
of exist-ing.
Not only is the fabric of our being
felted from the Primordial Awareness we can’t
escape,
but every appearance we consider
‘other’
is similarly ex-pressed from that source.
And if there’s no inside/outside,
no this/that
no me/other
it means this:
there’s nowhere to hide
We love to think that our quiet denial
of the pain too unspeakable to countenance,
is safely hidden from view.
Or, and this is more common,
we are no longer aware of it
as it vibrates below the limn
of our consciousness.
Perhaps we stitch together satisfying stories about
our awakened understanding.
(Or the absence thereof.)
Yet in moments of self-honesty we can see:
our scars go before us
laying out the trajectory of our lives.
Every stitch in the tapestry
of our magnificent ‘me’
is displayed across the cosmos.
All is known.
Because there’s nowhere for anything
to hide.
This is exquisite.
It’s a realisation that throws open the possibility
that the wound we have spent a lifetime
avoiding, can become the catalyst
for an unimaginable new View.
How come?
No inside/outside, remember?
No separation, remember?
Only One immeasurable inconceivable Whole is happening.
It’s like an eyeless eye.
It
knows Itself
intimately, lovingly
in all the discarded, denied details
of our every wound,
every misdeed and regret,
every choked-back emotion,
every failure to love…
and still It loves us
nourishes
holds
and
lives us
so
how could we not be safe?
we can come out
we can stand up
we can own up
we can shine
wholly whole and holy
Sorry to shout. But this matters. Evidence of unintegrated primal pain is displayed for all to see across our world at this time. Imagine what the scene would be like if emotionally mature grown-ups were carrying the best interests of humanity forward, rather than beings frozen at the age of three? This is probably as close as I will ever come to making a political statement.
Image copyright Ma Deva Padma, Existence, from the Osho Zen Tarot
echoes from emptiness 
Thanks for this Miriam. So much here that’s meaningful to me – no longer aware of our quiet denial, it’s been hidden from view so well we can’t find it anymore, forget it was ever there. It’s like this until it’s completely clear there’s really nowhere to hide and giving way to that…
Tiramit – so good to hear from you. You have certainly had some rough water to navigate these last months, and reading your posts I’ve more than once been prompted to contact you. Your comment is yet another prompt – is it ok for me to email you? ML
Hi Miriam, yes please do that. The best email for this is dhammafootsteps@gmail.com
Hope to hear from you soon
T
Lovely wisdom, cold and clear as a mountain brook! To your point about 3 year olds, currently here in the US, we are undergoing a terrible buffeting by one. May it be over soon.
Thanks for your generous comment John.
Regarding the “buffeting” you mention – we are feeling it here as well. It ricochets around the globe. My reference was indeed to that phenomenon, but also applies to Mr Russia and Mr Philippines and Mr Syria and and and…
Sigh.
this is like cool and loving water flowing over me, telling me that it is not serious to live
We inhabit a womb of creativity Nina… and since we already are/have all we require, I think our prayer should not be “Let us pray” but “Let us play”!
❤
Exquisitely true and simply said.
What to do but bow? Your five words are a sweet blessing to me Vicki. Thank you. x
Excellent, and prompts repeated readings, you touch a deep nerve here, Dear Miriam: “the wound we have spent a lifetime avoiding, can become the catalyst for an unimaginable new View.” ❤
Thank you and a deep bow to you, dear Bob. The primal wound is indeed a “deep nerve” – one that seems to ache more insistently with age. For this silver-haired crone, attending to the ache while held in the loving arms of Presence has been simultaneously harrowing and heavenly. I now know what the word “integration” means.
[More silver hair! Haha]
❤
Bernadette Roberts once suggested that such integration would be a natural aspect of the maturity that comes with age, but sadly it seems that many are still fixated in infantile and adolescent forms of emotional adaptation, despite their chronological age, and thus the ones who can approach real integration are still the exception to the rule. I am glad to count you among those rare ones, Dear Miriam, who have opened themselves to limitless expansion and conscious integration! ❤