The invasion was unexpected and uninvited; it happened
one numinous now
when the minder of memories had her back turned.
In crept wild wideawakeness, sleuthing
through this dormitory of sleeping stories,
slipping from cocoon to cocoon
dubbing each bedded-down memory
with its diamond dagger and pronouncing each one
an esteemed and luminous Member of the Matrix.
It lifted up the wounded and the weary,
the lost and lonesome, the betrayed
and the broken, saying
To know this pain, beloved
is to know That which is beyond time
for That alone has the capacity to be aware
and in your naked awareness of your pain
you are naturally ever-enlightened.
You imagine your enlightenment to be
other than this wretchedness –
you take it as proof that you
haven’t yet “made the shift”
yet how could pain (or pleasure) be known
if enlightenment were not fully present?
By what function of cognition
would you aware this knowing?
By both logic and experience it’s found
that the unlit light of awareness
is prior to every sensory perception.
Will you stay tucked up in your cocoon
dreaming of the mirage of your awakening
shimmering in some distant space and time
or will you blink now
and own up to your feral freedom?
– ml, 2012
Tantric Painting, India, c1800 or earlier, detail
This post was originally published on my blog this unlit light in October 2012.
17 thoughts on “wounded, weary, and wideawake”
When our stories set us free
Is an enveloping stillness
Ananda – yes, it seems paradoxical but our stories can/do set us free…
“Don’t overlook the Reality within the illusion!”
said someone very wise
Thank you for your poetic comment!
Such a treat, Miriam.
Words to touch the “essence.
Such delight, jann
Oh, your comment warms my heart, Jann.
Thank you for reading and sharing your delight.
I am still yawning as dross rains off from me. Bless you bless you I love you
Nina – such and exquisite comment – thank you
I love and cherish you, dear sister ❤
A Beautiful gift
Deepest gratitude to you
Dear, dear Scott – as Philip said
I did not meditate for a long time because I feared my pain.
In October 2018 I was moved to kneel, and I felt my pain.
It was nothing to fear, because it was me.
Clare! This is the ultimate testimony, the Big Beautiful Blink! Thank you for sharing.
Words…symbols of symbols and yet….your mastery of them makes for a deep and profound read beyond the very words themselves…which of course is your intent. THANK YOU ! And in the expression of what I feel I am myself, lost for words ! Blessings and gratitude being sent your way.
Thank you for your beautiful comment dear Lorraine. It’s so stunning to notice that one is most intimately oneself when “lost for words”!
Reminds me of this:
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter – bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.”
Oh my goodness. Yes.
What a powerful poem from Stephen Crane. Thank you so much for sharing it here, dear Tina.