My gait halts. Breathing slows, deepens. From my breast swells a transparent cloud, invisible but real and virtually touchable. Mist. It envelops me but is weightless. In fact, buoyant. My ears can hear, my eyes can see, my heart can feel…
I am being loved.
That moment originates within. The divine within. It seems to be the Spirit. Its origin, my soul.
When you lock eyes with mine for a moment, in pure loving compassion and a fleeting completeness of knowing, such moments have no words. It is the fullness of words.
A momentary connection, soul to soul. Being loved by the other. It originates from you. YOU are divine. God loving me. You loving me. The distinction melts to meaninglessness. Mystics call it non-duality.
From within me. From outside of me, from within you, to me…???
See?
No words.
No words, but stark, stark, soul-moving reality.
A fullness of knowledge.
Sacred.
Spookily intimate.
Spooky, but not fearsome. There is no fear in that moment.
Why do we call it a moment? As if it passes? It was the present. Why does the present become the past? Was the moment lost? To the past?
How/why do we conceive a past or future? Only the present exists. Does the past not exist? Does the future not exist? Just because we can conceive them, does conception mean existence? Are they real, or are they artificial conceptions?
Why do we let those sacred moments dissolve?
Or do we not *let* them?
We instead *make* them pass?
Perhaps, more simply, those moments are not up to us?
They are not moments we control?
They are moments given to us.
By what? Your divinity? My divinity?
Do we “snap out of” those moments because they are too much for us? I believe so. Why else does something that seems so fearlessly perfect for a moment not seem fearlessly perfect for an eternal string of moments? Why is it fleeting? What flees? Seems like it can’t be the divinity within us which flees from the divinity of another. But perhaps it is.
Perhaps divinity is always in some kind of motion. Perhaps the Spirit is ever-moving, alive and never still? Then why do contemplative mystics cherish stillness achieved? Is it because, when their whole human persona is still, it is then that they can perceive the perpetual movement of divinity?
Neil D. 2020-11-28
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