I remember a time when life seemed a drag, dull assignment. Like a jail sentence, locked within my emotions. I wanted to go through life as fast as I could. “When I’m through with it,” I thought, “I will be at peace. I’ll be free.” Yet, there always remained the awareness of peace and freedom beneath all suffering.
I returned from suicide with such knowingness–through the memories of peace and freedom deeper than the pain. But are peace and freedom separate from each other? And isn’t there freedom when there’s peace? There are choices we face and decisions we make in the moments of our daily lives. Yet that ‘deeper knowledge’ is always present–even during our suicides.
So, who possesses the awareness of peace and freedom deeper than any suffering, like a gut-feeling surfacing above all others emotions? Can it be one’s true nature as peace itself? Why not? Some of the answers lie within your own inquiries, my friends. It is your journey.
You may seek many things in inquiry and return empty handed time after time. You may lose friends and fail in relationships. You may have to give up the possessions that require high maintenance. You may have to let go of the images about yourself and others: the identities, beliefs, and disbeliefs. All that’s left may be your thoughts and your gut feelings. You may feel like dying, over and over. Then what remains is just peace.
Thus welcome death. Welcome the vanishing of all experience regardless how tiny or grand they may have been. Welcome emptiness, welcome silence, welcome space. Welcome the awareness in which all takes place. Welcome rebirth.
And thank you, love, for your appearance. I don’t know your name, and your face is like a dream whose existence I’m sure of yet I cannot touch. But I surrender because I know that I must give up knowing in this case. And ‘that’, I understand.
Here love. I give you the pen, the paper, and I give you my hand. They are a part of your reflection, extending beyond birth and death… all the way to the Gods, back and forth, and all over again.
It was a little struggle to move out of her presence to get the camera and take the photo. I quickly grabbed a clean T- shirt and arranged it to fit to the contour of her body. It’s a snap-shot.
Later I was gazing at the photo with my eyes crossed when I noticed my feet as an extension of her wings. She showed up the day I was writing Hello Love. Or maybe she was here first, watching me, and then came the writing. I’m not certain.
I cleaned her, fed her, and I imagined myself a great-mystic-healer as I held her paralyzed feet in my hands.
The next morning I took her to the bird shelter. They said “She’s a happy bird.” And she wasn’t in pain.