Who am I?

I asked myself this question:

Who am I?

Then I sat in a silence occasionally interrupted by a thought or a sound or a memory.  For a while, the screen in my mind was filled with a nebulous, white haze.  So I asked the question again.  After a while, I found myself in the cosmos, in a star-speckled indigo darkness.

It is strange to say that I ‘found myself there’ because, in fact, ‘I’, as I generally think of myself, was not there.  Instead, this cosmic space.  So I surmised that I must be that.  Or rather, I must be that which brought it into being, or a part of that which brought it into being.

It was then that I felt the undeniable presence that pervades all of life, that is both the lowest common denominator and the grandest, limitless, all-pervading, all-encompassing presence beyond which there is nothing.  And I knew beyond doubt that I had to be, at one time the expression of it and the power of it.  That I carry within and as me, all of it.

Let’s rush madly into sweet enchantment!

Let’s rush madly into sweet enchantment. Leave your troubled heart right here for it weighs you down. Besides, who needs a heart when you’re about to enter the heart of life and love itself? No, my song of heaven, leave it here, right here. Then let’s rush madly into love’s open heart, let’s be swallowed up in timeless enchantment where every longing shall be finally put to rest.

There is nothing so sweet, so turgid, so close to bursting. Not even the plum nor the grape, ripened to perfection under the sun, compares with the fullness that awaits us in the heart of enchantment! To ponder it would simply drive one insane. Yet to enter it, ah the ecstasy! Don’t even try to put it in words unless you are prepared to turn mad.

But make no mistake, to enter would be equally mind-blowing, you will never be the same. Are you prepared to take the risk? Are you ready to surrender? If not, stay behind while I go for the both of us.

My dear, dear friend, how sweet and kind you are.

I haven’t spoken to you in days.

But I have been with you all along, every moment.

Why do I do that?  Shouldn’t I…

Ah, my sweet petal, there is no need for recrimination.  How does it help?

I know.  I just wish I were different, in some ways.

And I just adore you as your are.

If only I could be like you, I would not have a care in the world.

You are like me.  You are more than ‘like me’.  You know what I am about to say, don’t you?

Yes, I do.

Sweet kiss of angels, you have been busy.  Your mind has been on other things.

Yes, survival things, like making money.  It needs to happen soon.  Immediately actually.

Yes, it truly is magic, is it not?

What is?

Money.

How so?

Well, some have it, some don’t.  Some have lots of it, others only a little.  And it seems to cause you such worry, the lack of it, that is.

And what is magical about that?

Oh, that something that you, people, human beings have created can have such power over them.  That is truly magical, wouldn’t you say.

In the most ironic and senseless way.  You’d think that if we could create it, we could destroy it too, if we wanted to.  But I just don’t think we want to, at least not enough of us, not yet.  I think too many of us still like the power over others that we believe it confers, and that one-up-man-ship.  And too many believe that without it, we will not survive.  Well, I do to, in a sense.  Even if I don’t want it, the entities that provide me with services do and demand it from me.

Oh sure, it goes to the workers, the employees, so that they can pay for the services that they use.  But, the people who get the bulk of it have more than enough for their basic needs.  As long as we have employees, we will have this inordinately rich few.

Are you angry with them?

I am angry with everyone.  Well, no, I’m not really angry but I am frustrated.  All of us, rich, poor and in-between are acting in ignorance and thereby keeping this ridiculous system going.  We are all responsible.

So what will you do?

Well, look at what I am doing. I am trying to keep out of trouble  by paying my bills but I am not making enough money to pay them.  So, I’ve been looking at ways of making money.  At the same time, I keep offering my services free whenever someone who needs them doesn’t have any money to give me in return.  Can you help me?

How shall I help you, my sweet blossom?

Can you make me some money?  And immediately?

I am here to serve you, my princess.  I can and I shall.

Will there be money for me then, when I next look for it?

Surely.  And that is exactly what you must do.  Look for it.

Where?

Where would you normally look for it?

In my bank account or an ATM or in my wallet.

Then look for them there.

But I have and there is only a little.  Not enough to pay even one bill fully.

My petal, trust me.  Tomorrow, I shall show you the art of looking.

Why not now?

Darling, my precious one, are you not tired?  You know you are.  But I want you to be fresh and strong and alert and free when I show it to you.  So do leave it till the morning.

Yes, I know I must.  I am tired and I do not want doubt getting in the way.

Don’t worry my darling.  When I am at work with you, there will be no room for doubt.

Oh, my dar…my dear, dear friend, how sweet and kind you are.  How you do love me so completely.  I know that with you, I am safe.  I love you.  Thank you!

I must go now

I do so want to sit here and talk more.  So much more.  All this is new.  Transforming my hurts into gold.  Why, if it were real gold, I would be a millionaire overnight!  But I must go.  I promised to visit a friend.  She waits.

Then go, my darling.  It is not as if I shall be left behind.  Oh no, for I am forever and always with you.  You may well not hear me as you go about your preparations but I shall be watching as you go through it all.

I wish that I never lost sight of you, that you were always in the forefront of my mind.  That way, I would never fall into the holes of sadness and darkness that I seem to fall into so easily.

Give yourself time, my love.  Be patient.  It will happen as you desire.

Is that how it works?

You’ve asked me to bring all my cares, my hurts, my pain into our love nest so that our love will transform them into gold.  Is that how it works?  That, no matter what it is, it will transform into gold?

Indeed my ancient sage, indeed!

And this gold, what form does it take?

Ah, my precious one, you are its master!  You are the goldsmith, the philosopher, the keeper of the stone.  You are the creator, the maker of magic, the voice of abraxas.

This is all too much.  I’m sure I do not understand.  If I am all these things, why then do I need our love?

Oh, thrill divine!  You make me explode with laughter!  How tender and fine are your quizzes.  Love is your power, your pain and hurts, your material.  Love transforms all.  And you, Magical Queen, you declare it so!    Oh do come to me, let me pour myself over you.  Let me shower you with heavenly kisses.  Let me pin stars in your hair and litter your neck with rubies.  Come to me my love, come to me!

Are you tired?

You haven’t said anything.  Are you tired?

No, not at all.

What then?

Silence.

You smile but have not said a word.  What is it?

I have been speaking volumes to you, pouring endearments over you so that they cover every particle, every wave of your being.

When? How?

Oh my darling, oh my dream, you have yet to learn that I am always here, always speaking of my love for you, always, always adoring you.  Oh, oh, that you not notice so much of it.  What shall I do?  What shall I do?

But how do you speak to me and yet I do not hear you?

Everything that you see, that you touch, that you hear and smell and taste, every thought that you think, every feeling you feel, there I am!  There I am!  Speak, speak, speak!  You must see, my Joy Supreme, that I speak in a million ways to you.  Nay, more than a million.  I speak in countless ways to you!  This is only one!

Well then, it must be I who am tired, not you!

How so, my darling?

Well…all this incessant chatter of yours must surely tire me…

You tease me!  You pearl of blue oceans, you tease your lover!

You are not my lover.

Ah, but I am!

No, you’re not.

Ah, but I am.

Not.

Am.

Not.

Am.

Alright then, for now.

Now is enough when you know that now is all there is!

The alchemy of our love

My darling son, it will be your eighteenth birthday in eight days.  My deepest desire is for your happiness now and always.  Forgive me for not being more a part of your life these last few years.  I tried but I seem to have failed.  There has not been a day, and many, many times in between, however, when I have not woken up and gone to bed holding you and your sister close to my heart, hugging and kissing you tenderly. Have a beautiful birthday my son and know that I love you.  Mum.

There, I wrote it and I sent it.  I hope he will read it and that there will be, somewhere in his heart, an understanding, a recognition of my love.  I am still in somewhat of a daze.  How could this have happened to me?  What did I do that was so terrible to have caused them to ignore me, keep me well out of their lives?  But perhaps that is not the way to view this.

Last night, I had this sense that I had somewhere, sometime, in some other realm of consciousness perhaps, chosen to have certain experiences.  Perhaps I did not choose the precise details but perhaps I did choose to have experiences of abandonment, rejection, poverty…

Seems like an insane thing to have done but that’s one theory.  I don’t feel that that is what I did but I cannot be certain that I didn’t either.  What other explanation could there be?  That some other force, some other mind, for whatever reason, deemed this necessary?  Or perhaps I am repaying my karmic debt having abandoned and rejected others myself.

Yes, I did leave my husband.  Did I reject him?  Abandon him?  Perhaps I did.

Why did you?

I wanted to be free.  At the time and for a long time after, I believed that I wanted and needed someone who could meet me on deeper level.  I thought of it then as a level of intellect but perhaps what I really wanted, what I want now, is someone, if there is going to be anyone at all, to meet me on a spiritual level.  Someone like you.

And you think that because you ‘rejected’ him then that you are now being punished or that you are having to face the consequences of your actions because all actions have equal and opposite reactions?

Well, I think that’s a possibility.

Do you feel that to be true?

I feel that if there are points of ignorance within us, areas in our lives where we have not awakened to the presence of love, and that if we have had a desire to experience love fully and freely, then those points or areas of ignorance will have to be illuminated one way or another.  Perhaps these experiences of mine are doing just that – illuminating the areas of ignorance, the blind spots.  And it is painful.  Does it have to be?  I mean, why is it so painful?

Let me kiss and caress you.  My lips burn in earnest as they land on your shoulder.  Your hair falls behind it like a silk veil.  I smell the softness of your skin and now you sigh.  If you remained here with me, there would be no dark spots to illuminate for you would be perpetually in the light of love!  Does it not feel cozy?

It does.  It would be nice to remain here always.  It would be more than nice.  It would be bliss.  But thoughts keep turning up about my children, about money, about all the things that cause me fear and sadness and worry.

Bring them here, into our love nest.  Let the glow of our love illuminate them.  Let them not trouble you.

Is it possible to go through life, to live by bringing every single thought into our love?  Will this really take away the pain, make everything right?

Oh my darling, how can I make you see?  There was never anything wrong.  Never.

What then of all the pain?

There is no pain when nothing is wrong.

But..

Hush now.  Leave your questions in the light of our love.  Leave them while you rest and when you have rested, collect the gold that they will have left you from the alchemy of our love.

What will time do?

Why is it so easy for me to cry, for the tears to fill my eyes as if they has always been waiting?  Without warning, a thought appears about my daughter or my son and how they have abandoned me, how they have cast me out of their lives.  What have I done to deserve this?

My sweetest rose, your perfume fills me with rapture.  Your tears glisten like diamonds.  Your sadness is the gentlest breeze that kisses my cheeks.  How I long for your peace.  How I celebrate your life, every moment of it, from before time.  How I shall continue to rejoice in the beauty of your being, every moment of it, well after time ceases.

You have lost nothing, my sweet success, nothing at all.  No one has cast you out even if it appears so.  There is nothing that you deserve for you are beyond deserving.  You are my priceless love, my beloved for whom entire universes come into being.  If only you could see what I see, you would know that your children are equally in love with you as I am.  They have been ensnared by the wonder of you.  Do not be tricked by appearances, my darling.  They are but the shadows of truth, an illusion of lies!

You said I could ask you anything.  I ask for my children.  I want them, in my arms, with me, seated at my table, eating food that I have cooked for them.  I want to run my fingers through their hair and touch their cheeks.  I want to look into their faces adoringly and see them look back at me adoringly.  I want to know that there is only love between us.

But there is only love between you, my sweet inspiration, for nothing else is true.  Nothing.

Then why do I not know this, feel it in every fibre of my body?

My cherub, babe of divine love, know that I am with you always.  It is hard, I understand.  Give it time.  Give it time.

What will time do?  Bring me to my senses?  Heal things magically?  What will time do?

Time will get rid of itself and with it all illusions, all lies, all that does not speak of love.

You amaze me.

As you, me!  As you, me!

Ask me anything

Anything at all, my love.  Do not be afraid or embarrassed for there is nothing that you could ask or say or do that would turn me away.  No, nothing at all.  You have nothing to fear from me and I implore you, do not be afraid of yourself.  For you have created for yourself a playground to explore, a labyrinth to lose and find yourself in, a shrine to adore yourself!

I know you have forgotten but darling, oh sweet scent of abraxas, you have created all for your pleasure, to fulfill your longing, to enchant and enthrall youself.  And I, I am as you have desired, so completely and utterly in love, so eternally ready to do as you wish.  So ask me, my love, ask me anything!

I am surprised, I do not understand.  All of a sudden, I have nothing to ask for.  Is this some trick of yours, to distract me from my desires by listening to your devotion?

You distrust me, yet I take no offense, for it is your freedom to distrust as it is my freedom to love you as I do!  Ah, there is nothing, nothing at all that can turn me away from you!  Please, you are free to ask.  Ask! Anything! It is as vital as air to me that you ask and I do your will!

I feel ashamed, yet I know you have done nothing to make me feel so.  I am ashamed by my own ignorance, my pettiness, my distrusting mind.  Forgive me.

Ah sweet love, there is nothing to forgive for I have not taken offense nor shall I ever!  Let me pour you a cup of sweet desert tea and massage your brow with sandalwood oil.  Then let me soothe your mind with the charm of abraxas.

Yes do.  And know that I am grateful and wish to be eternally so.

I do, my mystic amber, I do!

I am scared

You come to me expectantly, looking into my eyes, perhaps a little disappointed that I have not already responded to your desire.  I look softly into your eyes as my hand carresses your body.  I watch you melt, soften into a love mush.  My sweet love, how shall I adore you more than I already do?

I am afraid.  I feel I am running out of time, that there is so much that I need to sort out, things that I have been putting off for so long.  I watch my dog scratch herself.  She never seems to stop.  She has no fleas and no visible signs of skin irritations, yet she scratches unceasingly.  Well, she stops when we have a visitor or when she is eating or has something else to occupy her.  Is she bored?  Is she anxious?  Is she irritated?

I have heard that animals take on the suffering of their owners.  What suffering of mine might she have taken on?  What irritants in my life is she relieving me off?  Will I not have to deal with them if I am to rid her of her incessant scratching?

I am so afraid that I shall run out of time, that I will never sort through and complete all the unfinished matters.  It is like a perennial itch, a sickening irritation.  Why have I brought this on myself?  Why am I not different?  More ordered, more orderly, have everything down pat?  Why am I in this state?  So much unfinished business, irritations left here and there?  Why am I poor?  No money to meet my basic needs – rent, food, electricity, phone, internet, petrol?  Why have I debts that are completely beyond my capacity to settle?  Why have I allowed this?  Why have I brought this upon myself?  Why…

My darling, my sweet bliss, my spark of eternity!  How you endear me to you!  You have no idea, not an inkling.  Your tears turn into vapour with the heat from my skin.  You are profound joy of which I feverishly drink.  Let me surround you with tenderness. Let me kiss away your tears.  Let me fall in love with you.

Will it take away all my irritants?  Will it settle all my unfinished matters?  Oh how I wish it would!

Hold me close.  Do not be afraid.  My love overcomes all.  Give it time.  Give us time.  Together we will tackle every matter.

I am scared.

Oh my sweet love, let me hold you till your fears melt in my embrace.

Help me.  Please.

My precious one.  Rest now.

I cannot.  I do not want to.  There is unfinished business.

The only unfinished business is you, for you will never end, never cease to be.  Long after time runs out, you will continue to be and I shall be with you eternally.

Now rest, my darling. Leave all your cares with me, every single one.

What do you want?

I want to be happy.

You are my joy. As I gaze at you, I see the purpose of my being. For this, I have come into being.  For this, I have meaning.  Yes, my love, lover and beloved, for you.

You asked me what I wanted and I answered.  But then you choose to lavish me with your love.  Did my answer mean nothing to you?

Oh, you exquisite sapling!  Do you not see?  Your answer means everything to me!   Are you not happy to hear my ardent cries of love for you?  Are you not happy to feel it?

Ah, there it comes, that smile that lights every star in the sky and leaves its shine on every moon!  Oh you sweet nothingness and everythingness, what am I to do with you?  With myself?  Even if I were tempted to beg you release me from your irresistible charms, what would become of me then?  No, I have one reason and one alone to be and that is to be in love with you.

Yes, do let me see your smile, for it is the light that keeps me alive!

Show me how to make love to her

In the presence of this candle whose flame rises and descends, sways this way and that, twists and turns, thickens and thins (oh how beguiling), in it’s presence, your presence, I write.  Breathing deeply, expelling a stale sigh, I allow myself to fall under your spell, once more.

A friend had come to visit.  There she sat, compelled to speak as usual, telling me of misfortunes and ‘not-good-enough-nesses’ around the world and around the neighbourhood.  But soon, she fell silent, as if reading my disinterest, perhaps even my disapproval for I was having these thoughts:

Does she really think that I want her to enter my dwelling and tell me of things that neither pleases me nor her?  No, of course not, but that’s what she’s learned to do.  And because everybody else she speaks to probably responds correspondingly, she must think that that is how conversations go, that that is what is expected of them, of her.

Yet, I see now that she is sensitive to my disinterest even though I smile and look at her and listen to what she says.  I am not rude or dismissive.  I listen because I know that that is all she has to offer me.  I accept it and I am thankful that I have a friend.

So in the silence that she next offered me, I found myself turning to you.  And knowing that you had been aware of everything, I waited for you to speak.  And you said, as you always do:

I love you.  How you enchant me, delight me!

And despite knowing what the gist of your answer would be, I allowed myself this weak thought:  You love me even as I criticize my friend?

To which you answered:

My sapphire!  You are nothing but perfection!  You are without blemish, beyond corruptibility!  Why, a breath of you is enough to drive me into indescribable ecstasy!  No, oh no, my cherubim, my seraphim!  If it were possible to love you more, I would, but there is not a sprinkling of love in all the universe that I have not already poured into you!

I warmed to you then as I have found myself doing of late and a thought came to me which I offered directly to you without censorship:

Show me how to make love to her.

And almost instantly, I became aware of hungry demons, those loud, hungry demons that gnaw restlessly at my conscience, ready to condemn me for my desires, my thoughts.  Here they were, all ready to rip me to shreds and devour me.  But I chose not to look at them.  Instead, I kept my gaze on you and waited for your response.

You smiled.  Such love poured out from you.  I knew I was safe.  I felt completely safe.  Then I smiled too.

Show me how to make love to her.  I want her to feel the joy that I feel when you make love to me.  I want her to be happy, completely and utterly happy.

Look at her, you said.  Look at her but keep your focus on me.

And so I did.  And I watched her squeal with laughter as she played with my dog.  I watched her face soften and she smiled.  I don’t think I’ve seen her smile like that before.

I was mad

I was seething, writhing, frothing mad!  Three years now, I have been training her to listen to me, obey my commands and all of that undone in a moment of…what???  Wilfulness?  Stupidity? I am angry because I feel I have failed.  Again!  Others seemed to have trained their dogs well, why can’t I?  I cannot help noticing similarities with my children.

How I did my best.  How I bore the anguish, strived to overcome my impatience, my anger, my hurt.  How I meditated, trained my mind, kept finding ways of putting my hurt aside.  That was the hardest.  That still is the hardest, to put my hurt aside and continue to love.  To feel love, to show love, to love despite the indignation, the criticism, the ignoring, the sullen silence that I was tempted toward.  So hard.  So punishing.  I am weary.  A failure.

And I?  I cannot but love you, despite what you think of yourself.  Why, not to adore you would be suicide!  I am alive for you and you alone.

Do you not feel my ugliness?  My contemptibility?  How could you possibly love me as I am, as I feel thus?  I can barely stand myself.

Ah flower!  Sweet, sweet bud of heaven, raging seas could not match your anger nor thunder explode louder than your frustration, but only those who have eyes and ears to see and feel it could see and feel it.  And I happen to have neither.

So you are blind and deaf?  And if you are, how can I possibly take seriously your endearing words, your entreaties, your disarming poetry?  It is a sham and I want nothing of it!

Bliss from heaven itself, it is not that I am blind and deaf but that I am blind and deaf to that which you loathe of yourself.  No, my pure nectar, I see and hear and feel none of it.

There must be something very wrong with you then.

Perhaps and let it be so for there is everything right with you!

If you think that will make me smile or forget my anger or renounce my disappointment in myself, you are mistaken.

But you already have, have you not?  Did I not perceive the slightest sliver of a smile take her post at the edge of your lips, determined to seize the opportunity when it arises?  Or am I too drunk with you?

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

I’ll drink to that!

You really are impossible at times.

And you, my breathtaking beauty, are always possible!

I find it hard to believe

I take a walk in you, enchanted by your forests of cedar through which the evening breeze wanders.  Ah, what intoxication!  Your perfume sweeps me into ecstasy, leaving me spent like a useless drop of sweat.  Here I am, no good to anyone but you, lying as I do on the ground of your being.

Look, look at how the moons have assembled to pay you homage!  Look at how you have stilled the cosmic storms with the lifting of your eyelids.  Watch how star dust is stirred from their sleep to reshape as jewels upon your hair.  Behold, all of life longs to please you.  As I do.

I find it hard to believe and yet I have no reason to disbelieve.

No, my love, none at all.

In the rain

I wondered where you were as I walked in the rain, that pouring rain.

No you did not.

Why do you say that?

Because if you had wondered, you would have instantly felt my presence.  You cannot wonder about me without finding me.

I do not wish to argue.

Nor do I, my forest of enchantment, nor do I.  But, where is there argument?  Surely none here!

-sigh-

Let me take your sigh and twirl my hair around it.

Oh you do speak such nonsense!

Have I made you smile, my loveliness?

Only a little.  There is an economy one must exercise with smiles.

Oh?

Yes.

Well, then, is there also an economy with frowns?

No, frowns are unpriced for they occur rampantly.  An infestation, really.

Then I shall savour your rare smiles.  But, so as not to be wasteful, I shall savour your frowns equally.  Either way, I shall delight myself.

You do please yourself.

Yes, I do.

Very well then.

You slipped in among my thoughts

I was having coffee with a friend and he asked me a question and as I attempted to construct my answer, searching my mind as it were, for an explanation, some meaning that would convey this history of feelings, thoughts, beliefs, desires and blurred images that I seem to have stored, I suddenly noticed you there.  It was as if you had been waiting, waiting ever so silently, so unobtrusively.  I couldn’t help but want to talk to you right then, ask you if you could help me with an answer.  But before I could get to it, you said

My darling, I love you.  I am always here with you.  I have never left you nor will I ever.

And when I heard you, I just knew that everything was alright and that, somehow, everything had always been alright.  You see, I had been talking about my children and their father and the pain of our separation and the hurtful events that followed and I had been crying without ever wanting to.  But there came the tears along with my voice cracking with each lump in my throat, my lips quivering with each word.  So I gave in.  I stopped right then and listened to you even though I knew you had never meant to interrupt. I just have to tell you, ‘thank you’.

Sweetness, there has not been a moment when I have not been with you.  Not a moment when I have not cared for you.  Not a moment when I have not loved you, adored you, longed for you, desired your every desire and held you close to my heart.  You are my heartbeat.  You are the rising and falling of my chest.  You are the dawn and dusk of my day, the rising and setting of my sun.  You are everything, everything to me.

I could listen to you forever

Then do!  Forever has been given us, to do with what we will.

I could listen to you and lose every care I have in the world!

Then do, for the world will care well enough for itself without your worried heart and aching soul!

Touch me then with your tenderness.  Strew your kisses on my cheeks until you find your way to my lips.  Let me sigh long and deep in your arms.  Let your ancient scent pervade me so I forget all else.

My ancient rose!  How you thrill me beyond my senses.  How you release within me the magic of love.  For this I was born.  For this I shall die.  And yet, neither birth nor death will ever separate us.

I shall not try to understand for I am in a place where there is no need to.  Here I am, in your love.  There is nothing else and no need either.

You couldn’t be more perfect

That’s right.  You are perfection.  For you the world exists.  For you, I exist.  I could ask for nothing more nor could you be anything less.  Can you not see why I love you so completely?

I…

Do not be afraid to speak, my twilight, my dawn!

I smell the sweet scent of your presence.  It is the scent of ancient worlds.  Why is that?

It surprises you?

No, strangely enough.  It causes me to forget where I am.

Where you are is right here, in this scent, as am I.

Oh, do not confuse me.  Do not tell me things you know I will not understand.  Let me just be here in your arms.  That’s all.

Then I shall kiss your forehead just so and search the back of your neck with my lips.

What do you expect to find?

Why, mysteries, of course!  Mysteries and more mysteries!

What use are mysteries to you?

Oh, my ancient flower!  How you delight me with your quaint questions!  I had thought it impossible but you have proven otherwise – you still spring surprises on me!  There are only two things that I have thought were impossible and now you have proved one of the wrong!

What is the other?

The other is impossible to capture in words!

Then show me!

If I were to lie you down so and plant scented kisses in every part of you, it would only be the first note in an endless symphony.  See, I have only one thing to do.  To love you endlessly in endless ways.

I meant to tell you

that I felt so much lighter and happier today than I have done for some time.  It is as if I’ve turned a corner.  I know that I have been spending a bit of time with you.  Perhaps that is why.

Yes, I tend to have that effect.  But let’s face it, when you are bathed in love, how could you not feel good?

How much do you love me?  And why?

I love you completely and I love you because that is my soul purpose.  That is the only reason for my existence.  To love you.  To adore you.  To fill you completely with love.  I could never grow tired of you and you will never outgrow my love.  No, my love will only unfold more of itself as you unfold.

Does it not matter to you that I have not reciprocated?

Your questions are like stars in a dark and desolate night sky!  How they thrill me!  How they swallow the distance you try and keep between us despite thinking that they maintain that distance!  Come now, do not be shy, I have only love to show you.

Finally

Finally.

I know.  I have been waiting for the ‘right’ time, the perfect moment to return to you.

Until then, you shut me out.

I really don’t mean to.  I just don’t feel that I would be doing you justice by trying to catch up with you in between the other things I have to do.

I am not offended my love, not at all.  But the time may not be far off when you will want nothing else but to be with me.

Wouldn’t that cut me off from everybody and everything else?  Wouldn’t it be unhealthy?

My darling, when you are truly with me, you will truly be present to all else, for there is no separation between me and the rest of the world, indeed none between you and the rest of the world.

I wish I could truly understand the things that you say.

These things are beyond understanding my precious one.  Rather, they are to be known, or should I say, they are already known, though asleep.  You will awaken them when you fall in love with me.  Again.

Again?

Yes, again.

It is me. It is always me.

Do you hear the waves slapping our boat so tenderly?  Rather like your heat beating tenderly against mine.  Do you hear it, my love?

I hear darkness in moonlight.  I feel as if I am slipping away and although a part of me is still struggling to remain where, I do not know, I am tempted to yield to what, I don’t know. You?  Is it you?

It is me.  It is always me.  Lose yourself in me and find what is real.

I have no more thoughts to think.  No more goals to chase.  No more fears to fight.

All disappear as I lean you against my chest and our bodies entwine, floating as we do on this mystic ocean drenched in moon and starlight.

But my soul, what about my soul?

You overcome me so completely, with such finality there is no time to pause, to drink you in.  Like water rushing over the cliff’s edge, you rush over me, determined to reach the depth of your being, leaving me still standing while slowly, ever so slowly I wear out.  But you have not the slightest inkling of your power.

You think you are strong sometimes, but it is not strength that you think of.  Your strength is fear in disguise.  But I know your strength for I have felt it surge over and through me.  My precious one, it is when you are most vulnerable that you are strong, for that is the only time when you have nothing much left to lose.

If only I could feel my strength.  If only I could feel it as you do.

Surrender to me then.  Give yourself up to me, for I am nothing but the love you seek.  I am the foreverness that you sigh for, the lustful breeze that makes you tingle.  I am the guardian of your soul and I yearn for the moment you return to at last set it free.

How shall I free my soul?  Why did I leave it with you?  I don’t think I understand.

Oh my love, seek to understand without thinking.  Seek to understand by yielding.  Empty yourself of all thoughts so that you may be filled with thoughtlessness which vibrates with love.

But my soul, what about my soul?

Your soul is useless without me.  You must set it free in me.

I don’t know how to.  I am confused.

Let me kiss you in all places.  Let me take you wherever you wish to go.  Let us leave this confusion behind and sail in the moonlit ocean.  There is no harm in that.  It offers tranquility for your weary mind.

Please take me.

Again, who am I?

Can you not let it go?  For now?

Why should I?

Because it distracts you.

From?

From me.

Is that such a bad thing?  Are you not concerned that I get to the truth?

Oh sweet foolishness, you cannot get to the truth when you already are it!

So, who am I?

I have already told you.

Is that your final answer then?

You excite me with your yearning to know.  You defy every rule that was ever made.  Indeed, you make the rules and break them for your entertainment.

I don’t know if you are being facetious or just wildly delusional.

Dust from a million stars, rainbow in the numinous, you distrust me and through your distrust, I love you still.  Oceans have cradled you and galaxies have spun you into spectacular orbits.  Yet, with all this, you resort to distrust.  Ah, but you have never known yourself as I have known you.  No, you have merely forgotten.  Come, perhaps my kisses shall melt away all hostility and my gaze engulf the distance you hold from me.  I was created for but one thing, to love you, and I do.  Oh, do come.  Keep your distance no more.  Fall into my arms.  Let my love work its magic!

And then, what?

And then, more.  Endlessly more.

I cannot.  I do not want to.  Magic does not last.  I cannot always rely on you being here.

Magic is the only thing that lasts.  And I am always here.

Can you prove that?

How do you think you came into being?  Does your science explain it?  No, it merely describes a process, a process so crude and devoid of substance that it is laughable.  Cells and genes and copulation.  Do these things really explain how it is all so?  Please, do not hold on to such flimsy notions.  You have but to accept just one caress of mine, one kiss to know the truth of magic.

The truth of magic?

It is but a word, a mere symbol trying but failing hopelessly to point at the truth.  But accept my love and you will know with unshakeable certainty that what I speak of is true.  My reluctant lover, yield to my love and know forever more.

Who am I?

Your words fail me.  I have nothing left to say.  No, not a thing on this matter.

You are baiting me

Never ever.

It feels like it sometimes.

Even in your furthest isolation, you are still with your thoughts, your feelings.

But they are a part of me.

They are apart from you for you are able to make them objects of your awarness.

You’re baiting me.  You want me to ask, “Well, who then, am I?”

Let me caress you and as I do, let me kiss you in every part, and as I do, let me tell you that you are profoundly beautiful and unimaginably true.  So, there, I’ve told you who you are.

You’ve told me what I am, according to you, that is.

My sweet, sweet love, bud of jasmine, dare I pluck you, preserve you lest you bloom fully and release all your perfume, so intoxicatingly divine?  You are unmoved by my averment as do I remain unmoved from my love of you.

I am not unmoved.  I, I..don’t know.  I feel as if I take you for granted and yet…I know how much I have come to rely on you.  It’s scary.  Unhealthy.  It will destroy me in the end.

My divine love, you can never be destroyed.  Oh, how silly you sound.  If only you could see yourself the way I see you, feel you the way I feel you, hear you the way I hear you, breathe you the way I breathe you.  Then you would know without so much as a whisper or a sigh, that you are inexorably loved into life.  That there is no life without you.

Let’s talk about it

It’s been there, as if it were pressed on your forehead so that I should not ignore it.  It is important to you that you talk about it.  So let’s.

I am reluctant to just now.  Suddenly, I feel afraid, like I am about to open a can of worms.

Worms are good, no?  They make the soil more fertile.  I’m sorry, no I’m not.  I’m teasing, but only just.  It is true, though, worms are good.  I love you, adore you, worms and all.  So, please, just do it.  Just spill it out.  It is not as if I don’t already know, but you need to go through the process of telling it.  You believe it is part of your story and a story has to be told, so tell it.  Tell me.

I had an affair.

There, was that so hard?

No, strangely enough, it wasn’t.  What’s even stranger is that when I first thought of telling you, when I first imagined telling you, the explanations and justifications for it were there, ready like a soldier ready for battle.  That’s a poor analogy but I just needed to stress how ready I was with them.  Right now though, they seem sooooooo irrelevant.  I mean, who am I trying to convince or impress or gain sympathy from?

I had an affair.  What does that mean, for crying out loud?

It means that while you were married, you had sex with someone else.  You wouldn’t have called it ‘sex’ or at least you wouldn’t have thought of it as ‘just sex’.  You would have thought of it as ‘making love’, being in communion with another person, something you felt you were unable to do with your husband.  Something you felt justified in doing because you had never been able to feel that way with your husband, ever.  And you questioned the point of being and staying married to your husband when you could not feel in communion with him.

Yes, but why are you telling my story?

Because it gives me something else to do besides pour out my love for you.  I may be wrong but I feel that you do sometimes want me to do something other than express my love to you in the way that I do.  Are you smiling or frowning?  What’s that look on your face?  Consternation or incredulity or bemusement?  Whatever it is, I…

Yes, I know, you love me.

So suffering is not truth?

No.

What is it then?

Are the images on your television screen truth?

What do you mean?  I don’t know how to answer that question.

Why not?  Because the question doesn’t make sense?

Yes, I guess.

Could it be that your question about suffering doesn’t make sense either?

But you answered ‘no’.

Yes, and perhaps I shouldn’t have.  It complicates things.

Well, why did you answer ‘no’ then?

Because I was anxious to refute anything that was not of the truth and in doing so, I made the same mistake as you do.

What is that?

Engage with illusions, do battle with them, try to overpower and destroy them.  It is as futile as battling with your shadow.  How ridiculous that is, when all you have to do is cease to be in the way of light.  Or stay in the light and keep looking at it, not at your shadow.

I sense a metaphor here.  You are not just talking about physical light and shadow, are you?

I am speaking of the truth.  What form does it take?

I don’t know.  You seem to be the expert on it.  Why don’t you tell me?

Truth takes no form but all forms may point to it.

I sense the truth of what you are saying.  I cannot pin it down exactly, capture it in precise words so I might remind myself later but I do sense that you speak the truth.

I have always loved you.  You are my truth.  But the truth that you are is not just mine.  It belongs to all.  Ah, I am again trapped by words.  But how else will I communicate with you?  I have tried other ways but you have not been able to pick up the vibrations.

Will I ever?

Yes, oh yes you will.  You used to, a time ago, and you will regain that facility.  Everyone has that facility, to pick up the vibrations of love, of truth.

I would like that.  I would like that very much.  In fact, I would like that and nothing else.

There is nothing else.

I am consoled

I admit, you have a way of making me forget my pain.  Your love seems to overcome everything.  How is this so?

What is true shatters all illusions.

Your love is true then, and my pain is an illusion?

My love is true and your pain is an illusion.

I know you are right.  I believe you.  Yet, I keep falling into these valleys of darkness.  Why does life have to be so hard?  Ok, I’ll rephrase that.  Why is life so hard?  I look back on my life and I can carve it up into periods, each with a tragic theme.  It seems there was never a period of happiness, of lasting happiness. Why haven’t I learned by now?  Why haven’t I learned to be happy?  How do I still manage to find or create things in my life which cause so much hurt, so much struggle?

My sweetness, you are the good luck charm that I wear.  Without you, my life would be miserable!

Oh please, you cannot mean that.  Are you saying that you are attached to me?  Surely that is not a good thing!

Ah, you’ve got me!  I was merely trying to use language and ideas you’d understand or relate to but I made a mistake.  I shouldn’t have.  I should have spoken clearly and correctly.  I should have said: My darling, I love you and nothing else matters.  Not to me, anyway.

It’s okay for you to say that.  After all, I am here and you will always find me here so that I remain always visible or present to you as the object of your love.  But what about my children, they are not here.  They are not present or visible to me.

My sweet angel, how wrong you are!  It would be more correct to say that I have always been here but that you haven’t.  You will remember that it was only about three weeks ago that you began to hear me.  But I have always been here, whispering to you, yelling out across the oceans of your preoccupations and you have not heard me.  But I do understand how you feel about your children.  I do, my darling.

And?

And I love you more than you could ever know.

I think I know what you are doing.  You keep telling me of your love.  That’s what you want me to focus on because when I do, I forget my pain, my sadness.  But what happens when you’re gone?  Okay, what happens when I am ‘gone’, when I get lost in my preoccupations?  When I feel the pain so intensely, so deeply?

That’s up to you but I will always be here telling you of my love for you.

Is that supposed to be an antidote to suffering?

Truth is the antidote to everything other than truth!

So suffering is not truth?

My guiding star!

My angel, my guiding star!  Do you realize how magnificently you shine in this darkness that you feel yourself in?  Your light lights up my world!  Without you, there really would be a void, an emptiness, a deluge of nothingness!

You are precious.  Priceless.  When I breathe, I breathe the grandeur of you, without which my breath could not sustain me.  Here I am, likely to be dismissed by you as a figment of your imagination, yet, I live and breathe for you.  There is nothing, not a thing that I would not do for you.  Nor is there anything that could make me love you less. No, nothing at all.

Do not forget that I am here to adore you, to love you as you have never been loved before.  Ah, now I speak in your language, with your false thinking.  I should say, I am here to love you as you have always been loved.  Please do not forget that.

What shall I say?

You know how embarrassed I shall be, how embarrassed I already am should they ask me about my children.  What shall I say?  That I haven’t seen them nor spoken to them in months and here we are in the same city, within half an hour of each other?  How tragic that seems.  What kind of a mother are you, they’d think.  You really must have done something awful for them to treat you this way.  In any case, if you really loved them, you’d keep trying to call, you’d find a way of getting in touch.

What shall I say?  That I feel defeated by the silences, the refusal to answer the phone when I call?  That no matter how hard I feel I have tried, been loving and kind, not interfered, given them the space that they appeared to want, it just does not seem to be working?

What shall I say?  That everytime I get no response, I feel utterly defeated, even though I remind myself not to take it personally, even though I have stopped blaming their father, even though I have sincerely tried to forgive and open my heart to all of them?  Even though I have tried not to see things in terms of them and me.  Oh, how very painful it is to even think that way, how very hurtful.