Every single thing means Life is getting on with the business of being Life
Posted by lune on October 31, 2009
Every single thing is sacred, every single thing an expression of Enduring-Love, every single thing appears in equal measure and means absolutely nothing at all. Every single thing is in its right and proper place, perfectly aligned in its akward misalignment. Every single thing has an equal weight, an equal fragility; Every single thing can be attributed to everything else.
Every single thing means Life is getting on with the business of being Life; the sink full of washing up, some pots – their lids undone – stacked up the way they are, dog hairs crisscrossing the rug waiting to be cleaned, a brief feeling of coming-to-an-end-ness surfacing now and then, the rose-tinted mountains in the evening light framing the window, the petticoat fog creeping along the valley edge, the impending death of the year knocking at the door.
Boundaries, meanings and concepts are all becoming blurred; the dog is a messenger from the gods, the bed a boat set adrift for a journey to the Otherworld, the amber necklace a net for catching moonlight in. Tonight is primitive, tonight every single thing is breaking down, dancing to gypsy music, the-jig-of-life, clapping – loud, loud! – whirling, merging, nothing in its proper place, nothing ever having any place! And every single thing is collapsing to the beat of a wild drum.
No single – separate – thing makes sense anymore without every other thing in existence dancing with it to give it meaning.
Every single move is sacred expression, like a blessing to and from the earth, every single move gives meaning to life, every single breath is life; every single footstep across the floor, every single smile, every single sigh. Every single thing changes position endlessly, becoming something else, not what it seems to be at all to the rational mind. Every single thing is right here and every single thing means anything and everything to Itself.
And every single thing is an expression of Enduring-Love, a love that appears for love’s sake alone; nothing more than an appreciation of the One-Self-That-Is. The One, appearing as millions-upon-billions of pieces interacting with each other in a monumental dance of life, that’s what Love is. Love is the one expression that can never be anything else, for no other reason than the reason arising right now.
And right now, there is an ‘I am’ arising within every single thing and an ‘I am’ arising in no thing at all; full of dancing, laughter and ice cream, ready to lay down on the whirling pillows, ready to close the eyes and hope for sleep.
And This is the only expression there can ever Be and it has been kept hidden for so long in secret, numbed against the pain of never being able to reveal Itself, never being able to mentioned Itself. A discreet cupboard love stunted by the fear of failure that has – at last! – had It’s doors broken down, It’s temple ransacked, It’s Wonder cracked open and allowed to spill out back into Everything, All-At-Once.
There is nowhere left to hide – the Wonder is here, now, dancing in the Light of Life, dancing before It’s own eyes, dancing to celebrate It’s own Death – dancing.
Maury Lee said
Quite beautiful. Wonderful expression. The creativity shines! Sounds like home to me.
lisa said
Love the amber necklace image.
“Every single thing is sacred, every single thing an expression of Enduring-Love,”
Oh how i long to believe this and feel it with that intensity–and how easily swayed a person can feel when it is applied to the beautiful, the positive, the mundane.
But when the young soldier dies wounded and bloody in the arms of his mother, when the jogger is ganged raped into unconsciousness in the park at night, when the deer looks into the eyes of the hunter as the bullet rips through his neck, when the house burns down and the family is trapped inside, when the government doesn’t pay any compensation to the family whose child died from the mandatory vaccine, when the mother who cannot feed her children watches her youngest with a bloated belly shit out worms—are these aspects of life also sacred and expressions of enduring love?
Please, explain to me in detail, i do not understand
.I ask you or Suzanne or someone who had adapted this mindset to explain using the very specific example of pedophelia, how this is sacred and an expression of enduring love.
julian said
As long as we have ideas in our mind about what life should look like it is not possible for reality to do anything but fall short. Some people seem to be able to live with all kinds of pain however and be happy. It is because life is not to them a story happening to ‘me’. There is simply now and now and now – the taste of life, sun seeping in through half closed eyelids, sweet breath of experience, and then not. We do not know what this life is, or why we are here, but we know that we have been given something, a gift, and that, even if that gift is suddenly removed, at least we shared in something – we were alive. It was so lovely strolling along the beach right up until the Tsunami hit, and then it wasn’t.
julian said
Paedophilia is a concept (a judgement) – you can’t capture what a person is with a word. Once you believe you know who the criminals and who the victims are you are really living an illusion. When I read about something happening, or even see something happening, can I know what has happened really…for who? The world is sacred because it is touch sensitive — sometimes the feel of it makes us shake with love, or exitement, sometimes with horror, because we had not allowed for the intensity of the experience. If we live through our ideas of good and bad much of the journey will appaul us. But the more our hands are kept open to receive whatever life has to give, the more even the harshest and extreme experiences will feel like blessing. And of course, unless we are God, how can we know anything about how life should be. We certainly wern’t taught it in school.
lune said
Pedophelia is horrific, no doubt about it, no other way to describe it.
I would be horrified to hear of this happening to my children, any child.
These are horrific acts and we need to eradicate them, if that is what we need to do.
I am not writing here that pedophilia is an act of enduring love. I am not writing that it is to be ignored, rejected, applauded, unless that is what arises.
This is not what is being pointed to here.
This is not about trying to be like a zen buddhist-monk who trains himself not to react to anything, who learns to see an act of joy and hatred in the same light, although many would say that is the perfect expression of life – I would say it is a pretty imperfect way to live.
No, this is about taking action, doing whatever it takes to get the desired result, this is about being roused to fight,
if fighting is what is needed, to hear what life is telling us and responding to it without hesitation,
taking 100% responsibility and reacting in ways that call us to live life the way it is meant to be lived.
This all takes place in the world of appearances; where hatred exists to counterbalance love, where violence exists to oppose peace.
Where we are a ‘we’ and we goddamn fight for what we believe in to the bitter end.
Do you think I would not fight for the lives of my children with every last breath in me?
That is what ‘we’ are ‘here’ for – to be totally involved in what is happening, right now,
in whatever form this now takes and there are infinitesimal forms appearing right now.
Why else would we be experiencing life as humans? There can be no other way.
But in the world where nothing exists (despite appearances) – to quote Suzanne ;) there is Love that has no opposition, no countermeasure and no definition,
it cannot really be called Love at all, that is just a label trying to name something which cannot be named along with all the other things we must name in order to analyze them.
This Love exists in Everything: a pedophile, an axe murderer, a pile of dirty dishes, a child screaming for attention – everything,
without preference for one thing over the other, because all of this is just a mesmerizing array of labels, acting out what a definition believes itself to act like.
Call it the Stuff of Existence, call it whatever the hell you like,
that naming can never touch what it is, it is untouchable.
And ‘we’ are blinded by the light of a million labels doing what labels do and we react as our label tells us to react.
We fight on, suffer, kill, maime, abuse, etc. in order to play the game. We might not want the experience,
we might need to have the experience, we might feel a thousand ways about the experience, but at its heart,
Life is doing what it does, in order to experience itself.
I call this movement Enduring Love, others may call it suffering, others may call it horrific-endless-meaningless-violence, it is all of those things and nothing, which ever way we care to look at it.
And that’s what everything IS, how it experiences itself and it cannot be anything but this very moment right here, right now, appearing however it needs to appear.
Of course it cannot really be looked at at all, cannot really be explained, cannot be felt, how do I know? I really don’t know, I really do not know.
It just is, that’s all.
lune said
http://www.jungcircle.com/muse/plato.htm
Björn Clausen said
Lune, what can I say to express my gratitude!? I am truly speachless. In awe of the mystery beyond words, that you, damn it, have managed to express in words.
lune said
big smile :)
Suzanne said
Hi Lune, beautiful piece. How was Halloween in the Alps?
lune said
foggy,
spooky,
full-moony,
snow-capped mountainy,
champagne-bubbly,
ghostly and ghoulish,
my daughter ate bags full of chocolates and sweets and then
decided to become a full time witch.
couldn’t be better really…
how was yours?
Suzanne said
Nine 13-year-old girls took over the house and we were admonished not to bother them. My son and a lone friend patrolled the neighbourhood and came back with a bucketful of sweets. Standing outside, there were orange jack o’lantern lights and a muted, excited, hubbub of children intoxicated by their out-after-dark freedom. Daughter was very pleased with her party; all social ties intact, and strengthened. She is well on her way to becoming the most special, different, separate person that ever walked the planet. Son felt a bit sick from too many sweets. He couldn’t watch The Omen not because it was too scary, but because it was too boring. I stayed up late and watched Halloween, marveling anew at the fabulous story construction and salient use of archetypes. That Michael Myers…hard to kill! The Boogeyman is beingness, too. Husband did not join me – he doesn’t do scary movies. I dressed as a clown again in the end, funky hippie clown (sort of); simply emptied the wardrobe of everything colourful and put it on all at once. Couldn’t be better really!