I have equated spiritual practice with squelching my desires, denying them, suppressing them. I could sit in a clean room by myself and meditate for hours, but I wouldn’t dance with what Mykonos called “the lady”. I was afraid of life. I was afraid of death. I was afraid even to drink a beer and lose my purity. I want refuge, not chaos. I want peace, not passion. I was trapped in my little room of sanctity, in my meditative stillness and solitude. This wasn’t true freedom. Nor was it love. As Mykonos pointed out, I wasn’t penetrating the world with my love and opening “her” into bliss. Rather, I was pulling back. I was obsessed with myself.
“Yes”, Mykonos continued. “Can you see everyone, meet everyone, feel everyone, as if you were singing happy birthday to them?”
I’m also married to my wife, but that’s a whole another thing. In truth, my wife and I are each married to Great One. We don’t expect our personal relationship with each other to make us happy - we don’t expect anything to make us happy. You are either open - which is happiness itself - or your closing down and suffering.
The pain in your heart? Feel it. Love is a wound, my friend, a wound that never heals.
Look at your friends here. They’re so beautiful, so full of flight. But imahine that you could see through their skin. Hmmm? What would you see? Blood, pus, and excrement. Bile, mucous, and urine.
It’s just a piece of meat, that cock or pussy you want so much.
And if you could see it even more, down to the molecules in atoms, you would see mostly space you know?
Nothing here is worth clinging to – it’s all just rotting meat, dancing electrons, and empty space - yet that is all most people do, cling to the withering flesh they have, and wait for something better to save them from the emptiness they dread.
“Everyone occupies their time while they wait for THE big fuck, the thing they hope will finally make them happy, and all the while they’re clamping down their pus-sack bodies, enjoying a few minutes of pleasurable dribble in an otherwise utterly boring day, holding back their hearts while they wait for a mommy or daddy who could save them and make them feel loved, denying God’s fuck with the dumb, relentless churn of their doubting mind, resisting the Great One’s love, the ever present Big Bang of God’s love exploding as everything they see and don’t see, missing God appearing now while absorbing their terror in work and kids and whatever people do.