Oneness

In quiet solitude, my spirit and I are one.  I marvel at the splendor and infinite connection of all that is – every person – every creature, plant, planet and star.  The divine Oneness.

Still, each night, sleep escapes me.  I find myself not recognizing the person I became within the strains of the day.  I question the raging, ceaseless conflict between my spirit and mind.  In the very midst of Oneness, I perceive only me. Within a world of beauty and brotherhood, suffering and need, my mind incessantly turns to the tininess of my own experience – squeezed by screaming clocks, hollow conversations and looming deadlines. 

Morning comes, and my spirit longs again for all that is meaningful, tranquil and pure – that universal whole of which I am only one tiny part. My gaze fixed upon the sunrise, I watch in veneration as a vulture soars effortlessly through the pinks, oranges and grays cast across the clouds. She dances on the currents, her expansive wings steering her in long, graceful turns. The sky is her stage, and I am her captivated audience. We are one in this celestial masterpiece. 

Suddenly, a horn blares; an elevator opens; a phone rings. Instinctively, I turn from my spirit, dissolve in the concrete, plastic and noise, and my shallow mind and I, once again, become one.  

The Long Betrothal

“Who are you,” I asked for many years. I longed for you, yet feared who you might turn out to be. I pictured you, but could not see your face. I yearned for your approval, but feared I could never please you. From such distance, I could not read your expression. What did you want from me? How could I know for sure who or what you hoped I would be? I imagined, over and over, who you must be and what might please you. The only thing of which I could be certain was, I could be certain of nothing at all. You were incomprehensible from your faraway place.

Many times, I sent you messages, only to wonder if you ever received them. I asked what you wanted from me, and that you tell me about yourself. I awaited replies, but none came. So many rumors from those who claimed to know you well. So much advice about the kind of woman you want me to be. So much reproach for all my inadequacies, and incessant, fearful descriptions of your discriminating taste, your high expectations and demanding nature. I concluded I could never be good enough for you, and grew to regret our betrothal.

Then, one quiet night, I stood atop a mountain in darkness, my eyes closed in silent contemplation, my mind emptied of all discouraging thought. It was then you left your throne and came to me. Feeling your gentle upward pull of my face, I opened my eyes to find your own gazing upon me – countless numbers staring down at me, shining more brightly than any light ever created by another. I saw nothing but love. Your beauty and majesty stole my breath and filled my heart with unspeakable joy. There you were in all your splendor – everywhere – omnipresent, omniscient and omnipotent.

Your majesty is boundless, as are your love and grace. I know, now, who you are. You are everything, and you are one with all you have made, and we are all one with each other…with you, forever. I, nor anyone, need ever doubt your love, because it is your goodness, not our own, that determines our destiny. You are perfect and infinitely beautiful.