For when the heart is open and the mind is clear
they are of one substance, of one essence.”
Usually, though, the momentum of a Life of Practice usually just carries me along like an autumn leaf floating on the surface of a dancing brook under a clear blue sky. Life flows on. It's nightime, then it's morning. I awake. I get up, go pee, I Sit. The real "decision" was made a long time ago.
Gently Down the Stream
Sitting here, I feel a glowing warmth and appreciation; a sense of wonder and exhilaration. I feel a deep gratitude for having somehow stumbled and bumbled my way into my 72nd year on this planet, to have realized that this tender, achy-breaky, wounded little heart glowing in my chest is my direct connection to the One Heart of True Compassion. In fact, I've seen clearly they are not separated by anything substantial.
Life flows on. I flow on. These are "not two".
These days, even if those types of thoughts and feelings swirl me up with them into the vortex of a momentary whirlpool, I generally just meet them and greet them as old friends, the consequences of our shared human condition. I breath them into my heart and wish them well as they come -- and go. Underneath, the water is always pretty calm and pretty clear -- and is essentially no different than the open expanse of the blue sky reaching overhead.
At this stage of the journey, the Practice is doing me as much as I'm doing it.