From
the inside out
Don’t
worry, be happy, said my Lord,
which
seems, at first, a mere pleasantry,
but,
o pilgrim, where does your happiness abide?
And
on what does your happiness depend?
If
it comes from the outside
(rather
than from the inside out),
if
it’s something you must
repeatedly
chase down;
if
it is, in fact, dependent on anything
apart
from your relationship with God,
you
are forever vulnerable
to
its capricious abandonment.
And
how to be happy (per Meher)
from
the inside out?
Surrender
fearlessly to the terrible
vagaries
of the original Whim.
O
child of God, surrender is when
happiness transcends
into sublimity.
My
box of sand
I
am laboring to unearth the great Mystery
in
a sandbox with my trowel and pail,
sculpting
explanatory castles
that
will not survive the first hard rain.
My
colleagues and I have our pointed discussions –
sort
of like Mel and Ella trading scat rifts.
What
matters (I have timidly surmised)
is
acceptance, devotion, faith and permission,
none
of which originates with the worshipper.
I
go easy on myself. I’m burdened in a
peculiar way.
I
survey this miraculous realm (of which
I
am also made) and what should inspire awe
doesn’t
– because I am an impenetrable dullard,
built
that way per God’s great Whim,
thus
my search for Truth never leaves
the
six-by-six confines of my box of sand.
O
child, you are an illusory fragment of the One God,
perfectly outfitted
with your human imperfections.
The
dream of self
Adventures,
calamities of all sorts
occur
in our dreams.
All
the while, we sleep snug in our beds,
well
beyond the drama, safe from all misfortunes.
In
this dream of life (per Meher)
we
experience an array of dangers,
sufferings
and heartaches,
while
our true Self (per Meher),
hovering
ever near, remains aloof
and
untouched, pristinely unaffected;
beyond
the reach
of
damage, alteration or death.
O
child of God, the Awakener has come
to rouse you from the
dream of self.
Unspeakably
blessed
Ask
for nothing, said my Lord,
and
receive everything.
These
words I enter
silently
upon the screen.
Read
them the same way.
No
requests come
from
a mouth sealed with gratitude,
a
throat crushed with awe.
We’ve
all been unspeakably blessed.
God
made us partial so we should
require
Him every moment
to
complete ourselves
and
share our pilgrimage
with
Him consciously.
Coming
to the end now
of
my particular adventure,
I
find myself short of everything
but
far from having nothing.
O
child, lament not your perpetual resistance.
God enters through
the joints of your armor.
(drawing by Rich Panico)
