Just My Nature



Perhaps it's just my nature,
But…

When at first I no longer felt “myself”,
When “I” and the world Vanished,
No object was discovered where “i” had been,
Not even a formless “object”; Brahman, or “Consciousness”.

I simply rested Here…
In the Ecstasy of Unlocatable Aliveness,
As formless Shiva, unmanifest, unmoving,
Where Heaven has not yet birthed Earth.

Existing thus… not simply in “peace” and “happiness”…
Nor that euphoric sense of vastness and spaciousness,
Born of profound intellectual clarity, knowledge, or understanding,
Proclaimed by so many to be the summit.

Ecstasy, Bliss, Anandam,
Embodied, across the Whole of Being,
Here… in the Locus of the Heart,
The Unalloyed Ecstasy of Formlessness in form.

Where formless Shiva first moves as Shakti, Where Heaven first moves as Earth, I did not continue on,
Thinking “about” what remained,
Giving name and form to the nameless and formless.

Perhaps it's just my nature.

I did not name it “Consciousness”,
Brahman, God, or “That”,
Or any name from this tradition or that.

I did not divide This into formlessness or form.
I did not wonder if it endured during deep sleep,
Or before or after the body's death.

“Knowing” such things was of no interest,
And wholly irrelevant.
For when “I” vanished,
All movement, all “grasping after” ceased.

Curiosity remained,
Full of Wonder, Awe, and Delight.
But no desire to “know”, to “understand”.

Such considerations gave rise
To unbridled laughter,
And sadness… for those so bound.

Whatever I knew or did not “know”,
Whatever I did or did not “do”
Did not bring about this Blossoming,
But were, rather, brought about by this Blossoming.

I remain baffled
By those compelled to keep thinking
“About”.

To what end, these cosmologies,
These descriptions of “reality”?
Why?

Perhaps it's just their nature.

What is This,
This… Unlocatable Aliveness?
I've no “idea”.

I've no “idea”.

I will not “lawyer” with you,
Arguing that if this is so, and that is so,
Then clearly this is so,
And you should be happy.

Such certitude, such assurance, born of “knowledge”,
Should you come to it,
Is not Happiness.
And may even keep you from Bliss.

I can only tell you of my Experience.
And will not speak of concept, theory, and conjecture.

This experience is of Unlocatable Aliveness,
Everything simply… appearing,
But the perceiver-experiencer to which it appears…
Vanished.

Not simply “Knowing” that “I” do not exist;
Not simply the vanishing of “I” from the mind.
But the vanishing of the “Feeling of ‘I’”
From the body, as well – across the Whole of Being.

For one can “Know” in the mind
That one does not exist as an object-perceiver-experiencer,
And yet continue to “feel”, in the body, that one does.

Liberation is of the Whole Being.

And the nature of that Experience of Being?
Ecstasy, Bliss, Ananda.

Not simply a psycho-emotional experience
Of peace and happiness, however profound.

Ecstasy, Bliss, Anandam.

Perhaps I simply have a strange
Psycho-physiological disorder.

But such a delightful disorder,
In which existence as Unlocatable Aliveness
Is the Heart's Desire… Fulfilled.

Fullness and Completion,
Ineffable Sublimity,
Shining like a sun in the Heart.

What is it?
Why is it?
How is it?

Was it there before birth?
Will it remain after death?
Is it there in deep sleep?

I'm too drunk, too full of Amrita,
Here in the arms of The Beloved,
To eat such sand.

Perhaps it's just my nature.