Tossing the Oars

There are so many Ways.
As many ways as there are Lovers of God.

Some say to hoist the sail
And wait patiently
For the winds of Grace,
Making yourself “available”.

Sometimes, it seems, there is little else one can do.

Others say that when the winds do come,
We must use the rudder to guide our way,
Following the tried and true charts
Of those who have gone before.

Traditions can hold precious jewels,
Amidst the mold, detritus, and dogma.

Still others say that when the winds of Grace arrive,
We must row like madmen,
As if our very life depended on it,
Using our feet, if need be, to steer a course.

Effort has its place… for some, for a time.

All good Ways, these,
For those suited to each by their natures.

I came by a different Way, not by choice,
Finding Home and Heart
Not in a destination, a knowing, a state,
But rather, drifting without course, into The Great Mystery.

Realizing, after ancient eons, that what I sought
Could never be “found”, known or understood,
Could never be earned, or accrued through merit,
I quit sailing, and Drifted… Helpless… Surrendered.

I took down sail, unlatched rudder and oars,
And threw all into the Vastness.
Then, beyond despair,
I simply… Quit.

The last breath of hope whispered.

Loving myself, unenlightened.
Loving Life, as it is.
Liberated, at last, from Liberation and Bondage.
Defeated in my quest for enlightenment…

By Love.

“How can I help anyone?” I asked my Baba,
“When I don't know where I am,
How I got here,
Or where I'm heading?”

“Everyone seeks knowledge, teachings,
Certitude, and authority,
Not the teary, wide-eyed gaze of an Idiot,
Lost in Wonder.”

“You've made me very happy,” he laughed.
“For I would have you no other way.
If you ‘knew’ anything,
It would break my Heart.”

“Don't worry.
You'll Drift into others
Lost in the Vastness,
Who, like yourself, knowing Nothing…

Have Surrendered to Love.”