Sometimes I forget what’s important. I forget that the world is made of love. I forget it. That’s human. I do it. My consciousness springs a leak and I forget. Ut oh. I do it frequently. And then, after a while, something happens to remind me, gently I hope, sometimes with ferocity, of what’s important, that the world is made of love. I then hold the realization like a glistening diamond for a second, or a minute, or an hour. I’m delighted, amazed, I’m filled with joy. And then, too soon, too soon, I lose it again, forget it, cannot remember where I put it. It’s gone. Where’d it go? I know I had it, I remember what it looked and felt like, but, alas, it’s gone. I know it’s gone. I admit it. I’m sad. I wish it were here. I’m afraid it won’t return. Despair is coming. And then, maybe, in the sound of the wind or the song of a bird or a dream, I hear it again, a hint, a reminder, an echo. There it is. It’s in me, it’s in all of us. We’re all made of it. It’s a world of love. Everything is made of it. We’re all connected, we’re all in everything else. And then, poof, it vanishes again. Where is it? Sometimes it stays gone for a long, long time. Sometimes not. And then, isn’t it wonderful? it returns. And when it returns, when the joy and ecstasy and unity and wonder and love and abundance and bliss return there’s only one thing to do.
Here is an example of the one thing to do:
There are, of course, other things to do also. There are as many things to do as there are people. There are 6 billion things to do. I like celebrations and ceremonies and drumming and dancing and chanting. Why? Because it’s the love we’re made of that’s most important and all of that expresses bhakti. And, yes, there are 6 billion other expressions of it.
May your world, and all of our worlds be filled with abundant love. And may we all celebrate it, each in our own chosen way, in bliss.
