The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears."
--John Vance Cheney,
Poet and Essayist
Poet and Essayist
At the end of the meditation, Dal, our guide asked, "Louise. What do you know?"
I dried the tears on my cheeks and replied. "Resistance is futile. I am. Love is."
It was one of those moments of utter clarity. Of knowing. Of being.
We spend our lives struggling to make sense of our lives. We spend time and energy doing whatever we can to create value in our world. To live on purpose. To be of significance.
All of these things are important. They are our journey and they make a difference in the quality of our journey -- but not our existence. For, no matter what we do or become or say or acquire or create, when all the doing, all the struggle to be, to have purpose, to know our 'raison d'etre' is over, one irrefutable truth remains. We are. Love is.
All of these things are important. They are our journey and they make a difference in the quality of our journey -- but not our existence. For, no matter what we do or become or say or acquire or create, when all the doing, all the struggle to be, to have purpose, to know our 'raison d'etre' is over, one irrefutable truth remains. We are. Love is.
No matter what we do, when we leave this earth, when our bodies dissolve into tiny atoms of matter, it matters not to the Universe what we did or had or created. What matters is that we shone, as brightly as possible. What matters is -- we were and always will be, Love.
It was so clear to me in my meditation. The energy. The beauty. The profound depth of our exquisite nature. We are. Love is.
And in this journey of our lifetimes, what we do in our daily lives enhances the quality of our journey. Never the quality of our essence. For always, our essence is perfect. Our beings are divine.
It is the eternal impulse to create, to evolve, to grow, to become that we honour in our travels through life. It is the eternal urge to shine, to cast light, to cast off the darkness that moves us in our journey.
I saw it yesterday on my walk with Ellie. In spite of the snow and cool temperatures of the past couple of days, the crocus have continued to push up through the grass, up towards the sky and are now sprouting beautiful purple flowers. Their urge to create, to become, to be is a continuous cycle of life and death which, regardless of the conditions around them, they cannot resist. And in their blossoming, for a few short days/weeks, they create beauty in our world, making way for the other blossoms to follow.
Two weeks ago when I was out at the coast, spring was in full bloom. It is past now. The blossoms have turned green, the continual urge to create fruit, to create new continues.
Here at the foot of the Rockies, spring is just beginning. And the eternal impulse to evolve, to create, to grow continues on.
In my life, I have struggled to create matter, to be of significance, to make a difference. It matters not how I struggle. Resistance is futile.
I am. Love is. Life goes on.
And when I am gone, all I can leave behind is -- Love.
When I am gone, the space I have filled with my being here will remain as its true nature -- Love.
And in that knowing I am comforted. It isn't about 'what' I do, it's about how I do it.
May I do In Love all that I create In Life.
Namaste.
It is the eternal impulse to create, to evolve, to grow, to become that we honour in our travels through life. It is the eternal urge to shine, to cast light, to cast off the darkness that moves us in our journey.I saw it yesterday on my walk with Ellie. In spite of the snow and cool temperatures of the past couple of days, the crocus have continued to push up through the grass, up towards the sky and are now sprouting beautiful purple flowers. Their urge to create, to become, to be is a continuous cycle of life and death which, regardless of the conditions around them, they cannot resist. And in their blossoming, for a few short days/weeks, they create beauty in our world, making way for the other blossoms to follow.
Two weeks ago when I was out at the coast, spring was in full bloom. It is past now. The blossoms have turned green, the continual urge to create fruit, to create new continues.
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| The Nature of Love |
In my life, I have struggled to create matter, to be of significance, to make a difference. It matters not how I struggle. Resistance is futile.
I am. Love is. Life goes on.
And when I am gone, all I can leave behind is -- Love.
When I am gone, the space I have filled with my being here will remain as its true nature -- Love.
And in that knowing I am comforted. It isn't about 'what' I do, it's about how I do it.
May I do In Love all that I create In Life.
Namaste.
6 comments:
This is so beautiful Louise. I am. Love is. Thank you for the reminder that love endures and when we struggle to be better or different or in the limelight it is how we love that will be remembered. I guess if I ever got to choose my epitaph it would be: She was loved and loved well.
life goes on
it ends
THE END
we cannot live, I believe, our best if our focus is on what we leave behind or how anyone will see us when we are gone
when we are gone, the truth will out and we will be remembered (or not) for who we were to those who mattered .... and nobody else will know or care
live each day for you and those you choose to love in a way that makes YOU happy
that is what we can do
and then we die
THE END
Cheers,
Mark
It isn't about 'what' I do, it's about how I do it.
This line says it all about everything, about love, about life.
Nice x
This post, this sentiment, so beautiful it almost made me cry! In the end, Love is all there is! Deep down we knew that, didn't we?!
I think it's the most beautiful post. Thank you Louise for sharing. My two blog posts of the week were about two meditation sessions, and today I wrote about my mum and the love she left behind. Coincidence? maybe, or maybe also an opportunity to say that I love your posts on both blogs, and I appreciate your visits to my Blog. Thank you Louise <3
Thinking about love, I recently met two of the most unloving people you can imagine--self-absorbed single young professionals who would stab you in the back while they bid you Good Morning. I felt sorry for them. I am loved, and I do love, and I had a much better time than they did because of it.
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