Monday, April 07, 2008
The Moment of Opening
At the moment of opening, one loses virtually all sense of self. All that exists is this vast, inscrutable, immeasurable, indescribable reality, which is now pouring into your crown as a stream of ecstatic energy. At that instant, you no longer exist as a separate entity, a being with a name and an identity it claims as its own.
You are now nothing, merely a particle in an unknown, rapturous source, a minute component in that which cannot be named. All thoughts, concepts, notions, questions, quibblings, theories and speculations about “truth” fall away. Only This exists.
Later you may reflect on the experience, wonder about it, marvel and examine. But only in the midst of it, the actual instant, can you realize the essence of the divine flow.
Later, a question arises. If you are so swept from yourself that you do not know what is happening, how can you have any awareness, then or later, of the event itself?
I suspect that at those moments, when we seem to be in unbroken awareness of The Other, we do in fact flicker in and out of “normal consciousness,” and it is these brief “returns” which allow us to retain a vague notion of what is happening, even at that time. But—if too much sense of self intrudes (when we think of what is happening), the state vanishes. Only when we surrender “personal” awareness does it continue.
Perhaps this—the condition of oneness with “divine rapture”—is the source from which we come, and the reality to which we return when we leave this plane. Perhaps it is what is called by many “heaven.” Possibly—as many who have had near death experiences report—it is the ecstatic state, the entry into unconditional love—which will come to us all when we “go home.”