Another morning. But before I open my eyes, I lie still and deeply feel inside. And a recognition arises.

There is in us a presence of which we are often unaware. You have your own name for it, the presence of God, or reality, of the soul. For me it has the feeling of Maharajji, my guru.

And I lie there almost still asleep and very still, and it is there. This presence (His presence for me) is the deepest and most real way we can experience ourselves. And it is so far beyond all the identification with ego, our history and planning and pain. It is the pure essence of Self.

There it was, so pure and complete. And at that moment I knew that all life is nothing more or less than the process of this essence awakening us from the inside.

Can we let go enough of our self-effort to allow it to do its work?

Can we be open to this unspeakable grace?

Here is an entry from my friend Jai Uttals’ blog at http://jaiuttal.com/blog/:

The “Bhakti Movement” in the US these days is kind of strange to me. Wonderful, but also, weird. Wonderful because more and more people are experiencing the incredibly passionate joy of singing God’s names; and weird because, as Americans, we seem to feel the need to make it ‘special,’ and make ourselves ‘special’, and use Madison-Avenue type names to label and increase our ‘special-ness.’ We throw around words like ‘bhakti,’ ‘bhava’ and ‘ecstacy’ as if they are ice cream flavors or new types of kombucha. But in India, where all this stuff comes from, these words denote deep spiritual states, attained by only a few very lucky and very devoted souls who then become inspirations for the rest of us. When we in the west get together for an evening of Kirtan everyone is so eager to ‘get off,’ to have a super high euphoric experience, kind of like a rock concert…. This is fine, I suppose, but it’s just sooooo different from what we experience in a small temple in North India, where the devotees feel like they’ve been chanting for lifetimes and lifetimes, oblivious to the highs and lows, riding the waves of emotion and mood, resting in deep longing and fulfillment and surrender, awaiting God’s mercy. Is ‘Bhakti’ just a ‘high?’ A cool, blissed-out experience? The great ‘bhaktas’ (devotees) of old all write of an immense love and an even greater dependence on their beloved’s response. “My Lord, I’ve done nothing to deserve your embrace, but please come to me anyway!!!” Oh well. Maybe I’m just an old curmudgeon, too hard on myself and thus too hard on everyone else…

Here’s a true story of ‘Bhakti’…… (I probably have many details of this story incorrect, and I thought I would do some research before writing it. But instead I’m just diving in. Please forgive any historical or theological errors.)

In a dusty desert village in West Bengal, in the 15th century, sat an old but still very active little temple to the Goddess. Day in and day out, for hundreds of years, the poor villagers had been prostrating themselves there to ask for better harvests, more sons, and more money; in other words, relief from their suffering. To some the Goddess responded, but to most She remained mute. As in all Hindu temples of that time, a young Brahmin (someone from the highest, priestly, caste) was engaged to officiate the prayers and offerings, and to distribute ‘prasad’ (consecrated food). Chandidas, as he was called, was deeply committed to his tasks, yet he was confused by what he perceived as the Mother’s callous ignoring of Her children’s requests. “Are you really there?” he would ask the statue. “Please, please show me that you are hearing my words!”… But there was no response.

One day, as Chandidas was preparing the ‘aarti’ (offering) lights, he heard a brushing sound coming from the other side of the worship hall. Turning around, Chandidas was struck by what felt like a lightening bolt to his soul. Was it the Goddess, herself? Well, that’s been the big question for over five hundred years. Because quietly working in the corner, partially veiled, was Rami, a young woman from the village, an ‘untouchable’ (the lowest caste), sweeping the temple floors. Chandidas gasped and whispered “Radha.” Rami lowered her almond eyes saying ‘Govinda, my Lord.”

And thus began one of the most remarkable love affairs in history. Chandidas, who had never written a single line of poetry in his life, began to record his romance with Rami with an incredible outpouring of songs of the love of Radha and Krishna; songs of ecstacy, songs of anguish, in the first person voices of both God and Goddess. Perhaps Rami wrote the songs with him, for the voice of Radha emerged even stronger and more clearly than did the voice of Govinda. Of this we’ll never know.

Meanwhile, there was another voice that began to scream and howl. The power structure of the village, the political and ‘spiritual’ elders, had become enraged at this blasphemous affront to the caste system, in the heart of the very temple itself. A Brahmin and an untouchable having an illicit affair!!! And cloaking it in the language of scripture!!! An outrage beyond compare!!! The two lovers were ordered to stop seeing each other. Rami was of course fired from her job at the temple and thrown back into her life of poverty and Chandidas’ every step was watched by the unblinking eyes of the town bosses. But did this diminish the path of true love? Not one bit. In fact, as they were forced to meet in more and more secrecy, the songs of Chandidas took on an even more mystical hue, invoking as they did the illicit, mysterious nature of Radha and Krishna’s divine love. But in a small town in 15th century India, secrets could not be kept for very long. Soon, Rami was banished and Chandidas was thrown into prison. Demanded to deny his love, Chandidas simple bowed his head and proclaimed the eternal reality of ‘Radha Ramana Hari.’ Tears streaking the dust and dirt of his face, the young Brahmin fell to the prison floor chanting the glories of the divine couple: “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.” What difference was there for him between his love and passion for Rami and the ‘Rasa Lila’ (divine play) of Radha and Krishna? Nothing could stop the river of love flowing from Chandidas’ very soul. And so, in the ultimate act of fear, the village elders tortured Chandidas, finally tying his limbs to four horses and tearing his youthful body apart. As his soul departed his agonized body, the villagers could heard the words: “Hare Krishna…. My Rami, My Radha!”…..

Today, centuries later, the love songs of Chandidas are still sung reverently and, yes, ecstatically, by the villagers, Bauls, and devotees of West Bengal. Praising the divine lovers, falling at the feet of the divine lovers and identifying with the undying passion of the divine lovers….. With tears of longing to feel just a drop of what Chandidas must have felt. To have just the tiniest taste of true ‘Bhakti’, true love…… I’ve seen with my own eyes these mystic Bauls singing Chandidas’ songs, dressed in patchwork robes, begging the Lord for just one crumb, pounding out rhythms on a small drum or even just a wooden table, plucking a one stringed ektara, and remembering one of the great heroes of love, Chandidas, and his beloved, Rami.

How does it start? Some day you have an experience and your world shifts. Suddenly – or gradually – you come to realize that Spirit is true, that there is a dimension of grace you can enter. At that moment God steps out of a book and becomes a real presence for you (even though you may not relate to a God, which is fine.)

The result is: You have entered spiritual life.

This experience can be a moment of deep inner peace, of being fully alive in the here and now; it may be an experience of emotional harmony or a great opening of the Heart. These are the kinds of decisive experiences after which your life may never be quite the same.

Then we go on a journey. We lose the experience and want it again. A yearning has been awakened. What can we do?

We learn about spiritual practice. We sit still for hours, turn our bodies into pretzels, make pilgrimages to teachers or shrines and especially read lots of books. It is all good.

And where do we end up when we finally arrive where we are going?

We end up once more in deep inner peace, being fully alive in the here and now; we feel again that emotional harmony or that great opening of the Heart.

We return to where we began, in grace, in the breath-taking presence of Being or God. Inside ourselves. In the core.

We end up where it all began – wiser, much more solid, our mind peaceful, our Heart vibrant, big and alive.

The journey is a cycle from you to you, from now to now. You get lost in the middle, even while trying to find yourself. You want to shorten the time it takes to get back to what you are seeking. You are confusing yourself by your seeking.

There are 10,000 things to do while trying to get back to that place of pure grace. Most go in circles. Which are the few that take you straight back to yourself? Which ones dissolve the internal tensions that keep you in internal exile from grace? Which ones can nurture you so deeply you get the stamina to face your own demons – and not in 10 life times, but now?

This journey is not a walk in the park, you may have noticed. It is the greatest adventure bar none open to human beings.

On this road you will have to face any terror your mind can dream up and overcome every habitual pain and confusion.

And the payoff is eternal life. No cheap goal by anyone’s standards.

So again the question: what can take you there? What can give you the access to the pure essence of this highest goal?

Perhaps not surprisingly it is the pursuit of the experiences that began it all. The experiences you will be established in when you have arrived, when you have crossed the ocean of confusion and pain to the other shore of divine bliss.

The essential practices are to step directly into the Promised Land. To stop the 10,000 distractions – and yes, even those that are labeled ‘spiritual practice’ – and enter the Heart, which in its unlimited richness is always waiting for you to come home.

Always waiting. Still waiting. YOU are in there, still waiting.

And I know, so many will read these words and not understand. So let me say it again:

Your Heart is available to you this moment. It is as far from you as the Now. It is the central core of space, as the Now is the core of time. The core contains everything. Why not return to that core in you now?

Oh no, so many say, “I have to continue my sadhana, my spiritual practice” and they wind their legs around their ears and sit their bottoms flat and read the 20^th book that tells them the same thing they cannot hear: It’s inside you now!

So go there! But you can’t. Your thoughts and emotions get in the way. You follow them rather than your hidden instinct that says “Stop it all. Stop. Listen to what he is saying. Let it come in. Maybe there is something to this…”

There are 3 skills you need: Clear the mind quickly and effectively. Bring your confused emotions to harmony. And drink from your Heart the Essence of love that you are secretly aching to feel.

It is the best kept secret in the world. It is secret because we keep it secret from ourselves. We have become lost in a trance state. Somehow we can say the words and believe them; “It’s all inside.” And still we don’t look. Still we don’t become still enough to feel the ravishing Heart Essence. Still we are lost.

I sit with people and I see myself in them, the way I was: tense, the body shifting, the mind not at rest. There is no space for peace to get in. There is no rest in pure love.

Not yet.

But if you want it, stop. Stop now. Make a huge foolish decision to love yourself absolutely! It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.

“Everything that happens is God’s will. When you realize that, you’re home free.”
- Byron Katie