We are so busy. It seems our minds only know running. They run here and there, aggravated about what we don’t want and greedy for our desires. On and on they run to exhaustion and then some more, and even more after that.

Why? What are they running from?

Because the great fear we have is that one day we will fall into the great love we have inside. No, I don’t mean the love you know, that emotional surge that soon enough puts on a coat of attachment and snuffs itself out.

I mean the great love, the love that obliterates you, the love that devours your mind, that leaves you still, really still, so still that you can’t even remember what all the stuff was that you once chased after.

Then what will you be? How will you pay the bills, the mind frets?  How will you gossip about the neighbors and hold on to your old gripes and complaints?

There is a fear we have of that love, and so we build walls. We build wall upon wall around our hearts, silently hoping for a great storm that comes and demolishes our defenses. And when that storm comes and shakes the foundations of the imitation reality you have built for yourself, then what will you do?

Will you recognize this storm as the breath of the God you have professed to love? Or will you scream and complain about the unfairness of the world that does not allow you to continue to live your sweet counterfeit dream?

The storm that shakes your house down can come to you in many ways. It can be cancer or a loved ones sudden death. It can be the false accusation, or the true one. It can be a pain of unknowable origin. Or it can be the black hand of God, directly peeling from your eyes the crust that has kept you blind.

This shaking will hurt to the exact measure of your attachments. Let them go and you will be no obstacle to the wind. Hold on and it will tear you to pieces, slowly, through thousands of years, for love does not force itself, and the understanding grows only with your maturity.

And in the end you will see that it is all love. There is no other player in the game. The real God, the one with no name, the one that is calling you home, she has that quality.

Love,

Ram Giri