Home for good

I am not sure what I am going to write about, but I have some feelings and insights I feel like putting down on paper.

Just now, I was recalling a nightly adventure with a female friend.

We had been friends for a long time, and I had always liked her, and I was in fact crazy about her and I adored her.

At one point, I even thought we might end up getting married.

But we had never kissed, and it had always been only playing around, neither one taking a step and me feeling, as I intuitively had been feeling since I first saw her many years before, that I was ‘not sure’ about her.

I was curious, I would say, curious as to the question if she was ‘for real’.

Or if she was just… I don’t know. I couldn’t say, but there was a feeling about her that basically felt like she was just a lot of show, and nothing real. Nothing serious.

I was just now recalling one night we were parked in some remote place in my car, and we were, at last after many years, kissing and touching.

And I was kind of feeling like ‘finally, we’re there’, and as we were going along I made advances to move to the next stage, to make love to her and be one with her in the fires of passion, which I thought we were celebrating.

But she started pushing me off, ‘no’, still smiling and not giving me an explanation.

After a few minutes I tried again, and again I was pushed away, with a smile and a refusal that she didn’t feel like explaining.

So things came to an end without anything actually happening, and I drove her home, disappointed and confused.

When I was recalling her pushing me away just now, in concentrated meditation, it seemed like all she was, was refusal at that point. Resistance. And she enjoyed being that. It made her feel important. It was her game, I realized, the game she has been playing with me from the first time we checked each other out, right up until a few years ago, when I decided to end our friendship because I felt she had never been serious or straight with me.

And when I felt her making a fuss, I felt as if this display of self-importance, which she enjoyed putting on, was a mode of being that was complete in itself.

It was the ego, the ego putting on a display of tension with the aim of proving it was ‘something’.

You may know I believe in nothingness, emptiness.

Chilling.

Relaxing.

Neverminding.

But this ‘thing’ that always needs to be there, even in the most inappropriate and uncalled for situations, this thing that I consider to be bad news, and which will always choose its timing so as to be the worst it can be, this thing I believe is the ego, the importance of the self.

I must have had a sense for it when I first met her, being hesitant about her, and having a feeling that she was all show and nobody was home for real.

Now it’s not about my frustrations, my frustrations with this girl, which could be called the prototype of my frustration with people, male and female alike, in general.

You have the best and innocent of intentions, and you are trying to do something fun, and then it is there, the ‘no’, the fuss, the business, the agenda, the refusal.

Why?

Why not?

What’s the problem?

And then you get some excuses or a sermon, which leaves you dazed and confused, and you feel like you’ve just been hit with a sledge hammer, in the midst of your innocent and oblivious play.

So I’ve come to be very depressed about people in general.

Not a lot you can do with them.

O sure, you can think up all kinds of complicated evil games, and they will get enthusiastic, but just having some fun… They’re just not really turned on by that.

So I am very, and I mean very, very, very frustrated, to the point where I have given up trying to communicate with people at all. I have no more hopes, I have no more dreams, I have no more great and wonderful expectations.

All I have, is a very deep problem with the ego.

And that is maybe just as it should be.

So some days earlier, as I was meditating, I suddenly felt the edge of my being, I touched, as if it were, reality.

And reality was as I had always known it: compassion.

Pure and real, authentic compassion.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing else.

And I felt like ‘yes, there you are, world’.

And then again I felt my self pushing it away, cutting it off, and retreating to my own private thoughts and agenda. I was thinking ‘that boring old compassion. Haven’t I known it for as long as I can recall? What else is there?’.

And as I went to sleep that night, I realized, that it was true.

That creation is love, and that we are the ones refusing it, pushing it away for our personal quest and agenda for something ‘more’.

But in fact, what I had tasted, and what had always been present in the farthest and most stable corners of my awareness, was what we are all thirsting for, I believe.

Compassion.

We are always complaining, there is so much we are suffering from, and I believe compassion is the answer. It is what we seek. It is where we can end our search and drop into silence.

I believe it is what heaven is made of.

I believe heaven is a state of full awareness of the compassionate nature of creation.

What else is there to find?

And as I realized god was compassion, I thought ‘why not suffer a bit, so I have a reason to be given compassion?’. And at that moment, I would have suffered all and everything, because I was so sure compassion was there, and I felt suffering was just the other side of it, maybe not the deserving of it, really, but like giving it a reason to manifest itself, inviting it into my life.

Like a skydiver diving excited and happily from an airplane, I felt like jumping into a whole lot of suffering, to justify the compassion of creation, to deserve it, I don’t know, it’s not really deserving it, because you don’t have to deserve it, but rather just to play with it, to be its partner in a kind of a dance.

I suffer, and creation provides compassion.

So these two things together, I think it is very important.

It is we who push love away.

It is not that love is not there.

It is not that love does not exist.

It is us who leave the state of being in love, for something more, something else.

Perhaps as I felt it, because we are ‘bored’ with love, because it is so ordinary, and because we know it will always be there, like some parent who has done a good job giving us stable roots and now we can venture out into the world, leaving our home and going on a big search and adventure to find our own lives.

Love is our home.

The home we long to leave.

And when we are on our journeys, we sometimes get a little homesick.

And some get really really very very homesick.

To some, finding love, and finding compassion again, somewhere on their journey, is like a thirsty man who was been drifting through the desert finding a well, an endless well, to quench his thirst and drink from.

And the question that arose was, why did I not appreciate my home more?

Why did I not stay close to creation?

Why did I leave heaven?

For in the end, coming home is all everybody wants.

It is what will end the crying, end the suffering and the complaining.

But it is very strange, it is us, it is we ourselves, who leave it because we want something more.

Because only love, it’s boring.

We want more, we want adventures, we want things.

We want ‘a life’, excitement.

And as I said, on that road, we may get homesick.

It is difficult to understand, when you have not experienced it, but maybe love goes away because we do not appreciate it. Because we do not stay close to it. Because we do not find it to be enough.

I am thinking now of the people in the jungle.

Are they close to creation?

Are they in love?

And will they leave it?

For adventure, for something else, to become someone perhaps and be important?

It almost feels like a fairy tale, this endless story of people setting out to find and realize themselves, only to find that the way to fulfillment lies in returning.

Returning home, appreciating love, celebrating the compassion that has always been right there with them, in their hearts, in their spirits, in their minds.

Like a great conqueror also seeks to return to the simplicity of his home after all of the fighting and killing and conquering is done.

Don’t we all need a home?

Don’t we all love ‘home’?

Don’t we all crave for love, and crave for compassion, and is that not what we are crying for, what we are trying to receive when we share our pain and our doubts and fears with another soul?

Then why are we so hard?

Why is it like the world is like a corset, that binds off our feeling and shuts off our breath?

Why do we try to live without love?

Why do we refuse our home, why can we not stay there, in compassion, in peace, in a simple state of love?

There must be ego, there must be something better.

There must be a conquest, there must be an adventure.

We must realize ourselves.

I, I, I.

Me, me, me.

And we refuse all help, we refuse all compassion, we cut ourselves off from it, we push it away. Because we want to prove that we can do it all alone ourselves. We have to be something, we have to realize ourselves. We are concerned about our ego, our personality. We want to make something of ourselves.

And when all else fails, and when we are crying, and when we are lost, let us remember home. Let us touch again the heart of creation, which is compassion and nothing more.

Understanding, patience, love.

Like a mother.

Like a sister.

Like a brother.

We are all people, personalities looking to ‘make it’ and striving for what they call self-realization. Making our first million. Getting where we want to be.

And how, in the end, all we want is to find what we left again, and how you can even call it a tragedy. That we push love away, and grow into these hard people who believe in fighting, in the hard way.

I don’t believe the way is hard.

I believe creation is a soft sweet place.

And it is a place worth returning to.

It is the heaven we are all crying for.

So let us be that for each other. Let us bring each other home. Let us show people what they’re leaving behind, and make them doubt.

Make them doubt that what they need is what they really need.

And maybe they do, I don’t know, maybe they do need to go find themselves and make a career and make their first million.

But more than their first and second million, they need love.

They need a home full of pure compassion.

They need creation.

Stay close.

It is truly heaven.

And it is always there.

Can you not be bored with it?

Can you lose the impatience?

Can it be enough?