the veils are thin

The veils are thin. My dreams are making music with my life. The beloved is dancing with me through all forms. Right now it is the tall pines next to me that hold in the silence and tiniest baby lizard doing pushups in the sun. If I’m still enough, these details become the foreground, the richness of the quiet is revealed to me.

Sometimes I get these flashing moments, where it seems the curtains of reality are pulled back, for just an instant, and with it a sense of calm and peace. And all of it seems much more manageable. Like, “oh, it’s just this, it’s actually quite simple, and let me hand you the rules of this game we are all playing blind.” But it’s so fleeting, so my palms get to grasp on for just a moment, and then it slips through my fingers, back into the mystery again.

I am in love with my life, with the beauty of this existence, and the more I soak in the hot spring of this love, the more the curtains fall into a crumpled heap, exposing the bare back wall, the grid, the fly system of this grand theater. These inner workings, now seen, are somehow more mysterious, not less, like the more I learn about the body, the more I descend into the fractaling nature of its design. Smaller and smaller, I pour myself into the expanse of infinity, an unending fascinating mystery.

And so my dreams are making music with my life. Why do we wait for death for the veils to part, when the fabric is right within arms reach, right now? I can reach out right now and run my fingers along the rich purple velvet, the pale pink chiffon, peer through the translucence, the opaque, and see that what is beyond is also within. And so I sit in this stillness. Rays of sun finger-dance through yellowing leaves, a lizard scurries into the warmth. I am still enough.

october 7, 2017

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