One of a series of contemplations guided at The Meditation Center, Minneapolis, USA.
A human being has no use for things sublime if he is not an aspirant, if he is not a seeker after the intangibles, if his world consists only of the tangibles. If you are an aspiring one, look for the sources of your emotion, the spiritual sources of your emotion.
Those experiences which give a sexual awakening to an average flesh-bound individual, those very experiences awaken the energy in the lower centres and make it flow upwards till it is felt in the higher centres so far as a yogi’s experience is concerned.
We need to surrender all of our emotions gradually in this manner and let God make of Himself our Friend, our Mother, our Father, our Kinsman, our Teacher, our Friend or Guide.
When you really find that One, not because someone has told you but because the presence is felt within you, then all your emotions begin to flow towards that One.
Your love flows out, immense, knowing no bounds.
Your voice trembles.
You begin to cry on the slightest possibility of separation from the great lover, God.
You laugh in ecstasy when even the shadow of that divine face is seen.
Elevating oneself is to elevate every emotion to a higher level. In the emotion of sex we bear to unite two into one. In his sublime status, a devotee unites all with the all and that is his enjoyment of such a union.
This is known as the path of bhakti, the path of devotion. The bhaktas of the past, oh, they never ceased to speak of that divine being. They sought out company of those with whom they could sit and talk about the divine mysteries and the divine love. This sublime devotion is an emotion of sattva in which a devotee is not afraid to cry, is not afraid to recite. He begins to cry when he hears someone speak of the Lord. He rejoices in the company of those who will talk the same way.
When the bhakta is reading a book, he is looking for whatever will give indication of how to reach an understanding of the mystery of God. It is not done through a process of logic, but through a process of emotion. His emotion says, “I wish to do this for you, Mother.” Accept that. Give of yourself to That One and when alone, call, call, call, Ma, Ma, Ma, come to me. Come to me, come to me.
Thus gradually, slowly we increase the sublime content of our emotion. Then we cannot utter a single sentence without remembering the name of the Deity. We cannot complete a sentence of ordinary conversation without the name of the glorious Lord coming out of our mouths. We no longer think of this body as our own possession. As a lover of the Divine Being we say, “This body is thine. This mind is thine. Come and occupy it.” And the Lord comes and occupies this body. This body then no longer belongs to the individual; it only belongs to the Deity.
Thus, the bhakta takes every emotion, every emotion, and makes of that emotion an instrument to fulfil the Divine Being’s wish. Then there is no problem to overcome fears. There is no problem to overcome angers. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants, he shouts out without shame, without inhibition.
When our emotions rise as though they are, oh, so many rivulets flowing towards a single stream, so many streams flowing and becoming an ocean; when individual beings thus transcend individuality and beg and call, the call is always returned.
This I, who am the bride of the Divine Being,
surrender myself so that His spirit may cover me,
His light may engulf me,
His radiance may illuminate me
and He may ruthlessly, surgically remove all that is impure within me.
In my vision, I see that Divine Being, I see His Shakti, the feminine force, the consort, the primal energy from where all life began, life force and the conscious force. She wears radiance as her face and I go to her, ‘Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother’. As a child wishes to be uplifted, so I wish to be elevated.
Here a reading from this author’s Light of Ten Thousand Suns:
Let me be a target of your compassionate eyes, Infinite, my beloved Infinite, or let my target be you and let me be an arrow sped from the bow of your cosmic sound called "Om." Let me ride the breezes of the breaths on my way, and as an arrow becomes one with its target, so may I be one with you, oh my life, my higher life -- Infinite, my beloved Infinite.
Love, you are my love. Joy, you are my joy. Whenever you are with me, I Am. When you are away, I cease to be. I am weak, lonely, defeated, depressed when I lose sight of you. A glimpse of you is my eternal victory, the victory that is yours, conscious one, the only conscious one of the universe -- Infinite, my beloved Infinite.
I spend only brief moments with you, but the eternity that you pack into those moments is never enough for me. Yet, I turn away from your presence like a child leaping from his mother's lap to run to a shiny wrapper, not knowing why, never knowing why, and I lose the sight of you. My light, my solar light -- Infinite, my beloved Infinite.
But now, for now and forever, the bow is ready, the breeze is right, my target is before me. Let it be your hand that shoots. Let it be your sound that is the bow. Let this breeze be your breath. Let my target be you. Let this soul be the arrow, the soul that is your spark, well feathered, winged, free with your own freedom. I am you -- Infinite, my beloved Infinite.