There are no seekers worthy of divine grace. Grace is a gift we cannot negotiate our way into. There are no techniques, no processes which can open the Gates of Heaven.

Surrender is the only thing we can do.

Yet without the unearned grace of the divine relieving us of the burden of the self-absorption, we are lost to ourselves and lost to God. Most of us are in a sleep state stumbling through life without wonder, without amazement to guide us beyond ourselves. The familiar has robbed us of surprise at the sheer mystery and miracle of simply drawing breath!

Like abandoned lovers, we might long to lie on the lintel of the divine’s inner chamber, waiting, waiting for the least possibility of the eventual arrival of the cosmic groom. Yet, sadly, we lack sufficient desire to meet stillness with stillness, to match silence with silence. We are distracted by the noise of our untrained minds, the inconstancy of our fickle affections, and mad with the unquenchable thirst of travelers lost in a desert of unrelieved desire.

Each of us is a cosmic itch nothing we do can scratch.

Crazed with the delusion of having preferences to satisfy, we jump from one surface satisfaction to another, thinking we are cultivating a personal experience which enriches rather than robs us of our natural depth, our natural desire to unfurl the deepest most invisible aspect of our unassailable authenticity which can only be found by losing all that we think we own; by losing the small circumference of the personality, we can claim the boundariless fullness of the Self which dwells in each perception, each feeling, each glance, each breath, waiting, waiting for us to finally fully turn our secret faces towards the Godhead hidden within our quietest moments where time intersects with eternity.

 

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