Tag: oneness

Married!

Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
On June 22, almost exactly one year after the defeat of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), my partner Anne and I were married in a small ceremony in Cambridge, Massachusetts. In so doing, we became part of a tidal wave of ongoing historic change in the United States. May and June, in particular, are significant months for the gay/lesbian community. On June 28, 1969, demonstrators spontaneously took to the streets and fought back against a police raid at the Stonewall Inn in New York City. Stonewall became the pivotal rallying focus for the beginning of the gay rights movement in the U.S. A year later, on June 28, 1970, the first annual Gay Pride marches took place in New York and other cities, spreading around the world in the decades since then. In May of 2004, Massachusetts became the first state to allow legal marriages of same-sex couples. Ten years later, here we are, a married couple, after 31 years together.

People often wonder why we waited ten years. Well, primarily because of the tax complications—we would have had to file differently for state and federal since only one recognized same-sex marriage until DOMA was struck down. Also, marriage had never really been on our radar. It wasn’t something that mattered to us, and we had never thought about it as remotely possible. Over the years, we watched state after state and then the federal government pass acts and laws banning same-sex marriage. We both attended national marches on Washington for gay/lesbian/bi equal rights in 1987 and 1993. Finally, unbelievably, the tide began to turn, thanks to the activism of groups like GLAD, as well as countless courageous individuals, well-known and unknown, who came out in their lives and helped to shift public consciousness. In 2004, marriage became an option for those of us in same-sex relationships in Massachusetts.

As Anne and I attended the weddings of gay and lesbian friends, we were deeply moved by the open-hearted love, sharing, and support that took place. We began to consider the possibility of marrying, not so much for legal reasons but for sentimental ones—to share our love with friends and family. We didn’t want to come to the end of our lives and regret not having experienced something so special and really quite sacred. We also wanted to be part of the amazing, expansive energy that was transforming the world around us. So in January of this year, we decided to get married.

Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse

Almost immediately, magic began to stream into our lives. Our dear friend Ji Hyang,who had just moved to California, told us she could fly in and marry us on June 22. Mount Auburn Cemetery, a beloved nearby nature sanctuary, was available for an outdoor wedding ceremony on that date. From California, Nevada, Illinois, Washington, DC, New York, and Massachusetts, friends and family told us that they “wouldn’t miss” being there. So many people offered to help with the wedding and backyard reception that we were moved to tears of gratitude again and again by the generosity and genuine happiness everyone expressed. Even the two clerks at our town hall were excited and welcoming when we applied for our marriage license. They took our picture and sent us off for celebratory ice cream.

So, on the day after the summer solstice, Anne and I awoke to a morning of the most perfect weather imaginable. Blues skies and lush green foliage framed Auburn Lake, where the ceremony took place. Friends who hadn’t seen each other in decades came together in joyful reunion to celebrate our wedding. The ceremony we had created played out in the most wondrous of ways: flute, guitar, songs, poetry, metta (loving kindness), reflections, and vows flowed seamlessly into an exquisite tapestry of love and light. Looking out at the radiant, loving faces that surrounded us, Anne and I felt like we had been lifted to a higher vibration, our hearts overflowing with love. Every hug, every word spoken, every tear shed, was a miracle that opened up into yet another miracle. Toward the end of the ceremony, a sudden strong wind moved powerfully through the trees overhead, as if Spirit were mirroring back our feelings and blessing each and every one of us. It was a day unlike any I have experienced in my lifetime. A day of the extraordinary and the miraculous—and, as several friends told us, “the most beautiful wedding ever.”

Looking Back Looking Forward

Photo Courtesy of Mike Dubrovich
Photo Courtesy of Mike Dubrovich
Recently, a childhood friend posted on Facebook a vintage black-and-white photograph of our first grade class. What a strange experience to look at that picture of unfamiliar school children and slowly begin to see familiarity in their faces. Names from the past popped up out of distant memory. I did not, however, recognize myself. I told my friend that I must have been out sick the day the photo was taken. He wrote back, “Isn’t that you on the far left end of the second row?” I peered at the picture more closely and realized in amazement that he was right. Fascinated, I stared at that blondish little girl with big dark eyes, gazing out into her own future. My future. I looked through her eyes and saw myself looking back. Time ceased to exist in that moment of backward-forward perception.

How often do we stumble across those flashes of memory that stop us in our tracks momentarily, lost somewhere between the past and the present? Some say human life is a series of beginnings and endings out of which we fashion our remembered sense of self in the world. Yet we are so much more than our memories, which are really just a long parade of Instagram photographs that we identify as our personal history, our life’s story. Beyond the mental perceptions of time and our place in it, however, is consciousness itself—an awareness that is greater than any one life. In those brief moments of backward/forward memory jumps, we are given an opportunity to see our life from the soul’s point of view, wherein all time is simultaneous, and everything is occurring now. There is no real distinction between a past, present, or future self. The soul sees one being, experiencing time but not defined by it.

Why would we want to see things from the soul’s perspective? Well, if we completely open to soul vision, we see everything is of a piece, whole. We perceive the oneness at the core of all life. Conflicts, comparisons, and judgments fall away. We can never fail our childhood selves and the dreams they had for the future, because we are those children and we are living those dreams now. We are not lost, nor have we taken a wrong path or made a wrong decision. Everything is unfolding in a way that is perfect for our soul’s growth and evolution.

When I looked back at my childhood self in that photo, I wondered, Where is the “I” that is all of me, girl and woman? My soul answered: I am no where. I am now here. I am present. I AM. Taking a long, deep breath, I felt the wholeness of that “I AM,” a timeless soul presence beyond “where.” No separation—the adult and the child are one. If we open our hearts to the soul’s vision of oneness, we can embrace all possibilities and all selves, and life begins to flow in a less fragmented, graceful way. We are able to see the perfection that is at the heart of our own infinitely expansive lives. Within that perfection, there is no backward or forward; there is just fluid, unbroken, loving presence.

Simply Being

Photograph © 2011 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2011 Peggy Kornegger

As I meditate for longer and longer periods of time (1­–2 hours) at daybreak each morning, I am finding complexity and simplicity are merging into one flowing experience. Seems contradictory, I know, but only because of the constraints of language. Put another way, layer upon layer of awareness is opening up within me, yet all the layers are part of one whole, one seamless state of being. I’m discovering it is possible to feel inner peace at the same time that I’m feeling sadness or distraction. I am aware of silence at the heart of all sound, of light at the center of darkness. Beyond the illusion of separation, there is wholeness. Within complexity itself is infinite simplicity. Perhaps the best way to describe all of this is oneness, feeling one with everything, at times just resting without thought in simply being, in simply breathing.

Various spiritual traditions speak of such moments. The Sanskrit word samadhi refers to union or merging with God or the Divine, and the Hebrew word devekut describes intense melding or deep communion with God in prayer or meditation. Humans have tried with words to approximate an experience of Divine union or universal oneness that really defies description. Yet we try.

Because I am a writer, I have always felt a deep compelling urge to describe my own spiritual journeys. Yet, the deeper I dive, the harder it is to find the exact words to replicate what I am feeling. Indeed, during one of my deepest inner experiences of infinity (in a session with Panache Desai), I completely lost the desire to write or describe at all. For several hours, I remained in a state of infinite peace. My journal lay untouched nearby. Lately, as I spend longer periods of time in meditation, this same experience is recurring. Words are unnecessary within pure being, the soul silently witnessing. Language arises from thought, and when thoughts float by without attachment or disappear, there is no need to speak or write. Only, later, as I come to the surface from these depths, do I reach for my pen.

This is not to say that the goal of life is to give up speaking or writing. I guess that what I am getting at here is that the experience of peaceful oneness without words changes you. I perceive the world a little differently. The need for constant intervention and effort diminishes. Events seem to flow of their own accord without my monitoring them. There is a recognition of a higher intelligence at work, an intricate tapestry of which I am but one fiber. And my purpose, as that fiber, is to simply be myself, not orchestrate the entire universe. There is a humility in this, a letting go. It doesn’t mean lack of doing; it means doing that arises from being—a softer, less frenetic approach to life. When I write, the words flow from my soul more than my mind.

Am I in this space all the time? No, of course not. I am human. My mind gets busy, and I start to make lists, feel rushed, etc. But those experiences are becoming more transitory, less all-consuming. My soul self knows better, and that connection grows ever stronger. All of us have that connection, and we are gradually learning its importance. There truly is an inner core of peace. When we open to that peace, one breath at a time, it simplifies everything.

It’s All Just Divine!

© 2011 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
© 2011 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
Divine is an interesting word, with more than one meaning, depending on context. The adjective divine means godly, angelic, or heavenly, in the spiritual sense. Divinity, or the Divine, is another name for God in some traditions. Then, somehow, the “heavenly” reference came to also mean splendid or sensational, especially with regard to food. “This chocolate cake is divine!” There is even a kind of fudge called divinity. The experience of God and the experience of food can both be transcendent, as we all know!

In my spiritual exploration over the past 20 years, I have often used Divine as an alternate name for Spirit, Source, or God/dess. I like the word because it has a shining, translucent aspect to it, like something floating between this dimension and another. Which is, I suppose, what God is, really—a luminous, non-localized presence. Within my own meditation and yoga practice, I have experienced that Divine presence at different times as shivers all over my body, tears in my eyes, inner vibration, pulsing in my palms, or deep expansive peace. More and more, I know that I am not alone and heavenly guidance is available to me 24/7 if I just breathe deeply and tap into that space of inner peace. This connection is not always instantaneous (to say the least), but if I just remember that it’s there, then I am halfway home.

One morning recently, I found myself unable to quiet my busy mind and the endless stream of distracting thoughts that filled my consciousness. Self-judgment followed. Then, I heard again the inner guidance I had heard before when I was trying to understand why I suddenly felt so much sadness in the midst of feeling peaceful: “It’s all Divine.” Right. I forgot. That’s the wisdom that keeps gently tapping me on the shoulder and whispering in my ear. God is in the thoughts and in the space between the thoughts, in the emotions and in the peace. There is no place where God is not. When I let go of judging and embrace my active mind and my sadness, I am at peace. Peace is always present within the soul’s silent awareness. The soul is quietly observing the Divine (itself) having the experience of being human, and there is no separation anywhere from that vantage point. It’s all human and Divine.

Each time my mind won’t settle down or I’m distracted by neighborhood noise during meditation now, I am remembering more and more easily: My spinning thoughts, the roaring garbage truck, and the water drops sparkling on the tree branches in the morning sun are all part of the same oneness. As I take deep breath after deep breath, I slowly relax into the inner peace that is awareness without attachment or judgment: It’s all just Divine….

Kindnesses, Great and Small

© 2012 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
© 2012 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist

Approaching the holiday season, people begin to think more about giving and sharing, about love and peace on earth. As our global consciousness expands deeper into oneness on this planet, physical gifts and material objects seem less important than gifts of the heart. December is a month to remind ourselves that giving love is a year-round practice beyond any holiday traditions.

How does a loving heart express itself in the world? Through kindness. Through small or large acts of caring that make a difference in someone else’s life. I find that it’s the love of friends and family that sustains and uplifts me on a daily basis. For example, a dear friend in California regularly sends me the publication Positive News, which features stories about positive change on the planet. The lives and activities of the individuals therein inspire and give me hope, but I am also moved by my friend’s kindness in faithfully sending me the newspaper because she knows I love it. It may not seem hugely significant, but it is small thoughtful actions like this one that make us feel cared for.

A telephone call, an email, a greeting card, or a kind word can make all the difference in someone’s day. The simple act of listening—to a friend or a stranger—is a wonderful gift. So many of us just want to be heard, to know that our lives are not invisible and unnoted in the world. We who live in or near cities have a tendency to shut down when we’re in public because we are bombarded with so many stimuli and people. I am guilty of this. I often retreat into my own mental sanctuary so that I’m not overwhelmed by the noise and frenetic activity around me. Recently, however, I find that if I ride the bus or walk down the street with an open heart and a smile on my face, then I experience my environment entirely differently. I see the beauty in the sky, in the city, and in people’s faces. My own smile is reflected in other’s smiles, and shared words become a blessing, not a burden.

Really, the greatest kindness you can show anyone is that of seeing their inner spirit. We interact with so many people during any given day—coworkers, bus drivers and passengers, cashiers, friends, family members—the list is endless. But do we take the time to really see each person? If you look beneath the surface presentation of self, there is a unique human spirit wanting to express itself. Perhaps no one else during the day has given them that chance. Be that person. Be fully present and truly see and appreciate the special individual you are interacting with. And don’t forget to include animals in your appreciation—they too have beautiful spirits that want to be seen!

Let kindness be your first impulse this holiday season and in the coming year. What you and I experience from others is what we ourselves feel in our hearts. It begins there. Loving-kindness is not just an idea or a Buddhist meditation practice. It is a way of being in the world. It is the living heart and soul of humankind.