'They love me'

Meditating one morning last week, these simple words came to me: "They love me and I love them." The phone rang, my brother was calling to send love. He said every call he'd been making was ending up with an expression of mutual love. I opened the e-mail, and a fellow seeker had written, "Yes, aware and constantly reminded in every situation and with each person in front of me that it's all about Love. It centers me immediately, makes me alert to listen and experience the Presence."

God is constantly dropping us hints like snowflakes, and this was a whiteout! While "They love me and I love them" sounded childlike, I realized there had to be lessons to savor. Part of the message: Like everyone else, I poured out, whether money, forgiveness, service, recognition or friendship. Then I finally reached a deeper Place of doing a kindness without any thought of return. Yet sometimes I'm still afraid of being rebuffed: Will my good actions be misunderstood? In that deeper Place, it doesn't matter. But at a still more profound level, my trepidation isn't selfish, for there are instructive responses to my every action, even my trepidation, showing that God is here.

So if we start with "They love me," we are seeing that this person or situation in front of me is already God appearing. No matter what the picture, there is no other. We don't have to make it so; just relax, let it in. Even if someone wrestles with us, they bless us, for it's a spiritual work to reconcile with our brother. Then there's no "evil," which could enter this Reality that we're touching.

So we see that our outpouring was all along, the whole time, a response to this succoring embrace, which is carrying us all along, the whole way. We begin by receiving Love. When we feel perfect Love, unconditional love for someone else, this Love we're feeling is itself the influx of God's Love for us. Feeling gratitude, a gift that we're giving another, is also a living gift of Love to ourselves. We may have started on our spiritual journey from a desire to help everyone. Then we find we've always been receiving, that we ourselves are getting the help. So in compassion (which is "bearing it up together") we aren't a giver, we're partaking of a feast with our friend.

Beloved, the encounters of this day are meaningful and artistic in every detail, like our favorite movie. This day has a surface level, and there are also planes of myth and of transcendent spirit. When we pick up the phone, it snuggles up against our face, while we're connected to an invisible life that can be crossing thousands of miles. Just so, we're always operating in all these realms that reach so broadly, whether we're aware of it or not. So it's not that hard, it's only natural, for us to consciously dip into these spaces where we're active now anyway. There's a kind of blending of meditation and meditation-in-action, a granola of dreaming and companionship, of rest and running to do good, of laughter and quiet glow, of prayer and cleaning house.

Love is the sweet ingredient permeating all our meetings this day. The simplest feeling of closeness is an outbreak of divinity. Every part of myself, every nook of my body or thought of my mind, is a sacred Other that I can cherish and honor with total tenderness and trust. Then I can find holy connections in every sort of joining, weaving through my family, between everyone I bump into, between all peoples, between humans and nature, between this world of visions and its invisible Source — all ringing variations on one single song.

An ever greater love is a branching tree, embodying glory unto glory. We learn, things aren't "things," they're wondrous Love. Beauty is love, abundance is love, pleasure is love, fearlessness and freedom and unboundedness are love, even our problems are love. Peace, love and joy.

Moshe Ross lives and teaches in Ashland. His book, Really Being With You, is available at Bloomsbury Books and Soundpeace

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