It’s 5 am, and the sky is still dark. Outside it’s -27F, mid-January, and the house is chilly. I am kneeling on my meditation bench in our home’s shrine corner, the cozy place under the eaves where we meditate and pray every morning. I wrap my dark red wool shawl over my flannel pajamas. Kim lights the candle. The bell rings. I breathe slowly and relax.
This morning I choose to give up the version of reality I’ve always accepted. I choose to exist in a different reality.
My awareness slowly relaxes. Today, now, I am the unity. I am the One. I may not know this word, but once I am in it, I will remember because I have always known it.
My body drops away, empty like a shadow, as soft as knitted lace, like the shadow that Peter Pan tries to sew back on his foot. This body, this shadow is a little bit heavy and it glows with life. I let it drop away and step out. It lies in a warm little pile like an old shirt I just dropped on the bathroom floor.
I am in my light body now and the physical body is tiny. I laugh when I realize how the tiny worries of that life—debts, plane flights, insurance, cancer cells, friendships, houses—have collapsed too. I can pick them all up later with my body, if I choose to.
Instead, I am the One. Here and now, the sense of massive power, comfort and utter safety replaces what I thought was me. The joy alone is larger than anything I knew was possible. I could never have imagined joy like this.
This is the place of miracles. This is the place where death of the body, sensations of the body, cancer cells and pain have no reality. They are not. Loneliness and grief are not. Death is not.
In the One, power supports me like a burly father carrying a tiny baby. I relax into the soft strength as if I were floating in warm water that knows me and cherishes me and thinks I am delicious.
The kindness, the safety, the caring are obvious. I rest here. I relax completely, letting the strong soft energy absorb me completely.
No end or limits can happen. There is a deep pulse, like huge gentle waves that softly lap a distant shore.
I thought I knew about limits and what was possible. I realize I knew nothing at all. My small mind, linked to the body that I dropped, can only dream up small plans and small limits. That body is born and dies, but I do not. As the One, I have no beginning and no end, no birth, no death, no stop, no start, no better, no worse.
I smile at myself in indulgent love as I see how my little plans were too small to hold what is real. I forget my ideas of what I thought would be good. I let go of every idea of what is possible.
Instead I rest in the safety. I don’t have to worry or plan. All I have to do is float here. I am the One. We are One. There is no you or me. No they.
I am kindness. I am joy. I am unlimited possibility. I am endless.
It comes to me that I was born woman so that this would be easier for me. There is a similarity to nursing a baby and a similarity to being beauty.
Without effort, music is also in this place. No concrete thought but a movement that is both beauty and is lovely enough to tempt our tired being out of worry.
I rest in the utter safety. We are One now. This is real.
The bell chimes. Slowly I come back to kneeling and the candle. I look around for my little pile of physical body. Its beauty and warmth call to me, and I slip it back on like an old sweater.
I wear it now but I will not always wear it.
I am a bell myself, a gong that rings with this lifetime. I am the sound of the bell.
Always, always I hold the knowledge that my real life is the One.
Even now that I am in this body again, I am the One.
So I am safe forever.
Thanks be to the One.
–by Jean Gendreau
copyright 2015 by Jean E. Gendreau