The Names Within
One of the things that has changed in me
is falling in love with the universe.
And it’s hard to talk about that.
I am the cicada,
hidden beneath the earth,
waiting for the call of spring.
I am also the frost,
silencing its song before it begins.
I am the child in Ukraine,
huddled in a basement,
cold, hungry, and holding onto fear.
I am the arms manufacturer,
selling weapons to fuel the war.
I am the girl,
aching to find her father in his lover.
I am the father, blind to her pain,
unable to love her.
My joy is like spring,
so warm it coaxes flowers to bloom.
My sorrow is like rivers of tears,
so vast they fill the four oceans.
Call me by what I’ve lived,
so I can feel the weight of every scream and sigh—
so I can finally see myself whole
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Call me by my true names,
so I can awaken,
so the door of my heart can open—
the door of compassion.
Love knows no boundaries.
There is no “other.”
At the deepest level, there is only I.
We are merged,
woven together by all my names.
Since the day I met the Beloved,
I see with open eyes,
smiling, beholding beauty everywhere.
Whatever I see reminds me of Him.
Whatever I do becomes worship.
The rhythm of His music beats in my ears.
There are no boundaries, no separateness.
Don’t you see that everything is perfect?
Step back from your humanity for a moment.
Can you see the way of things—the Dao?
Everything is unfolding.
Do you have the courage to truly see?
Or does it seem to take away your humanity?
When someone falls before you,
do you whisper “karma” and close your heart?
There is no oneness in that.
Most close their hearts,
armoring them against suffering,
shielding with the mind—
a veil of thoughts to protect against the vastness of pain.
But the heart has no boundaries.
The heart will give everything.
The mind knows boundaries;
it builds the armor to keep the heart separate.
How do you keep your heart open and whole?
That is the work of compassion.
This life is the curriculum of the soul.
All suffering simply shows
where the mind still clings.
Stay in the illusion of polarity,
and you miss the richness behind it.