John Pursch lives in Tucson, Arizona. Twice nominated for Best of
the Net, his work has appeared in many literary journals. His first
book, Intunesia, is available at http://www.lulu.com/
Our True Self
There is a certain tendency, an
urge, to rush about and off and here and there on our own two feet as though we
knew what the hell we were doing, meant to do, must do. How foolish. Simply
put, yes, we have a purpose, but no, it is not within our power or intelligence
or imagination to state, to know, to determine the nature of this destiny. We
can only get out of the way, vacate, submit, and be transformed into a willing
vessel, a vehicle, a receptacle, a conduit of love. Any other action begins the
descent into the delusion of separateness, the pitfall of duality in the face
of the mystery of timeless unity. Miraculously, we can be here now in unison
with unborn and undying truth and love. The path is total surrender, complete
emptying, unceasing release. It is just this moment, the scratch of pen, the
gentle stir of breeze, easy breath of life, hand on forehead, softly closing
eyes, silence of cathedral hall, steady air-conditioned hum, smell of candles
long extinguished; ever so subtle glacial recognition and realization of the
simple nature of our true self.
We are what we are.
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