Hail Rahu!
Greetings, friends!
Today is another day, and yesterday I wrote something.
Enjoy!
xo,
Amanda
“Hail Rahu”
What do the people want?
MORE!
…or less.
I am pulled in all directions,
from all directions
in a moment before I forget: God.
This moment, and this one, and another, such purposeful, intentional focus
while the breeze blows the curtains and my dog watches cars drive by,
and then another
moment of meditation
yet not self-negation
for all things work towards the good,
like looking for a parking spot or wondering if we’ll get a table when we go out for dinner,
in all things prayer and supplication
and self-denial, like a door man
or a lightening rod,
would that it could be so easy to be profound like Shakespeare, so able like Arjuna, so legendary as the yeti.
Am I in-and-out of dimensions, releasing identification,
yet the ant crawled under the rock, and I almost shed a tear for the beauty of this moment.
To live or die in any moment, to create or to destroy,
to contain everything and digest contradictions
when all I’m really doing is praying and grinding away, working every angle, pushing forward in whatever-the-yuga, however dense reality may seem. I move forward, strengthened by the resistance and realizing all is Divine, even when I create with my words or pray for forgiveness for speaking ill, wondering how jokes work metaphysically - is it a curse or am I just kidding?
How harsh reality must seem if I continually look outward? And yet, all is Divine, even the flies I’d almost hate to acknowledge, yet I’m never overwhelmed: God never gives us more than we can handle, but didn’t I do this all to myself?
When the extreme necessity is acknowledged, I’m reminded to return to meditation: Ram. Ram. Ram.
Oh but God I could still keep going; I’m not yet exhausted, but what am I really, besides the obvious and subtle, besides the gross and minute; besides thinking too much or identifying with thinking.
I am the ignition, the engine revving. I am at peace and the space between boredoms. Oh God, I want to kill these flies, but really what’s the difference: to limit the strong and defend the weak? The real test begins when I’m confronted: How to take action given what I believe? Wouldn’t it be easier to be an aesthetic, won’t you allow me, oh God, to do what is best?
Yet here I am, Beelzebub watching closely and Rahu ruling the hour.
Lord have mercy, and Saturn bring restriction.
What’s the point of anything, but for God’s glory?
All things work towards the good.
How controversial the truth does seem in a world that’s ruled by lies, rooted in imbalance. The mysteries aren’t lost; you are, and neither are you.
