~The River~ by Herman Hesse

I am only a ferryman and it is my task to take people across this river. I have taken thousands of people across and to all of them my river has been nothing but a hindrance on their journey. They have travelled for money and business, to weddings and on pilgrimages; the river has been in their way and the ferryman was there to take them quickly across the obstacle. However, amongst the thousands there have been a few, four of five, to whom the river was not a obstacle. They have heard its voice and listened to it, and the river has become holy to them, as it has to me. "Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.

Looking at you

              Oh God !
May every thing,every detail,they see in me....is as sacred and as deep ....as....gazing at your divine form
       .........  ~◆~ ..........

"Har ek sonni cheez wi adyeya

Teri wargi kyon lagdi hai.....? ¿"

..........

Her Beloved ~

cried out aloud to god....

as 

He' ~

gazed at....

Her' ~

~ My veil is stained ~

Manawa mein mere aandhi hai uthi ~

~A storm has risen inside my heart...I surge towards you, spell bound in your love.~
bas stubdh khadi hoon main ~and I am stunned~
Saanson mein baandh apani hi saan

~My breath is stuck within~
nishabd khadi hoon main:

~I am standing speechless~
Duniya se jeeti jeeti, khud se haari 

~I have won from the world, but lost to myself~
bas dhwast khadi hoon mein:(I am just standing shattered)

Aaina main aur aks main 

~I am the mirror and the reflection~

madmast khadi hoon main

~I am standing intoxicated~
Laaga chunari mein daag chhupaau kaise 

~How do I hide the stain on my veil~
Laaga chunari mein daag

 ~My veil is stained~
chunari mein daag chhupaau kaise 

~How do I hide the stain on my veil~
Ghar jaanu kaise

~How do I go home~
Cham, cham cham cham chamchawaat

~Its shining, sparking and reflecting~
antar mein gunje divas raat

~The pain is echoing inside me day and night~
Ek shunya shunya kapti vishal ~A zero and huge deceit~
maaya ka madhyam mantra jaal ~A moderate magical net of delusion~
Mann ki dasha se ladati main phirati 

~I have fought with the state of my heart~
vishwast khadi hoon main

~Still I am standing for sure~
Mari laaj main hoon, chunar bhi main hoon

~I am in great shame, and I am the veil~
chunar pe daag bhi main

~There is a stain on the veil~
Ho gayi maili mori chunariya

~There is lots of dirt on my veil~
kore badan si kori chunariya 

~The veil as untouched as my body~
Jaake baabul se nazarein milaau kaise

~How do I go home and look into the eyes of my father~

ghar jaau kaise

~How do I go home~
Main dhwast dhwast, main nasht pasht

~I am ravaged and destroyed, I am robbed and ruined ~of my honour~

main saral wirral, main ati vishishta

~I am simple greatly, I am precious~
Main shyam shwet, badal mein ret

~I am the dark and white, I am the rippling sand in the sky~
Nirajhar si jhari hoon main

~I am the rain that cannot pour down~
Andhiyaari raat, deepak main baati 

~A dark night, and a wick in the lamp~
Swapnil si khadi hoon main

~I am standing as if I am in a dream~
Kanchan ki kaaya apna hai saaya

~A body as brittle as a glass, and my own shadow~
Bas khud se dari hoon main

~I am just afraid of myself~
Lakdi mein geeti, thodi seeli seeli ~A song in the firewood, that is burning but hidden~
Tham tham ke jalli hoon main

~I have burned in intervals~
Main maaya maaya, main chhaaya chhaaya

~I am the delusion, I am the shadow~
Aatma aur kaaya main

~I am the soul and the body~
Nistubdh khadi hoon main, nishabd khadi hoon main~I am standing speechless~
Vishwast khadi hoon mein

~I am standing for sure~

And that stain on my being i said... He gazed into moi eyes and kissed it....It softly.... gently .... faded into oblivion...he gently whispered into my soul....how can it dare "face" your inner brilliance moi dear...look at me...even I surge towards you, spell bound in your love.....He whom they worship day and night....sits spellbound in your simple love...seeing the Radha and Meera ...

~merge ~ 

and 

Re~

Emerge~

~

....within same breath......

I wait with tears too....to see you dissolve within...

I....

K

E

P

T

Dissolving.....

And~

As i dissolved in the void of his light....

With a start....

I woke up....

it was in a deep yog nidra...

i was dreaming...

about this celestial presence....
A book lay in moi lap....i run moi eyes lazily at the lines on the page.....it was  a book by Henry Rollins.....Words....they stood up...as if they wanted to reach out to moi ...lest i wudnt notice....

I started running moi fingers around them....
"The moon will never lie to anyone. Be like the moon. No one hates the moon or wants to kill it. The moon does not take antidepressants and never gets sent to prison. The moon never shot a guy in the face and ran away. The moon has been around a long time and has never tried to rip anyone off. The moon does not care who you want to touch or what color you are. The moon treats everyone the same. The moon never tries to get in on the guest list or use your name to impress others. Be like the moon. When others insult or belittle in an attempt to elevate themselves, the moon sits passively and watches, never lowering itself to anything that weak. The moon is beautiful and bright. It needs no makeup to look beautiful. The moon never shoves clouds out of its way so it can be seen. The moon needs not fame or money to be powerful. The moon never asks you to go to war to defend it. Be like the moon.

”Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds……"

John O'Donohue Quotes

When we belong, we have an outside mooring to prevent us from falling into ourselves.
~
Our hunger to belong is the longing to find a bridge across the distance from isolation to intimacy.

Transience is the force of time that makes a ghost of every experience. There was never a dawn, regardless how beautiful or promising, that did not grow into a noontime. There was never a noon that did not fall into afternoon. There was never an afternoon that did not fade toward evening. There never was a day yet that did not get buried in the graveyard of the night. In this way transience makes a ghost out of everything that happens to us.

Beauty enjoys a profound and ancient autonomy. True beauty is from elsewhere, a pure gift. It cannot be programmed nor its arrival foreseen. It never falls simply into the old patterns of what is already there nor is it frivolous or burdened with leaden solemnity. Frequently, beauty is playful like dancing sunlight, it cannot be predicted, and in the most unlikely scene or situation can suddenly emerge. This spontaneity and playfulness often subverts our self-importance and throws our plans and intentions into disarray. Without intending it, we find ourselves coming alive in a sense of celebration and delight. The pedestrian sequence of a working day breaks, a new door opens and the heart recognizes the silent majesty of the ordinary. The things we never notice, like health, friends and love, emerge from their subdued presence and stand out in their true radiance as gifts we 

could never have earned or achieved.

John O'Donohue Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong.

No one else can confer dignity on you; it is something that comes from within. You cannot fake it or acquire it as you would an accent. You can only receive the gift of dignity from your own heart. When you learn to embrace your self with a sense of appreciation and affection, you begin to glimpse the goodness and light that is in you, and gradually you will realize that you are worthy of respect from yourself. When you recognize your limits, but still embrace your life with affection and graciousness, the sense of inner dignity begins to grow. You become freer and less dependent on the affirmations of outer voices and less troubled by the negativity of others. Now you know that no one has the right to tarnish the image that you have of yourself....Even in compromising and demeaning situations, you can still hold your sense of dignity. At such times your sense of dignity will keep a space of tranquility about you. In the Third World, one is often struck by the immense dignity of the poor. Even hunger and oppression cannot rob them of this grace of spirit. If you do not give it away, no event, situation, or person can take your dignity away from you. The different styles of presence reveal how we belong to ourselves.
~
Prayer is the act and presence of sending this light from the bountifulness of your love to other people to heal, free, and bless them. Where there is love in your life, you should share it spiritually with those who are pushed to the very edge of life. There is a very lovely idea in the Celtic tradition that if you send goodness out from yourself, it will come back to you multiplied ten thousand times. In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have.
~

Every friendship travels at sometime through the black valley of despair. This tests every aspect of your affection. You lose the attraction and the magic. Your sense of each other darkens and your presence is sore. If you can come through this time, it can purify with your love, and falsity and need will fall away. It will bring you onto new ground where affection can grow again."
~

The human face carries mystery and is the exposure point of the mystery of the individual life. It is where the private inner world of a person protrudes into the anonymous world. While the rest of the body is covered, the face is naked. The vulnerability of this nakedness issues a profound invitation for understanding and compassion. The human face is a meeting place for two unknowns: the infinity of the outer world and the unchartered, inner world to which each individual alone has access. This is the night world that lies behind the brightness of the visage. The smile on a face is a surprise or illumination. When the smile crosses the face, it is as if the inner night of this hidden world brightens suddenly. Heidegger said very beautifully that we are custodians of deep and ancient thresholds. In the human face you see that potential and the miracle of undying possibility.

~John O'Donohue~
(Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom)

To Receive Each Day As An Invitation~by John O’Donohue~

The liturgy of dawn signals the wonder of the arriving day. Magic of darkness breaking through into color and light is such a promise of invitation and possibility. No wonder we always associate the hope and urgency of new beginning with the dawn. Each day is the field of brightness where the invitation of our life unfolds. A new day is an intricate and subtle matrix; written into its mystery are the happenings sent to awaken and challenge us.
No day is ever the same, and no day stands still; each one moves through a different territory, awakening new beginnings. A day moves forward in moments, and once a moment has flickered into life, it vanishes and is replaced by the next. It is fascinating that this is where we live, within an emerging lacework that continually unravels. Often a fleeting moment can hold a whole sequence of the future in distilled form: that unprepared second when you looked in a parent’s eye and saw death already beginning to loom. Or the second you noticed a softening in someone’s voice and you knew that a friendship was beginning. Or catching your partner’s gaze upon you and knowing the love that surrounded you. Each day is seeded with recognitions.

~For Love in a Time of Conflict~By John O’Donohue

When the gentleness between you hardens
And you fall out of your belonging with each other,
May the depths you have reached hold you still.
When no true word can be said, or heard,
And you mirror each other in the script of hurt,
When even the silence has become raw and torn,
May you hear again an echo of your first music.
When the weave of affection starts to unravel
And anger begins to sear the ground between you,
Before this weather of grief invites
The black seed of bitterness to find root,
May your souls come to kiss.
Now is the time for one of you to be gracious,
To allow a kindness beyond thought and hurt,
Reach out with sure hands
To take the chalice of your love,
And carry it carefully through this echoless waste
Until this winter pilgrimage leads you
Towards the gateway to spring.
(From Benedictus A Book of Blessings, John O’Donohue)

"Buoyancy"By ~ Rumi ~

Love has taken away my practices
and filled me with poetry.
I tried to keep quietly repeating,
No strength but yours ,
but I couldn’t.
I had to clap and sing.
I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
But who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?
A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself.
That’s how I hold your voice.
I am scrap wood thrown in your fire,
and quickly reduced to smoke.
I saw you and became empty.
This emptiness, more beautiful than existence,
it obliterates existence, and yet when it comes,
existence thrives and creates more existence!
The sky is blue. The world is a blind man
squatting on the road.
But whoever sees your emptiness
sees beyond blue and beyond the blind man.
A great soul hides like Muhammad, or Jesus,
moving through a crowd in a city
where no one knows him.
To praise is to praise
how one surrenders
to the emptiness.
To praise the sun is to praise your own eyes.
Praise, the ocean. What we say, a little ship.
So the sea-journey goes on, and who knows where!
Just to be held by the ocean is the best luck
we could have. It’s a total waking up!
Why should we grieve that we’ve been sleeping?
It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been unconscious.
We’re groggy, but let the guilt go.
Feel the motions of tenderness
around you, the buoyancy.

Anthem~by Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be….
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
~ Leonard Cohen ~

~Joy is Entering the River~by Ghalib

For the raindrop, joy is in entering the river –
Unbearable pain becomes its own cure.
Travel far enough into sorrow, tears turn to sighing;
In this way we learn how water can die into air.
When, after heavy rain, the stormclouds disperse,
Is it not that they’ve wept themselves clear to the end?
If you want to know the miracle, how wind can polish
a mirror,
Look~the shining glass grows green in spring.
It’s the rose’s unfolding, Ghalib, that creates the desire to see-
In every color and circumstance, may the eyes be open for what comes.

~Only One Rule~by Hafiz

Only One Rule
The sky
Is a suspended blue ocean.
The stars are the fish that swim.
The planets are the white whales I sometimes
Hitch a ride
On,
The sun and all light
Have forever fused themselves into my heart
And upon my
Skin.
There is only one rule on this Wild Playground,
Every sign Hafiz has ever seen
Reads the same.
They all say,
“Have fun, my dear; my dear, have fun,
In the Beloved’s divine
Game,
O, in the Beloved’s
Wonderful
Game.”

Sculptor Sylvia Plath For Leonard Baskin

To his house the bodiless
Come to barter endlessly
Vision, wisdom, for bodies
Palpable as his, and weighty.
Hands moving move priestlier
Than priest's hands, invoke no vain
Images of light and air
But sure stations in bronze, wood, stone.
Obdurate, in dense-grained wood,
A bald angel blocks and shapes
The flimsy light; arms folded
Watches his cumbrous world eclipse
Inane worlds of wind and cloud.
Bronze dead dominate the floor,
Resistive, ruddy-bodied,
Dwarfing us. Our bodies flicker
Toward extinction in those eyes
Which, without him, were beggared
Of place, time, and their bodies.
Emulous spirits make discord,
Try entry, enter nightmares
Until his chisel bequeaths
Them life livelier than ours,
A solider repose than death's.

A Prayer for my Daughter【W. B.Yeats】(1865-1939)

Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on.  There is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind,
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream
In the elms above the flooded stream;
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger's eye distraught,
Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right, and never find a friend.
Helen being chosen found life flat and dull
And later had much trouble from a fool,
While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray,
Being fatherless could have her way
Yet chose a bandy-leggèd smith for man.
It's certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat
Whereby the Horn of Plenty is undone.
In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful;
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty's very self, has charm made wise,
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.
My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If there's no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.
An intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed.
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of Plenty's horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?
Considering that, all hatred driven hence,
The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl
Or every bellows burst, be happy still.
And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all's accustomed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and hatred are the wares
Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How but in custom and in ceremony
Are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremony's a name for the rich horn,
And custom for the spreading laurel tree.

My Love

When everyone is trying to be something,be nothing....
Range with emptiness
....my .....
~£ove~

THE ~ VOID ~

The ~THINGS~ that are ...
        

         PRESENT

Through ~THEIR ~

        ~ABSENCE~

Sacred Tears ~

There must be something strangely sacred about salt.It is in our tears and in the sea....
~ Khalil Gibran ~

Alone

some people are so deep

you fall into them

and you never stop falling.....

       ~◆~

“ i took a night drive.

i needed to get away.

i needed to know

it's okay to go

and have no destination,

where time moves slow

or doesn't exist.

that life can be like this,

aimless wandering,

just breathing,

living,

driving forever underneath the stars.

          ~◆~

i sometimes think i'm too in love with alone. who could i love more than this peace?

      ~◆~  ~ i am like the moon ~

sometimes, full.

sometimes, black.

 sometimes,

forever and ever alone....

~Ava~

finding your sacred place

"If you follow the crowd, you will likely get no further than the crowd. If you walk alone, you're likely to end up in places no one has ever been before. Being an achiever is not without its difficulties, for peculiarity breeds contempt. The unfortunate thing about being ahead of your time is that when people finally realize you were right, they'll simply say it was obvious to everyone all along. You have two choices in life. You can dissolve into the main stream, or you can choose to become an achiever and be distinct. To be distinct, you must be different. To be different, you must strive to be what no else but you can be."

~Alan Ashley Pitt~  “When you follow the crowd you lose yourself, but when you follow your soul you will lose the crowd. Eventually your soul tribe will appear. But do not fear the process of solitude.” 

~ Unknown~

~Rumi~

You have seen the sun set, so watch it rise.
Does setting bring any harm to the sun or moon?
What seed ever fell to the ground without growing?
Why doubt that the seed of man will grow when it is sown?
You think I have been lowered into the ground, don’t you?
But under my feet are the seven skies.
In this ocean, there is no dying for us.
In this ocean, there is no grief, no mourning.
In this ocean there is all the love you can accept.
This is an ocean of goodness and generosity.
Lay down your you-ness and come,
let me lay down my I-ness and come
Let us meet in the ONE, and dive into the river of truths.
This river, holding whatever is good and beautiful.
(Rumi)

The art of Dying....well !

Buddhists call these three ‘the messengers of God’: old age, sickness, death — three messengers of God. Why? — because only through these experiences in life do you become aware of death. And if you become aware of death and you start learning how to go into it, how to welcome it, how to receive it, you are released from the bondage, from the wheel of life and death.
(Osho)
Death is different from what
Anyone knows, and luckier
(Walt Whitman from ‘Song of Myself’)
Life and death are one — one phenomenon, one energy. Life is the manifestation of that energy, and death is again relaxation. Life is coming to a form, and death is moving again into the formless. The end and the beginning meet. Life is not separate from death, death is not separate from life — they meet and mingle. Even to say they meet is not right because the mind immediately brings: “If there is a meeting then there must be two.” It is not a meeting, it is one phenomenon.
(Osho)
We do not know where death awaits us: so let us wait for it everywhere. To practise death is to practise freedom. A man who has learned how to die has unlearned how to be a slave.
(Montaigne)
Whenever anybody dies anywhere, death knocks at your doors too. And not only a human being: a dog dies, a crow dies, or a leaf becomes pale and dies and drops from the tree – you are dying, because we are involved in each other, we are parts of each other, we are members of each other.
(Osho)
Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.
I have sent up my gladness on wings, to be lost in the blue of the sky.
I have run and leaped with the rain, I have taken the wind to my breast.
My cheek like a drowsy child to the face of the earth I have pressed.
Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. ….
Whoever rightly understands and celebrates death, at
the same time magnifies life.
(Rainer Maria Rilke)
This life is going to end in a few days, or in a few years. It is not something to cling to. Each moment death is coming closer; before death grabs you, you have to figure out something which is eternal, which is immortal.It seems obvious that death is the end of life; that is not true. Death is only a beginning of a new life — a refreshment, a rejuvenation. The old body is tired. You need more experiences to become mature. You have to move through many other forms of life, and there are millions of forms of life.
Death can be sweet if you move from one body, one existence, one form, with pure awareness into another and higher. Then it is sweet, really sweet.When you encounter death, when you see it face to face, when you don’t avoid, when you don’t dodge, when you don’t escape, when you don’t create a cloud around you, when you face it, encounter it, the fact of death,suddenly you become aware that death is life. The deeper you move into death, the deeper you move in life because, Heraclitus says,the opposites meet and mingle, they are one.Death makes one understand fear, but it is not the death of somebody else, it is your own death, and that too with the condition that you are conscious.
(Osho)
What is dying?
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades from the horizon,
And someone at my side says, “She is gone!” Gone where?
Gone from my sight, that is all;
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her,
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her;
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “She is gone,”
There are others who are watching her coming,
And other voices take up a glad shout,
“There she comes” – and that is dying.
("The Sailing Ship"’
Bishop Charles Henry Brent)

Friend, hope for the guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive.
Think … and think … while you are alive.
What you call “salvation” belongs to the time before death.
If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive,
do you think
ghosts will do it after?
The idea that the soul will rejoin with the ecstatic
Just because the body is rotten –
That is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
You will simply end up with an apartment in the
City of Death.
If you make love with the divine now, in the next
Life you will have the face of satisfied desire.
So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is.
Believe in the Great Sound!
Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,
It is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that
Does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.
(Kabir ‘The Time Before Death’)

There’s no decision in death. People who know that there’s no hope are free. The decision’s out of their hands. It has always been that way, but some people have to die bodily to find out. No wonder they smile on their death beds. Dying is something they were looking for in life. Their delusion of being in charge is over. When there’s no choice there’s no fear. And in that, there is peace. They realise that they’re home and that they’ve never left.
(Byron Katie)
And if, in the changing phases of man’s life
I fall in sickness and misery
My wrists seem broken and my heart seems dead
And strength is gone, and my life
Is only the leavings of a life:
And still, among it all, snatches of lovely oblivion, and snatches of renewal
odd, wintry flowers upon the withered stem, yet new, strange flowers
such as my life has not brought forth before, new blossoms of me —
then I must know that still
I am in the hands of the unknown God,
He is breaking me down to his own oblivion
to send me forth on a new morning, a new man.
(DH Lawrence (from a poem he wrote as he was dying)
When your time comes to die, be not like those
whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray
for a little more time to live their lives over again
in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
(The Teaching of Tecumseh)
Give us strength. Strength to hold on
and strength to let go.
(Michael Leunig)
In trying to avoid death, one goes on missing life.
Live life! In living life, death is avoided.
You welcome death. And unless you can welcome death, (please close space between this and next line)
one thing is certain – you have not lived.
(Osho)
Death and love go together; they are aspects of the same energy. When death fulfills your love, and when in love you are ready to die – when they have the same taste and the same flavour – then for the first time you have really become aware of the mysteries of life, love and death.
(Osho The Revolution)
Until we know that death is as good as life, and that it always comes at just the right time, we’re going to take on the role of God without the awareness of it, and it’s always going to hurt. Whenever you mentally oppose what is, you’re going to experience sadness and apparent separation. There’s no sadness without a story. What is it. You are it.
(Byron Katie)