I sense Death the same way I feel night approach day. It lingers beneath the layers of trivial disputes and pursuits, grounding me in bittersweet appreciation: my time in the corporeal world will prove instantaneous. Time slips away like unrooted soil in rain, with no mercy towards youth. My mortal terror does not necessarily arise from a fear of being nothing, nor from an anxiety of not existing; rather, the idea that I will not accomplish or fulfill my purpose, mission, and destiny in this breve of gravity and light plagues the core of my being. Time, oh how Time does limit the dreams of an amateur heart and mind. Yet still, I believe there is enough time...
The summer before I departed the West coast for a university experience, I dabbled more regularly and seriously in the ways of meditation and prayer. The void of shallow hedonism and self-detest tasted sickly sweet, lingering like aspartame on the back of my tongue. I wanted my life to have meaning; luminous, ringing meaning that permeates the cells of my being and exudes as melting hues of purposeful and conscious love. But how?
It was an afternoon early in July; the fog ebbed in from the sea with its billowing thick face silently filling the valley; gray waves in slow motion creeping up the blonde hills and scattering pockets of sunlight. The wind forewarned me of the approaching foggy siege, blowing grassy wisps of bang across my eyes. I pulled the mane into a bouncy ponytail and tightened my sneakers. The steep hill across the way beckoned me up its slope of dancing orange poppies and tall tickling hay. I climbed with steady feet, plodding and intermittently stopping to gaze at the dizzying highway of cars and squat cream buildings below. I reached the top of the hill gawking past the clustered neighborhoods and miniature looking houses into the blinding white sun. A large stone with tufts of turquoise moss and a smooth curve offered its lap as a seat for me. I crossed my legs and fit my butt into the groove, basking in the scattered particles of yawning light.
The awe of Beauty drew tears from the edge of my eye. I closed my lids and asked Creator-Love for meditative relaxation, praying for awareness and discernment of whatever lesson or messages the Universe would bestow upon me. My breathing synchronized into rhythmic inhales and releases. The muscles of my mind and body felt restful. Suddenly, a statement popped into the cluttered bowl of my mind. The words arose as lightning from a widening celestial expanse in my heart, ascending through the canyons of brain tissue and light-bulb reactions of neurotransmitters, until the prayer bubbled from my stuttering lips. The words spread ubiquitously throughout my spaces of thought, causing a welling of ecstatic delight in the center of my chest; I whispered into clasped palms, “I humbly pray to be the full embodiment of Almighty Love.” I repeated the words again. Then louder. I hallooed into the valley, hurling the words into the atmosphere and absorbing the expounding joy of each consonant and vowel.
I began to understand what I am––what we are. Insights poured from the sky, seeping into every sinew, dripping down my spine, down my throat, through my veins, and to the tips of my toes. Comfort wrapped herself around my ankles and eased my furrowed forehead with tender fingers, massaging open channels of chi. I galloped, leaped, and skipped down the spine-like trail, burning with a need to write––to write it all down, every flickering word. I scrambled through my CD and receipt littered car, uncovering a pen and brown napkin. I repeated the words: I humbly pray to be the full embodiment of Divine Love. I paused, searched, and begged for greater comprehension. My pen scribbled words of explanation with a quivering hand: You have the potential to be the full embodiment of love–True Beauty–to be human is to be heaven and earth in communion. I sat back in the driver’s seat and smiled with a sense of growth I had never so acutely experienced before.
The prayer catalyzed movement in me; movement inciting enhanced awareness of who I am. Maturity is a process of authentication. As we mature we become more conscious of various aspect of ourselves. Cosmic Consciousness unveiled an integral part of myself that summer afternoon. My raw, throbbing core had craved spiritual development; I yearned for deeper intimacy and closeness with Heaven, and in the authentic seeking my prayer, my plea, was answered. I realized it was my responsibility to discover my true self, accept my purposes in life, and practice being the full embodiment of Divine Love, taking responsibility in my relationship with Heaven just as in any other relationship. I must step into the words. I must howl like the O’s and stick like the D's. I must breathe them into fruition, and vibrate them into life with my humble human gyration: that is my choice, to step or not to step; to be accountable or to be a coward.
WE have a purpose–just as the furry bumble bee pollenates flowers and contributes to his Hive, you have a purpose in progressing the Divine Plan–as an individual part of the Whole. Until we take responsibility for our role in the world we inhabit, we will remain confused, aimless, underdeveloped, and immature. Every heavenly mission is tailored to your unique destiny, the qualities of your unique spirit, providing the lessons you need in your individual spiritual progression, as a divine instrument and unique self. The process of self-actualization occurs as we mature from ignorance to illumination, accepting each evanescent moment as an opportunity for transformative growth and responsible agency, taking each moment as a creative moment of spiritual development. Self-exploration reveals your purpose and meaning: mediation and prayer assist as torch and flame in this journey of micro and meta revelation, spiraling upwards, arising and transcending into a greater sense of life, into a purer existence of love.