Let no one pride himself or herself on loving. But rather breathe in Love and breathe it out just as unconsciously and freely as you breathe in the air and breathe it out.
*Mikhail Naimy. The Book of Mirdad: The Strange Story of a Monastery which was Once Called The Ark.
It must be because he hates clogs on his moss I knocked ten times still his gate stayed closed but spring can't be kept locked inside a garden a branch of red blossoms reached past the wall
*Ye Shaoweng 葉紹翁 (fl. China 1200—1250). "Visiting a Private Garden Without Success." In Red Pine. Dancing with the Dead: The Essential Red Pine Translations.
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Red Pine comments the clogs, no longer worn in China, had two wooden ridges on the bottom. One ridge is for walking uphill, the other for downhill. He notes the red blossoms are likely of the apricot.
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Shaoweng goes for a visit, but he is kept out. Why? He does not know for sure but conjectures. Regardless of the reason, he is outside and remains so. Someone keeps him out. All he can do is knock. No reply.
We, like the poet, can feel left outside, not admitted in. We offer our presence, and there is no reciprocity. Connection with us is not welcome. The gate to the other's heart remains shut.
The other may play the role of welcome, feigning welcome or trying to invite us in but being unable, and we feel the outsideness; it cannot be hidden. Yet, too, we may sense through and beyond the unopened gate. The more you are drawn into your heart center, the more you can discern the response, including lack thereof, of others to you.
How much of the everyday social interactions are an appearance of welcome? What does it feel like when you meet someone you have never met and feel the gate opens to you? Have you met someone who seems to live with their heart-gate open to all? Have you ever walked into a group or community setting and felt you were not welcome, and you did not know why? What do you feel like when you feel your heart open and connect with another person or being?
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Spring cannot be kept outside; spring cannot be kept inside a garden. Red blossoms over the wall testify to this. Spring does not need an open gate. Spring is inside and outside the garden.
Can we live like spring? Can we nurture a place within ourselves that allows us to be inside, whether the gate opens or not? Whether someone responds to our knock - our welcoming presence - or not?
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The heart's nature is welcoming presence. This presence naturally reaches out to meet the welcoming presence within the other. We find fulfillment in this way, and wholeness arises. We discover there is only one welcoming presence seeking connections with itself. That of the other is that of you.
This welcoming is pictured in a beautiful Christian scripture, showing Jesus knocking at a door. Revelation 3.20 reads, "Hey! I stand at the door knocking. If anyone [not those like me, agreeing with me, liking me, of my religion or race or anything...] hears my voice [calling] opens the door, I will enter and enjoy a meal with that one, and that one with me" (Revelation 3.20).
Here, as with us, love does not barge in. Love responds. We respect another's choice not to invite us in. We can respect like this because we no longer crave attention and affection.
The welcome given to us is a gift. If not given, that is okay. Love loves anyway, for it can do no other. Love can walk away without walking away from its fidelity to itself, which means it cannot be untrue to itself. Love does not love from necessity but from its freedom to love, as the red blossoms freely extend over the wall, for that is what red blossoms do.
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Our true nature is like what the poet pictures for us. You can feel at home with open or closed gates when you become welcome. Becoming welcome means returning to your heart. One may expect others to open the heart-gate of their heart while not opening their own heart-gate to welcome themselves. Reciprocity occurs when an open gate meets an open gate. Then, flow occurs. Then, a mingling happens. Oneness enjoys unity.
This essential spring does not mean we will never feel lonely or left outside. But that is a passing feeling. Knowing the springtime of our true nature, we can accept the fleeting sense of being unwelcome and return to an at-homeness within, meaning within for right here, now. Home has never gone anywhere, and it goes with us. Why? We are that home. Align with your deep heart, and you return home.
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*(C) Brian K. Wilcox, 2024. Permission is given to use photographs and writings with credit given to the copyright owner.
*Brian's book is An Ache for Union: Poems on Oneness with God through Love. The book is a collection of poems Brian wrote based on wisdom traditions, predominantly Christian, Buddhist, and Sufi, with extensive notes on the poetry's teachings and imagery.
