Bliss
I don't know much about bliss. It hasn't been in my experience often. In the years I was sitting in Buddhist retreats, I recall only one retreat in which I experienced an ease that I guessed was close to bliss.
Some of my friends and acquaintances report being immersed in bliss at different times. And then, for many, immersed in the opposite. And the natural longing for getting back to bliss.
Louie is giving me a taste of something akin to bliss. Sharon senses he is quite blissful. It hadn't occurred to me that a body might really enjoy this transitioning out of itself. He has lost the ability to move except for an occasional shift of his head and a little pushing of the forelegs to adjust his position. There is a lot of eye movement, with his eyes half-open, as if in a dream state. His breathing is faster, his extremities noticeably colder. His little pink nose has gone white. His ears twitch now and then. If I stroke him lightly, he responds with a ragged purr.
As I write, the sun is shifting to the western horizon, five other cats are inside resting, and I have the Lou-Lou playlist going through my computer's speakers. Lama Gyurme is singing: "Calling the Lama from Afar". I sense Louie is calling bliss from near and afar for us all. The studio feels full of something almost tangible. I am willing to name it love.
Eckhart Tolle writes about "the love that has no opposite." I suspect this is the bliss that has no opposite, something soft and smooth that is Nothing, that is That which we all are.
Several people have remarked to me that these cats are lucky that I have become their human caretaker, but I see it quite differently, that I am the lucky one. Or, more accurately, that we are lucky together, serving one another equally.
Some of my friends and acquaintances report being immersed in bliss at different times. And then, for many, immersed in the opposite. And the natural longing for getting back to bliss.
Louie is giving me a taste of something akin to bliss. Sharon senses he is quite blissful. It hadn't occurred to me that a body might really enjoy this transitioning out of itself. He has lost the ability to move except for an occasional shift of his head and a little pushing of the forelegs to adjust his position. There is a lot of eye movement, with his eyes half-open, as if in a dream state. His breathing is faster, his extremities noticeably colder. His little pink nose has gone white. His ears twitch now and then. If I stroke him lightly, he responds with a ragged purr.
As I write, the sun is shifting to the western horizon, five other cats are inside resting, and I have the Lou-Lou playlist going through my computer's speakers. Lama Gyurme is singing: "Calling the Lama from Afar". I sense Louie is calling bliss from near and afar for us all. The studio feels full of something almost tangible. I am willing to name it love.
Eckhart Tolle writes about "the love that has no opposite." I suspect this is the bliss that has no opposite, something soft and smooth that is Nothing, that is That which we all are.
Several people have remarked to me that these cats are lucky that I have become their human caretaker, but I see it quite differently, that I am the lucky one. Or, more accurately, that we are lucky together, serving one another equally.
posted by Forgive the Dream at 3:46 PM
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