This is purely a collection of beautifully random ramblings and reblogs. Remember kids: Make good Choices!!!
Our job in this life is not to shape ourselves into some ideal we imagine we ought to be, but to find out who we already are and become it.
But understand one thing: no matter what our path—whether it’s a progressive path or a direct path, weather it’s a devotional path or otherwise—the trajectory of our spiritual lives and all of spiritual awakening is toward surrender. Ultimately, that’s the name of the spiritual game. Everything we do spiritually is leading us to a spontaneous state of surrender—to letting go. That is where it all leads, no matter what the path is, no matter what the practice is. Once you know that, you notice that each step along the way is the next opportunity to surrender. It make take effort to get there; it may take effort to get you to the point where you are willing to let go into grace, but ultimately the whole of spirituality boils down to letting go of the illusion of the separate self—letting go of the way we think the world is and the way we think it should be.
The ultimate meditation is: surrender to reality. The more you fight, the more you are in conflict with it, the more you will be a loser. In deep surrender, the ego disappears. And when the ego is not there, for the first time you become aware of that which has always been there.
Imagine if Christians had been on the forefront of protecting our earth, if they actually viewed the world as God’s creation, and the animals as God’s animals, and the plants as God’s plants, and land as God’s land. What if the American Church spent millions of dollars fighting to preserve nature instead of investing in divisive culture wars and political lobbying campaigns? What if Christians were viewed as protectors of creation, shielding millions of acres of land, restoring polluted areas, and protecting animals from cruelty and exploitation?
Unfortunately, environmentalism is often frowned upon by evangelical leaders instead of championed.
Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.