Profound happiness

Sitting at my kitchen table I have a view of my somewhat unkempt garden. Birds fly back and forth. I see flowering rosemary with buzzing bees and a bit further down an orange tree filled with sweet juicy oranges. Each time I focus my attention on the power of nature and notice the meticulous details of a flower or insect, I am in awe. What an incredible perfection!

The powerful life force that allows me to breathe and lets my heart beat, is exactly that same life force that makes the birds whistle and the trees grow. I am not separate from nature, but just as every other life form a unique manifestation of that single force of life.

I may call this life force God, or enlightenment, Spirit, the All. Giving it a name does injustice to something that can not be distinguished. After all, this source represents everything and is inseparable from all that is. There is nothing, truly nothing, that is not spirit.

In his book “Rusten in Zijn” Hans Knibbe, founder of ‘School voor Zijnsorientatie’, describes it in the following way: “You find yourself within the heart of God. When you look in front of you, you see God’s creation, when you look to the left you see a different panorama, which is also God’s creation, to the right you see something else, yet again God, now in another form. If you look within, to what you used to call you, you see a panorama of feelings, thoughts and perceptions, and indeed: also God.”

When I let this sink in, the whole image I have of myself has something hilarious. I see myself try so hard to accomplish everything. To be a good coach, to organise professional trainings, to write valuable blogs, to be a loving and open-minded mother, an understanding friend. I observe the self taking itself so seriously, and I start laughing. I realise: it isn’t that important what I do, what I think, what I write. Life happens anyways, regardless of my thoughts and actions. I don’t actually need to try so incredibly hard to push things in the right direction.

Once I surrender to this realisation, there is no longer a need for direction, no pulling or pushing, nor holding back. Instead, there is simply free and impartial movement within the natural stream of life, where every second is new and fresh. It isn’t vague, nor is it an escape from reality, rather it’s a very earthly experience. Being totally and completely open and in contact with the reality of every moment.

These are moments of profound happiness, when I can experience this. My heart is open wide and there’s an underlying feeling that whatever is said or done or felt, by whomever, is in essence good. Not good in terms of good and bad, but good because it’s simply the way life moves at that moment. It’s not me or another, but life (God, spirit) that’s manifesting itself. In endlessly different ways. And I may be part of it. I can join in.

Beware, this is not a plea to surrender everything to a fatherly God. This doesn’t concern a spiritual escape route, in case this is what you are thinking. Rather, it’s about surrendering to the natural intelligence of life. Which rises above the individual. Which requires surrender and complete presence. Out of the head, back to your body. Being led by the heart, where you can connect to the divine source. Where the rational mind is subservient to the heart.

It are just brief moments that I can be fully present in the now. As soon as my rational mind takes over, to set boundaries, to analyse and put things into a certain perspective, the openness disappears. I lose connection with my heart.

Is this a problem? Not at all! Even when I am pushing in a direction, I am the divine manifestation. Similarly so when I am afraid, angry or very angry. At that moment I am the divine manifestation in a tense form. There is a continuous trust that the lightness and flow is available every moment and the tension will unfold when I turn my attention to the reality of the now. Just as Eckhart Tolle teaches me. Or Thich Nhat Hanh. Back to the breath, embracing the silence, listening to the whistling of birds. Simply being aware of myself and the other. Of thoughts and feelings. Not altering them. Allowing them to be. To move. Instead of clinging on.

In doing so, I invite my heart to be receptive to the movement and great beauty of life. Even when life hurts or is sad. Nothing remains the same. Which reminds me of a song we used to sing at school: hush now, wait and see, everything will be anew…. Let this be a mantra for the coming month!