Greetings from the Land of Enchantment

But evidently it's a new brand of happiness--like the New Coke. I'm just hoping it lasts longer. Because in reality, the New Coke really did taste better. People were just so used to the Old Coke. They couldn't let go. I've let go of so many things over the years. But the kinds of changes I'm seeing in my life now have very little to do with anything I've done or am doing. Yes, I'm working on a new food regimen; and yes I'm meditating more. But still, these changes seem to be happening to me--not from me. Things that have troubled me for years are being removed. Old pains, tough gnarly scars, patterns of behavior that seemed impenetrable--simply lifted away. Removed.

And as great as it feels, there is a vulnerability that comes with this new openness, this new flavor, this new brand of me, which is scary. Any time I mention my insecurities or fears to my new beloved, he simply replies, "I'm not skeered!" In part to be funny and in part because it's true; he is the fearless king after all (His name is Abhai Raj). But is this simply the play of polarity? Does happiness naturally come with sadness? Does love of life naturally come with fear of death? I believe so; and it's our job to see beyond the polarity and come to a place of neutrality. Be in the moment. Dwell within our sensory self--and enjoy life's play.

After all, the relationship itself is a play of that same polarity--Sita and Ram, sun and moon, lover and beloved. The trick is to not get caught in the polarity and begin playing sides. Instead, transcend, merge, and dwell in the longing for the other. This is where the bliss lies. The ache and the ecstasy together, that quixotic nectar that is love.

So here I am. So happy sometimes that I don't know what to do with it all; and the other side is there too. All the insecurity, all the doubt, all the reservations, all the old stories, all the attachments to the way things have always been. It's Old Coke all over again.

But I don't even drink Coke anymore, so maybe that's the beginning of something entirely new . . .