Greetings from the Land of Enchantment

that I may see . . . . day four

BhaBhai: if someone seeks and becomes Gurmukh, then he dwells in the home of his own heart.

BhaBhai: The way of the terrifying world ocean is treacherous. Remain free of hope in the midst of hope, and you shall cross over. By Guru’s Grace, one comes to understand himself; in this way, he is Jiwan Mukt, dead while yet alive. II41II (936) –Guru Nanak

In the early days of sobriety,

hope became my password,

literally—to my email, my bank card—everything

Even as my motto denounced all hope:

“Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

It seemed so very romantic and desperate and spiritual

All at the same time,

Which is actually nothing like early sobriety—

At least the romantic part;

desperate—probably; spiritual—not really,

not at first anyway.

This morning I read,

“remain free of hope in the midst of hope”

and with that consciousness one is promised

liberation—jiwan mukt—remaining dead while yet

alive.

Like the seed in winter,

Inert, free of all action,

It longs for nothing, but in the midst

Of that cold, lonely darkness

Spring is promised.

There is hope.

We long for liberation

As a nation, we were built

Upon the myth of

Freedom

While we held people in chains.

Even now, we bind ourselves

To things, to people, to time.

And those things that we

Should have clung to,

we have let loose upon the winds:

Liberty, justice, truth,

“love thy neighbor.”

We no longer hold these truths

As self-evident; our logic has been

Crucified on a cross of greed and corruption.

So yes, let us abandon hope

In the midst of hope,

And awaken.

These promises of a nation

Will not be given to us.

We must take them