My heart was blown wide open. The Love I felt for the others in the room was unlimited. I looked into each of their eyes and felt their pain. I felt their pain of being here in a body. As I looked at them waves of sobbing overcame me. Their pain was my pain. There was no feeling of separation.
Throughout my life I’ve had a recurring dream of driving a car downhill with brakes that barely work. I mean I have to press really hard on the foot petal and use all my physical strength, focus and will power to keep from losing control. Somehow I always manage to avert the unknown terrifying event that would surely take place if I didn’t do all this efforting. I am always alone in this dream. After waking up I would feel drained and uncomfortable the next day.
I immediately was reminded of a story about The Buddha. Someone asked him about the most important part of his Dharma: “Is it Emptiness? Is it no-self? Is it impermanence?” “No,” he answered,” It is compassion. And anywhere that you find a teaching on compassion, go there.” As I watched Hillary and other exchanges that weekend, I thought, “This is compassion. I need to learn this.”
The next few months I was in this state that I only had heard about: my mind quiet, an incredibly deep relaxation and feeling of sensuality in the body. Everything was so bright and direct, and I was feeling very raw because of it. Also, there was bliss and peace, the perfection of everything. I felt that the birds flying over, the trees I walked under, everything was a part of my body. The frantic urge to seek was gone. Just being here was it.
