Being adored by the sea

Stillness 8-16: Sometimes when we look around at our flowers or the sky or the sea and we really listen to what is going on, we can hear the world beseeching us to let it love us. Beseeching originally meant “seeking” … the world seeks us. The world finds itself in us. We mirror back to the world, and to ourselves, that which we seek.

We tend to live with such devotion to accomplishment and busy-ness! We have lists to check off, tasks to complete, and from an early age we’re told it’s not enough simply to be ourselves—we really do need to become someone else and that means doing stuff we’d rather not. We forget the art of being passive, of being receptive. Of being open, curious, and allowing life to fill us with its love for us.

I had an out-of-body experience when I was 20 that dramatically altered my experience of consciousness. I left my body and discovered I could move through walls, into the halls, and even outside the tall building where I was staying. I was trepidatious and nervous at first, looking down at my body lying very still on the bed below, but it felt also pretty remarkable. As I gradually grew more comfortable with the strangeness of it, I was excited to try to find out more about what I could do and how far I could go with this interesting power of my consciousness being free of my physical body.

What was most interesting to me at the time was that my consciousness didn’t change. I didn’t become an enlightened being of love and all-knowingness! I didn’t even meet angels or ascended beings or people who’d died. I was still just a young, curious student, and my consciousness still felt very human. Everything I experienced was fairly familiar, except that I wasn’t limited by physics. Eventually, I was tired of my travels and returned to my body. For a moment I sat beside it, wondering how to get back in. Then I sort of laughed at myself, and remembered that actually I already was in my body—for I was still very much alive. I gently wiggled fingers and toes, began to feel the solidness on my back, my eyes fluttered open. It was a good feeling to be home…grounded in form and substance.

My point is that anyone can experience astral projection, whether by accident or design, but out-of-body experiences are not really as thrilling an experience as is being in a physical body. While we are alive, we have an extraordinary opportunity to breathe, taste, immerse, drink in visions and sounds in ways that we don’t always value. When our bodies die, we may return to our pre-existence of love and light, and that’s very nice too, but while we’re here we may as well adore life with every cell of our beautiful bodies and with every breath we take.

How can we do that? It’s very simple: let life love you. Be more passive about it, rather than chasing after meaning, insight, experiences, and joy. Be more humble, open, and receptive. Let your body love you. Let the birds sing their praises and happiness to you, and the forest envelope you in its love, let the waves love you, and the sky, and the stars, and your friends, lovers, children, ancestors, dogs and cats, lions and tigers… everything, everything wants to love you. Let yourself be adored. Receive the passionate energy that life pours into you. Life seeks something to love, and that is you. Life beseeches you to let it love you, just as your dog or cat does. Feel it in everything—the food you eat, fragrances, things soft to the touch. Let all your experiences experience you. Because ultimately, life is a distillation of love, and love cannot exist if it’s not received and appreciated. It’s not enough just to give it—it must be accepted too. You are the beloved.