Where does infinity sit?
Written Spring of 2024
I'm much less interested in speaking esoterically than I used to be. I used to linger on as if my knowledge of Western and Eastern philosophy like Alan Watts, Ram Das, and Zen Buddhism made me more aware of this universe than others. However, spiritual bypassing is the same spell that exploits and manipulates plenty of people worldwide. The truth is that no matter how much information we gain from the infinite, seeing ourselves as special only further elicits separateness. The feeling of 'special-ness' goes against the very teachings that point to the facet you find yourself special within. The infinite is powerful; there is a plethora of esoteric knowledge at our fingertips, and it's a heck of a lot of fun to talk about. The second you start seeing yourself as special or superior based on that knowledge is the second you've missed the entire point.
My rabbit, Bentley, is dying. He's a two-pound (probably less now) miniature grey flop. He hasn't been interested in food or water for a week. Each day, he seems a little less like a form and more like energy passing through. The only thing he still desires is love. He would let me pet him all day and night if I could. But life goes on, and I must do the living thing. A dying 13-year-old rabbit doesn't necessitate a multi-weeklong leave of absence ...right?
If you think you need a particular book, meditation cushion, candle scent, or Alan Watts recording to experience the infinite, then you've missed it. The infinite is right here, all the time. That isn't special. That isn't weird. We must stop branding and marketing the infinite like it's something designated for a select few or a 50-hour meditation retreat. The infinite sits in traffic. The infinite does their taxes. The infinite complains of back pain. We all belong to it. Anyone and everyone can access their inherent connection to this universe. In fact, we do.
I've cried every day for the past four days, not only for Bentley but for the fact that every beautiful, loving creature in this world will someday stop eating and drinking and only desire love. There is something so pure in a two-pound rabbit, hardly in this dimension or the other, somewhere in between, holding their clementine-sized head up and asking for love. Love is our core need. Love rises out of the void, and love falls back into it. Bentley has always been much closer to that pure unconditional love than most adult humans. However, without the desire for food and water, somewhere between dead and alive, it feels like every hair on his body is that love. I can see clearly now, it always was.
Most of us dream and get the shivers when something serendipitous happens. Most of us wonder where we will go when we die. We look into our dogs' eyes and feel unconditional love. We find ourselves on autopilot, hypnotized by subconscious thought processes. We're spiritual beings having a human experience. Some experiences look a heck of a lot more human than others, but that doesn't make them better or worse. The whole point is that we get to experience anything at all. That's where the magic is. That experience looks mighty different in every nook and cranny of this earth. The infinite facets in which life expresses itself. The faster someone can get off their high horse and out of their own way, the quicker they can connect with what's been here the whole time. Ordinary mind experiencing ordinary life. That's where infinity sits.