I loved someone once but our love was ruined. I often love, and love is often lost; but this was a fiercer love and a deeper loss. My mind swirls through an incongruent collection of memories. I have kept our words and silences folded within corners of worn out black cardboard. I search feverishly for meaning in the contents of the crimson envelope at the bottom of that box. But I am haunted by its indiscernible contours and the several questions that remain its ever constant company, “Why did I love him so much?”, “What ruined our love?”, and “Why did it hurt so much?”
Philosophy, religion, and spirituality have been topics of interests lately, various religious texts and histories of ancient mystics dominating my reading lists. I am moved by mythology and compelled by cosmology. In my studies I encounter thrilling worlds, epics that echo my daily experience in this world.
I am liberated by the language of these mysteries, these mysteries that are not problems to be solved but truths to be experienced. Knowing these traditions of wisdom, these timeless accounts, has made it possible for me to re-imagine my memories and experiences.
I listen to monks refer to the “pure land” and “the kingdom of God”. I reap the fruits of a former nun’s research in regards to “ecstasis” and “transcendence”. And I recall biblical references to “Eden” and “paradise”. I understand each of these to be a pure way, or a pure state, of existing. Each is a garden with all the conditions necessary for harmony and oneness to be nurtured. In these sanctuaries everything is as it should be. Everything is sublime. Freedom, beauty, goodness, and all the other virtues blossom there.
Meditating, or practicing mindfulness techniques, teaches us to be “awake”. To be awake is to be present with oneself and, simultaneously, the world we are perhaps indivisible from. This practice is one way to engage with our essence which, if practiced correctly, results in the kind of blissful existence described as Eden, “the pure land”, and “the kingdom of God.”
The visceral impressions I am left with from mindfulness exercises focused on uniting the mind and body, as well as from colorful images of the garden in Genesis, make me feel as if I have answers, at least in a small measure.
I cannot say if this is why he loved me, or if he experienced what I experienced. And that is okay. But this is why I loved him. Because with him I knew transcendence on the tips of my fingers and in the depth of my soul. I was most present, most awake, in the air we shared. Monks teach us to be as stable as a mountain and as still as water that perfectly reflects the face of the moon. We were mountains. We were still water. We were the cosmos. Space expanded when we were together. Our mundane moments were indeed divine. Whatever room we shared became paradise, complete with lush gardens popping up all around, rivers running through it, and stars being born above it with force and magnitude more spectacular than any blinding fire-work display man might attempt to mimic it with. This was the splendour of our love, the temple in which we partook together of a holy communion.
But fear and distrust crept in like a serpent. We didn’t intend on being deceived but it stirred our still waters and distorted our vision of each other. We moved ever out of touch. Our soil no longer tended by peace, our “holy land” became “no man’s land”. We became exiles, estranged from ourselves, from each other, from our essence. We were no longer sons of god, we were dead men.
At least... that is what it seems to me. These are the sentiments that burst like confetti from that crimson case. I cannot say what falls from his, or if he keeps anything at all. But this could be why I loved him. This could be what ruined our love. And this could be why it hurt so much.
If I have learned anything at all though it is that love is tender ground and we are its stewards. It requires that we be awake and attentive to engage with and honor one another. It must be our intention to create space, stillness, and stability. I believe that through careful practice innocence can be revived and love reborn like stars.
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