The seeker's mind11

O mind, what are you doing to me? You are destroying all my divine possibilities. You are delaying indefinitely my supreme inevitabilities.

O mind, what are you doing to me? I thought that you would teach my vital and my body — the younger members of our family — how to enjoy the strength of vastness. Alas, instead of doing that, you are teaching them how to enjoy the weakness of meanness.

O mind, look, what are you doing to yourself? I thought that you were wise enough to see and feel the happiness that my heart enjoys by becoming inseparably one with the soul and its unfathomable ecstasy. Alas, instead of doing that, you are enjoying base jealousy towards the heart.

O mind, what are you doing to me? What have I done to you? My life — human life — is for happiness. The moment you think of me, all my happiness disappears. The moment I think of you, I suffer the same fate.

O mind, why, why on earth do you have to become so cruel to me? You torture me ruthlessly. I forgive you unreservedly. But alas, I fail to forget you, your jealousy, your meanness, your destructiveness. Deathless have become my excruciating pangs.

O mind, cruelty incarnate, you have bound me taut to your pitch-dark, tenebrous and wee world. As if that is not enough, you are strangling me there. Death is undoubtedly preferable to the untold torture that you continuously inflict upon me.

Truth to tell, you have been punishing me since you have known me with your doubt-dart and suspicion-gun. In you meanness has reached its zenith height. In you jealousy plays with the darkest night. In you insecurity fails to see the face of purity’s beauty.

O mind, you are nothing but your own unparalleled stupidity. Even when God Himself with His infinite Compassion-Light enters into your sordid existence-hole for its radical transformation and perfect perfection, you suspect God openly, strongly and unreservedly. Your fertile, nay, to be precise, futile imagination instigates you to think that God has an ulterior motive. Not only do you know what a suspicion-snake is, but you are nothing but that and that alone.

Helpless, God enters into His own two birthless and deathless Realities — Transcendental Height and Universal Delight — to hear all at once one solitary message: “Endless patience, endless patience.”

God the Compassion is not enough. God the Patience is needed, too.

O mind, you need some retribution which you so richly deserve. I give you my word of honour. And who is the witness? God the Pilot Supreme. Do you know what I am going to do? I shall compel you to be eternally one with my heart that enjoys inseparable oneness-delight with Infinity’s Light, Eternity’s Peace and Immortality’s Love.

SM 12. 26 April 1977