When I was sixteen, I walked up the dark gravel road to our house. I looked up at the beautiful and immense starry night sky. And it was as if the wind blew through the whole universe.
In no time at all, all changed. The stars were the same. The wind was the same. The immensity was the same. And everything was God.
Everything is God, and there is nothing but God.
Any sense of a separate self is God playing that game with itself, locally and temporarily.
It was as simple as that, and it never went away.
I remember trying to write about this in my journal, and realized that even putting down a dot would be too much. The closest I could come, although it felt painfully inaccurate, was…. All is god, and there is nothing but God. And also…. Spirit is and goes beyond all polarities.
A vague sense of I returned, in the form of a sensation in the upper part of my far-back throat that felt like an I. And this was seen as God experiencing itself as that too. It couldn’t gain complete reality.
There were several years in a honeymoon phase where many of my human hangups, emotional issues, and traumas were mostly transcended, although some would be triggered in some situations. And then, not so many years ago, there was a kind of descent into this unprocessed material in me. (Which can be an especially messy, confusing, and painful form of dark night, especially if there is a lot of trauma there.)
What never went away is the noticing that all is God, and there is nothing but God.
In a sense, my life since then has been about learning to live with and from this. Because of my human messiness, it’s been a sometimes messy process, and that’s part of the path. The messiness is not excluded from the divine.