I'm Rich

the many faceted splendor of living a human life

I’m rich. Oh, not in that way. My mortgage won’t be paid off until I am 90. If I am still here, I intend to have a party.

No, and I’m not rich because the world is a peaceful and loving place. We all know that as much as there are wonders in the world, there are absolute terrors, travesties, and stupidity.

And yet, at the elevation of my richness, every happening is a wonder. My wealth transcends good and bad from the standpoint of “this one,” or, to say it better, the one I took myself to be. My wealth shows golden in the marvel of play. Imagine you are on a roller coaster going down. You aren’t terrified because you are too busy having fun. It’s like that. Wonder is your strongest sensation, and with that, an inner calm pervades. You are amazed, and with your amazement you return to your rightful size, which is, after all, neither too big nor too small.

I see, and sometimes almost against my will, I feel what is happening in the world around me. Like you, I move in turns to avoid the media, and rush back to it to ask, Is it really true, can it be happening like this? And like you, I mourn and take flight to ordinary mind and the tasks of the day; a refuge from the battering ram of the terrible.

But I have a secret power. No, strike me down for saying that. It is not my power; it cannot be mine. This is the power of surrender. It won’t be the way I want it to be, after all, but even more-if I let go the mooring of experiencing myself as an I, I am let go of, and a new way to experience life emerges.

I don’t think it’s avoidance. On the contrary, the trial of it all is just as deep, I assure you. It’s that somehow you don’t side with it. You are not a dispassionate observer as if watching a movie. No, everything is still at stake. It’s more that you are also every other perspective as well. He who was your enemy is yourself in another guise. You are now free to rejoice at another’s success. You can say what you think is wrong or right without a thousand dialogues inside your head. You are listening, and you are that which is listened to as well. Meaning that all of the characters in the dream have the same valence-no orient is the superior one; the one most valued.

What are you? then, you ask. After all, for as long as you have known yourself, you have known that you are the main character in your story. It has to be thus.

And yet, this elevation of awareness I am describing puts the I in perspective. It’s just like you are on a mountain top looking down on creation, as Karen Carpenter used to sing. You don’t favor one tree over another because what strikes you with awe is the scene. You experience the spaciousness of the vista without being perspectival. I know it sounds contradictory, but it is true. This is mysticism. At the mystical plane of awareness, the problem that appeared insurmountable for both logic and experience, is actually just not a problem.

Namaste,

Leslie

PS My cat was making noises as I read!