Feeling the real Love
on twenty-fourth anniversary of Vajramuktiyoga
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Generally Love is divided in
two need love and gift love . Philosophically need love is not love at all
because it's based on the need and when the need finishes or what one needs
changes its form in space and time the Love subtly doesn't remain it becomes an
attachment. So Gift love is the real Love but it is to be given by a higher
being who has traversed higher planes gone beyond the state of mind and matter
but when we pray for an understanding and by his grace it dawns unto us then
our I ness changes and it takes us slowly towards Gift Love. I believe that the love has to be given by
such being who is beyond mind and matter so it's a gift love .I told my father
about this love when he said about his mother's love which I have given in my
book Who Am I? Who am I? Paper back
Who am I? Kindle and
paperback links
the
philosophical talks with my earthly father .I liked the way Mirdad expresses
about love I will give it here so anyone can feel it although Love is beyond
words
MIRDAD: Love
is the Law of god. You live that you may learn to love. You love that you may
learn to live. No other lesson is required of Man. And what is it to love but
for the lover to absorb forever the beloved so that the twain be one? And whom,
or what, is one to love? Is one to choose a certain leaf upon the Tree of Life
and pour upon it all one’s heart? What of the branch that bears the leaf? What
of the stem that holds the branch? What of the bark that shields the stem? What
of the roots that feed the bark, the stem, the branches and the leaves? What of
the soil embosoming the roots? What of the sun, and sea, and air that fertilize
the soil? You say,’ But there be leaves and leaves upon a single tree. Some are
healthy, some are sick; some are beautiful, some, ugly; some are giant, some
are dwarfs. How can we help but pick and choose?’ I say to you, Out of the
paleness of the sick proceeds the freshness of the healthy. I further say to
you that ugliness is Beauty’s palette, paint and brush; and that the dwarf
would not have been a dwarf had he not given of his stature to the giant. You
are the Tree of Life. Beware of fractioning yourselves. Set not a fruit against
a fruit, a leaf against a leaf, a bough against a bough; nor set the stem
against the roots; nor set the tree against the mother-soil. That is precisely
what you do when you love one part more than the rest, or to the exclusion of
the rest. You are the Tree of Life. Your roots are everywhere. Your boughs and leaves
are everywhere. Your fruits are in every mouth. Whatever be the fruits upon
that tree; whatever be its boughs and leaves; whatever be its roots, they are
your fruits; they are your leaves and boughs; they are your roots; if you would
have the tree bear sweet and fragrant fruit, if you would have it ever strong
and green, see to the sap wherewith you feed the roots. Love is the sap of
Life. While hatred is the pus of Death. But Love, like blood, must circulate
unhindered in the veins. Repress the blood, and it becomes a menace and a
plague. And what is Hate but Love repressed, or Love withheld, therefore
becoming such a deadly poison both to the feeder and the fed; both to the hater
and to that he hates? A yellow leaf upon your tree of life is but a Love weaned
leaf. Blame not the yellow leaf. A withered bough is but a Love-starved bough. Blame
not the withered bough. A putrid fruit
is but a Hatred-suckled fruit. Blame not the putrid fruit. But rather blame
your blind and stingy heart that would dole out the sap of life to few and
would deny it to many, thereby denying it to itself. No love is possible except
the love of self. No self is real save the all-embracing Self. Therefore is God
all Love, because he loves Himself. So long as you are pained by Love, you have
not found your real self, nor have you found the golden key of Love. Because
you love an ephemeral self, you love is ephemeral. The love of man for woman is
not love. It is thereof a very distant token. The love of parent for the child
is but the threshold to Love’s holy temple. Till every man be every woman’s
lover , and the reverse; till every child be every parent’s child, and the
reverse, let men and women brag of flesh and bone clinging to flesh and bone,
but never speak the sacred name of Love. For that is blasphemy. You have no
friends so long you can count a single man as foe. The heart that harbors
enmity how can it be a safe abode for friendship? You do not know the joy of
Love so long as there is hatred in your hearts. Were you to feed all things the
sap of Life except a certain tiny worm, that certain tiny worm alone would
embitter your life. For in loving anything, or anyone, you love in truth but
yourselves. Likewise, in hating anything, or anyone, you hate in truth but
yourselves. For that which you hate is bound up inseparably with that which you
love, like the face and the reverse of the same coin. If you would be honest
with yourselves, then must you love what you hate and what hates you before you
love what you love and what loves you. Love is not a virtue. Love is a
necessity; more so than bread and water; more so than light and air. Let no one
pride himself on loving. But rather breathe in love and breathe it out just as
unconsciously and freely as your breathe in the air and breathe it out. For
Love needs no one to exalt it. Love will exalt the heart that it finds worth of
itself. Love neither lends nor borrows; Love neither buys nor sells; but when
it gives, it gives it s all; and when it takes, it takes its all. It's very
taking is a giving. It's very giving is a taking. Therefore is it the same
to-day, to-morrow and forevermore. Just as a mighty river emptying itself in
the sea is e’er replenished by the sea, so must you empty yourselves in Love
that you may be ever filled with Love. The pool that would withhold the
sea-gift from the sea becomes a stagnant pool. There is nor ‘more’ nor ‘less’
in Love . The moment you attempt to grade and measure Love it slips away
leaving behind it bitter memories. Nor is there ‘now’ and ‘then’ , nor ‘here’
and ‘there’ in Love . All seasons are Love seasons. All spots are fit abodes
for Love. Love knows no boundaries or bars. A love whose course is checked by
any obstacle whatever is not yet worthy of the name of Love. I often hear you
say that Love is blind, meaning that it can see no fault in the beloved. That
kind of blindness is the height of seeing. Would you were always so blind as to
behold no fault in anything. Nay, clear and penetrating is the eye of Love.
Therefore, it sees no fault. When Love has purged your sight, then would you
see nothing at all unworthy of your Love? Only a loveshorn, faulty eye is ever
busy finding faults. Whatever fault it finds are only its own faults. Love
integrates. Hatred disintegrates. This huge and ponderous mass of earth and
rock which you call Altar Peak would quickly fly asunder were it not held
together by the hand of Love. Even your bodies, perishable as they seem, could
certainly resist disintegration did you but love each cell of them with equal
zeal. Love is peace a throb with melodies of Life. Hatred is war agog with
fiendish blasts of Death. Which would you: Love and be at everlasting peace? Or
hate and be at everlasting war? The whole earth is alive in you. The heavens
and their hosts are alive in you. So love the Earth and all her suckling if you
would love yourselves. And love the Heavens and all their tenants if you would
love yourselves. Why do you hate Naronda , Abimar ? Naronda: All were taken
aback by so sudden a shift in the Master’s voice and course of thoughts; while
Abimar and I were dumb-struck by so pointed a question about an estrangement
between us which we carefully hid from all and had reasons to believe it was
not detached by any. All looked upon the two of us in utter wonder and waited
on the lips of Abimar. Abimar: (eying me in reproach) Did you, Naronda , tell
the Master? Naronda: When Abimar has said ‘The Master’ , my heart melted in joy
within me. For it was round that word that we had disagreed long before Mirdad
revealed himself; I holding that he was a teacher come to enlighten men; and
Abimar insisting, he was but a common man. MIRDAD: Look not askance upon
Naronda, Abimar; for he is blameless of your blame. Abimar: Who told you, then?
Can you read men’s minds too? MIRDAD: Mirdad needs nor spies nor interpreters.
Did you but love Mirdad as he loves you, you could with ease read in his mind
and see into his heart as well. Abimar: forgive a blind and a deaf man, Master.
Open my eye and ear, for I am eager to see and to hear. MIRDAD: Love is the
only wonder-worker. If you would see let love be in the pupil of the eye. If
you would hear, let love be in the drum of the ear. Abimar: But I hate no man,
not even Naronda . MIRDAD: Not-hating is not loving, Abimar . for Love is an
active force; and save it guide your every move and step, you cannot find you
way; and save it fill your every wish and thought , your wishes shall be
nettles in your dreams; your thoughts shall be as dirges for your days. Now is
my heart a harp , and I am moved to song. Where is your harp, good Zamora.
Zamora: Shall I go and fetch it , Master? MIRDAD: Go, Zamora. Naronda: Zamora instantly arose and went for
the harp. The rest looked at each other in utter bewilderment and held their
peace. When Zamora returned with the harp and Master gently took it from his
hand, and bending over it in tenderness, carefully adjusted every string and
then began to play and sing. MIRDAD: God is your captain, sail, my Ark! Though
Hell unleash her furies red Upon the living and the dead, And turn the earth to
molten lead, And sweep the skies of every mark, God is your captain, sail, my
Ark! Love is your compass, ply, my ark! Go north and south, go east and west
And share with all your treasure chest. The storm shall bear you on its crest A
light for sailors in the dark. Love is your compass, ply, my Ark! Faith is your
anchor, ride, my Ark! Should thunder roar, and lightning dart, And mountains
shake and fall apart, And man become so faint of heart As to forget the holy
spark, Faith is your anchor, ride, my ark! Naronda: The Master ceased and bent
over the harp as bends a mother, love-entranced, over an infant at her breast.
And though its strings no longer quivered, the harp continued to ring on ,’God
is your captain, sail, my Ark!’ and though the Master’s lips were shut, his
voice reverberated for a space thoughout the aerie and floated out in waves
unto the rugged peaks about; unto the hills and vales below; unto the restless
sea in the distance; unto the vaulted blue overhead. There were star showers
and rainbows in that voice. There were quakes and gales along with soughing
winds and song-intoxicated nightingales. There were heaving seas empalled with
soft, dew-laden mist. And it seemed as if the whole of creation were listening
thereto in thankful gladness. And it further seemed as if the Milky mountains
range, with Altar Peak in the centre, had suddenly become detached from the
Earth and were afloat in space, majestic, powerful and certain of its course.
For three days thereafter, the Master spoke no word to any man.
We can write
thousand pages book on Love yet love is a feeling to experience every part of
the cosmos. God is ocean of Love and individual soul is the drop of that ocean
if you read Kabir's book its name itself is Anuraagsagar meaning ocean of love
God is the ocean of Love and we are drops of that ocean. Love flows from the
simplicity of the heart and height of cultivation is simplicity Vajramukti my
way of life is from that simplicity of heart from action to liberation please
read and help all to grow in love to know thyself .
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