Life in the Real World

I was enchanted to read a description recently of our local metaphysical expo:

It is a place where love and light fill every crevice and then spill over the top into the real world.

Actually, what more needs to be said?  One could just rest in that image.  But it did get me thinking about that term, "the real world."

There were years when I'd go on the AMA Samy retreat at Grailville and experience it as a place of love and serenity.  Arriving home after all the goodbyes had been said, I'd feel my responsibilities descend on me like big gray backpacks full of cement.  The world I lived in was populated by difficult people and too many things to do (that is, things I thought I had to do).  My need for creative time always felt squeezed.  Play time, forget it. These problems stood waiting for me like a home invader behind the kitchen door.

Here I am using that interesting word again:  problem.  It seemed clear at those times that the sunny silence of retreat was time spent with the absolute, and real life was a mess. 

Depends on what you mean by a mess.  Yes, much of life, lots of it, is out of your control, and some of it involves conflicts.  People let you down or undermine you, other people don't return calls, important meetings are cancelled, you fall and your life is changed.  You are an organic life form that ages, gets sick, dies, and so does everyone else. So does the siding on the house.  Everything keeps changing out there.  The sunflowers from the wedding die.

But the digital pictures survives - above is one from Cassie's wedding - as do the memories. And there are many opportunities here for connecting, receiving with gratitude, giving.  I have faith in the possibility of a life in which love overflows.

I am remembering a line from Robert Frost's Birches , which is, now that I think about it, about this - bliss, grief, nirvana, samsara.

Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.