"there are galaxies swirling in Your eyebrows," she remarks teasingly
to Shiva, Who blesses her with His acceptance. she elaborates,
"we are everywhere, like space. we blend in telepathic rapport &
communion, which is dimensionless & beyond measurement. we are
formless pure consciousness." she continues: "eyebrows & galaxies are
artifacts of the physical plane, temporary & changing with
time." she glances at Shiva & is encouraged to go on when He
smiles invitingly. "both eyebrows & galaxies also have pleasing curves
whose beauty hints at sattvic energy," she says, drawing a deep breath.
"& they both are made of many smaller parts that constitute the whole."
"i'm claiming that seeing galaxies swirling in Your eyebrows is like
saying, 'You Who are formless & cosmic are also approachable
here on the limited level of the physical plane.'" she nods for
emphasis. "seeking You & communing with You places me in that
auspicious cosmic curve too—that sattvic smile—& is like being bathed
in blessings." she shyly continues, "Shiva, You radiate such sweet
sattvic energy that complete good will & loving responsiveness
is very natural in Your presence." she winks at Him with a smile.
"& You draw the playfulness out with the warm magnetism of Your
acceptance." Shiva chuckles & winks back. "if eyebrows & galaxies
are so closely connected," He remarks, "you can be sure, with the right
effort, to reveal that all is truly one down at the deep taproot."
"You mean," she says, "that i am You & You are me & we are all
together?" she grins, "you got it!" Shiva laughs, "now let's go have fun in
maya's marvelous mesmerizing drama of the day!" so it goes,
continues & ever begins yet again. om namah Shivaya!
You taught me earlier to be serious, focussed, deeply thinking.
then, at that time, it served me well. now You teach me quirky playfulness,
which has great value in this nursing home where laughter is less common.
i am Your student of silliness, practicing my funny faces
in the mirror & with the friend You bless me with on the internet.
toilet paper -- thin, crisp & flimsy -- provides a lesson in humor,
fluttering into angular shapes at the touch of a reaching hand.
it perversely creases & crimps & pleats & twists, corkscrewing
into weirdly angular lengths, dancing gently in the drafty room.
You show me that the elemental entities of the air frolic
in the folds of the tissue, delighting in its insubstantiality.
i can almost hear them now, laughing like rowdy children running wild
without any supervision inside the playground of the bathroom.
You teach me that i do not need to take life so seriously.
the crisp & kinky toilet paper was once an irritation &
now i smile at the antics of those frisky little beings playing.
i delight in their comedy act & they like my silly faces.