There is a curious thing about writing about the journey. Like a trip to a foreign land, we may struggle to describe the experience at times. But then, at a certain point, words will simply fail to capture the essence of life. Giving something a name becomes meaningless.
Of course there are the obvious ones.
Like what is your name?
It’s something we use all the time. Yet when the core identity is roasted, calling yourself a name become meaningless. You are no longer that. Soon enough, we return to using the name for our “person”, but it’s like a nickname you might give your car.
Who you now are has no name. You are as an increment of the one, a wave on the ocean of….
Many try to describe it. Even use words to describe no words, like Tao. Source. Brahman. That. But the words now remain symbols for something that cannot be conceived. A symbol that represents nothing.
What is Love?
As I wrote back on Love is, there is human love, and then there is divine love.
How does one understand divine love? We struggle to manage and heal our personal pain. But what of a love that can contain all suffering of all beings, all at once? And not even ripple.
We may use words that contain love, like Compassion and Faith.
But what word do we use when passion blends with divine love? Curiously, there are words in English for major happiness, like Ecstasy and Rapture. But what of rapturous passionate divinity?
What do we call it when passion and compassion join? And what do we call it when love expands and absorbs everything? To say there is only love compares it to something small like the universe.
To a writer or teacher, this can present points of challenge. How do we describe what cannot be described, when the very act of trying to describe it creates concepts that fall far short? It’s like saying God is big or an atom is small.
In the end, one can only share the words. At some point, they will meet the person returning to that place and great them.