My life as a human, a gay person, a householder, a professional, etc… has really been instrumental in the divinization of this life. It’s been one of the real proofs of my Sahaj Marg practice.

Strangely, lately, I’ve felt somewhat isolated. Not entirely – and there have been many times lately when that word couldn’t be further from the truth in describing my life. But generally speaking, yes – feeling isolated.

I’ve read that “no man is an island,” and I’ve contemplated what that means to me in my life and its experiences. Islands appear to be separate, right? Isolated. (In fact, without doing the research, I’d be willing to bet that the “is” in isolated and the “is” in island indicate some kind of etymological link between the two words.)

Sometimes I really feel like an island.

When I think about the life I lead – as a human, householder, etc… – it feels to me to be quite mundane. My ego takes parts of it and tries making more of those parts than probably should be made. I need to feel fancy, right? But really I’m mundane as it gets. Unique as it gets, perhaps, but no less mundane because of it.

Recently, I’ve been thinking of all the “secrets” within my mind. Many of those are also very mundane. Yet, as mundane as they may be they are secrets no less. Secrets I’m not likely to share (umm… they’re secrets. duh). These secrets within aren’t what make me feel isolated, but they relate to it and they teach me so much about the bigger whole of life.

Here I am, having secrets. Right? And surely feeling the weight of said secrets. This weight, on a subconscious level, is what makes people tell secrets. But if I told my secrets, they would cease to be secrets and that would be a kind of betrayal – to myself. Me being me, in all the gore and glory that may apply, creates these secrets. REAL secrets that no one else can know.

Superficially, this will make one feel isolated. This here’s where my reality is spun into gold: Knowing these secrets of myself, keeping them secrets to myself, and being with those secrets necessarily and naturally causes me to go inward. After all, there is nowhere else safe or suitable for secrets like these.

Going inward is where the isolation factors in. There’s no one “in there.” Not even me really. The place within where these secrets are resting and where they are reviewed and examined and perhaps judged is mostly hollow. I know this because I’ve been there many times. I go there most nights when I sleep. And like most nights when I sleep, the “me” that’s going there isn’t really me – it’s the “Yeshua” that interacts with the phenomenal world and serves its purpose in that way.

Also like when I sleep, “Yeshua” is there with something else. Something IMMENSE. Something unnamable. This immense unnamable is always there and often, somewhere behind his eyeballs, Yeshua senses the Presence of that immense unnamable. This indescribable Entity also is the field upon which these many secrets rest and are stored. Yeshua goes there with the secrets and hangs out with them, but only briefly.

Soon, almost as if by some trick, both Yeshua and the secrets vaporize. Well, most of Yeshua. This phenomenal junk doesn’t persist very well in the Presence. This field has somehow convinced Yeshua that the only safe place for secrets is there. Within. But it’s there, within, that all diminishes. Every – single – thing. Diminishes. Except for the field Itself, that is.

And so it is, that in this way I’ve come to realize that isolation is a myth. “No man is an island” is bullshit. Humans ARE islands. The trick is not to stop there. Go deeper. Go within. Find the Immense Unnamable which is the root of the island. With this achievement, and eventual prolongation of that achievement, comes comfort – bliss, even – in this so-called isolation.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha | Aum Shanti


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