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T H E  T A N T R I C  P A T H

I behold the power of the loving gaze, the touch and presence. My Tantric path. The sensation in my knee beholding my regret meets my deconstructing of the illusion that I’m missing something. What am I looking for? It’s not like I can find it.

‘Look,’ my Tantric path says: ‘Get some clay in your head. Can you see it?’

‘Yes, I can’.

‘Use your hands to make it soft, add more water. Fix that knee that needs no fixing other than in language, but if you so insist – to speak, to label, to define the un-find-able – touch it.’

I’m looking at my cards:

‘This pain, your pain, it is the pain of others.’

‘All rise.’ The Bodhisattva on the dot, in the middle of the fire. Look, and hear: Nothing can be done, and all is hell.’

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This path is not progressive, though it clearly goes somewhere.

Is this what Pema Chödrön had in mind when she explained:

“Bodhisattvas practice ‘in the middle of the fire.’ This means they enter into the suffering of the world; it also means they stay steady with the fire of their own painful emotions. They neither act them out nor repress them. They are willing to stay ‘on the dot’ and explore an emotion’s ungraspable qualities and fluid energies — and to let that experience link them to the pain and courage of others.”

I am looking at these words with loving kindness. I touch my heart and the gaze speaks. Of silence. 

© Camelia Elias

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