Beloved You sat on the cushion of stillness, calling it your practice. You bowed to silence, to breath, to the steady rhythm of your own devotion. You said, I want to awaken. You said, I want liberation. And so Love smiled, and invited you into Her ancient teaching: The practice is hidden in plain sight. The weather in your heart, the waves of your longing, the sting of betrayal — each one is a holy verse. You thought enlightenment would arrive with the hush of meditation, but the Beloved was whispering through your devastation, your fear, your hunger to be special. Every sigh, every ache, every tremor of the ego is Love handing you the practice. You sat, thinking practice was stillness. But She laughs now — for the real practice is ever in motion: the breath of life breathing you, the breaking, the writhing, the utter despair, the surrender, the remembering. Each moment, the Beloved lovingly offering you the perfect practice For what you have sought – revelation, freedom. You search for the hidden, yet the Truth stands naked in the marketplace, singing your name. The mind conceals what the heart knows. Every. Single. Moment. is the Teacher. Every gesture, a doorway. Every encounter, a chance to receive Your heart’s deep desire. The cushion was never the practice. It was always the preparation — a remembering of how to open your palms when Life offers Her fierce, tender gift. So now, when Love arrives disguised as chaos, bow. When She comes as peace, bow. When She tears the veil from your eyes, bow deeper. For there is nothing to seek. The practice has always been this: To let Love practice you. Raudri (Maria Rippo)
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Beautiful piece! Call it Love, call it pattern, call it nervous system,
either way…
what we avoid tends to be the lesson that repeats.