Some twenty years ago I was going through one of the most intense spiritual periods of my life. I was drawn into feelings of connectedness with the higher intelligence, with what is untouchable and unknowable. In spite of that, this very abstract “something” suddenly became personal and very, very close. With every cell of my body, I felt the words of great poets, the masters of divine love, like Tagore or Rumi.
Confronted with endless consciousness, unfathomable and unreachable Love, constantly streaming towards me, I asked myself whether it was alright that I always receive? Shouldn’t I equally give?
But, what to give? What can I give, that I had not already received? What can I offer to my Divine love? How can I show Her that I am worthy of everything She has given me?
And then, in the moment of confusion, uncertainty, unworthiness, and absolute surrender, there it was… a song – simple words which are later to become a part of the “ThreeOne” (the book of poems printed in 1008 numbered copies – these books are still circling the world, going from one loving heart to another). However, in their simplicity, these words revealed to me what I have, or what I could have, and I could give to make my Love fulfilled and happy.
Freedom. Only freedom could produce something I have not received. Freedom is so precious that even Divine Love trembles in the prospect of possible loss, filled with sweet worry for tender existence of the most important of all human traits.
Here it is:
If you turn your face away from me,
my heart will become the slave of sorrow.
If you cover your ears because of my words,
I will cry alone in silence.
If you push me away, go around me;
if you swear my name and give up on me,
it does not matter.
I will still give you my heart.
Even if you completely forget about me,
Even if all your thoughts
become strange and distant,
My love for you shall not die.
Although stronger than Earth and Heaven,
My Love needs to be nourished:
Her food is your Freedom!
It is your Freedom
you must nurture and care for.
Never give up on your freedom,
not even in the name of Love.
Because if you do that,
I will not cry,
and I will not mourn.
But, I know that my Love could die.
Today, twenty years later, insecure shivering has stopped. I understood it then, but today I understand it even better. I am finally ready to talk about freedom; about the only thing worth living for.
Trembling is different today. There is so much I want to share, relate, explain… But, are there any who will listen? And, more importantly, are there any who will hear?
There are, I know there are. Actually, there are many who are hearing the same words in their hearts, often not believing in the possibility of final liberation. The forgetting runs deep. The noise of spiritual nonsense is too loud.
But, it does not matter. Freedom is still the most valuable thing we have – it is what we really are. Even if there is the slightest chance that someone will hear the call, it is worth trying.