There are nights (The reward of a practice)

There are nights I am the fountainhead. In meditation I am the Himalayan spawning ground for great rivers of joy. I course appreciation outward . . . I flow love. I flow attention. I am gobsmacked by the torrents coursing outward!

In communion, in silence, I feel the wellspring of giddy LoveFlow rise up and spill out. At first I am directing it toward those who crave it most, be they familiar or unfamiliar to me. Then as I merge into the great Flow it is simply for those I love — all of them — and then for All That Is, known and unknown.

I am merely the river bed, the BeingFlow comes from the Source. This is what is mine to do: to open up and allow it entrance. 

I allow it in greater volumes — cascading, splashing, flooding through me — by quieting and tuning in. It used to take me much time to open the access point wide, I had that much crap spinning in my brain. Now it takes little time. That is the reward of a practice.

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