In my emptiness, I surrendered to the silence of my flat; I connected with another; and I opened my eyes.
My life with bipolar makes me no stranger to emptiness – an emptiness that doesn’t care about a lot of my familiar stuff. It doesn’t care about my material possessions such as my bed, watch, shoes, or haircut. It couldn’t care less about such stuff. Emptiness doesn’t care about my achievements – my certificates and work history. My CV means absolutely nothing. It wants nothing to do with my friends and companions; I am far from a rich man in this hollow darkness. Emptiness craves my temptations – to establish fake connections with devalued behaviours. Most of all, it wants something better; it wants to connect my silence with oneness.
When I tap into oneness, there is an invitation towards deep peace – a kind of blissfulness that fills body and soul, something much richer than my surface world. Oneness unites with the real world, a real connection with the beloved, a universal presence that encircles me. This oneness draws me into meditation – a space of deep mind, deep experiences, and a sense of wholeness. Oneness always relates: it is practical and it is a fulfilment of knowledge. “I sink myself in You, I in You, You in me.” There is contemplation in oneness, a space beyond meditation, beyond the momentary. In this nourishment, I begin to open my eyes.
I open my eyes to new life, and something really good happens. This new life points towards the sun, yes, the glorious, sustaining sun – giving me warmth and comfort. I no longer see the universe but rather the multiverse! New life helps me to pause and relax. I become confident in who I am. I can listen to a king with ease, with ease. I stop travelling between past and future, and become fully absorbed and fully engaged. Deep mind becomes familiar mind. All my needs are met. I see secure love, a love that says “Even if you stop loving me, I will not stop loving you.”