I’m reading Michael Pollan’s book, “How to Change Your Mind,” in which he follows the history of altered consciousness through psychedelic substances and meditation and discusses recent research in giving psilocybin to those who are dying, depressed, or anxious. Almost without exception, those who return from these experiences say two things: that the most important thing is love, and that everything is one.
John Lennon was naively courageous enough to sing “All You Need is Love.” It is an idea that we pay lip service to. The sentiment is simple and profound, and it isn’t about romantic love. Love is a willing immersion in experience, in the radical nature of life itself. Isn’t it amazing that we’re alive at all? Rather than being guided by the need to be special, better, or higher than anyone else, wouldn’t we make better use of this lifetime if we were guided by love? If we could embrace the spectacularly ordinary in ourselves and in the world?
To put the idea of “oneness” more concisely, imagine that you are a drop of water in an infinite ocean, and at the same time, the entire ocean is in you, in that drop of water. You are part of a vastness and that vastness is part of you.
Love and oneness. There is an image from Mahayana Buddhism called Indra’s Net. “Here is the metaphor: In the realm of the god Indra is a vast net that stretches infinitely in all directions. In each "eye" of the net is a single brilliant, perfect jewel. Each jewel also reflects every other jewel, infinite in number, and each of the reflected images of the jewels bears the image of all the other jewels — infinity to infinity. Whatever affects one jewel affects them all. Everything contains everything else. At the same time, each individual thing is not hindered by or confused with all the other individual things.”(1)
To experience the love and oneness practice the transgressive art of sitting with a soft body and a curious mind, sensing for the presence of stillness. Listen for what is underneath the noise, like a spider sitting on the edge of her web, sensing for the most delicate sensations. There is a whole world there, beneath the clang and jangle.
(1) From www.thoughtCo.com