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“We are motivated more by aversion to the unpleasant than by a will toward truth, freedom, or healing. We are constantly attempting to escape our life, to avoid rather than enter our pain, and we wonder why it is so difficult to be fully alive.” – Stephen Levine

Stephen Levine is a poet and teacher of guided meditation healing techniques. He and his wife and spiritual partner, Ondrea, have counseled the dying and their loved ones for more than 30 years. Stephen Levine’s bestselling books A Gradual Awakening A Year to Live: How to Live This Year as If It Were Your Last are considered classics in the field of conscious living and dying. He is also the coauthor, with Ondrea, of the acclaimed To Love and Be Loved Who Dies?: An Investigation of Conscious Living and Conscious Dying

The Levine’s work is said to stretch from the most painful experiences of the human spectrum to the furthest point on the human horizon, from hell to heaven, from pain to ease, from our ongoing sense of loss to the legacy of our unending interconnectedness.


TIRING OF GLORY HE LET HIMSELF DOWN FROM THE CROSS

a poem by Stephen Levine

As the love song continues moving earth toward heaven we may be relieved to find Jesus laying hands on his antichrist. Remembering that he too had to be reminded who he really was, and that even he in Gesemane had sought a loop hole in the law, looked to angelic legal advice and still felt forsaken.

As we pass beyond our old ghosts and timeless gods we discover who we really might be. No longer hollowed by praise and blame. No longer deep fried in ritual and suffering.
What will it take for us to remember?
How long will we live trembling at the foot of the cross until we drop to our knees before the divine within?
How long will it take our Jesus to bring our antiChrist down from the cross?

Tiring of glory he let himself down, following the curve
of the Earth the ground rose up to meet his feet..

Mistaken for Buddha, mistaken for Krishna, mistaken for God he got drunk like a Tang hermit down from the mountain with a few poems tucked in his robe and the amazing light of Being oddly leaking through. Only allowed to play with the children.
“ Crazy old man!”
And the earth felt so good to his scarred feet. Mud between the toes more distinct than the fading heavens. “Nothing true” he said, “but love”.
No matter that Machiavelli’s gods of war proclaim that you can count on fear more than love.

Standing like Arjuna in the Glorious Gita or is it Arjuna himself out there up to his knees in corpses and the sharp tools that create corpses.
On the battlefield the God of Love, The God of Peace, arms extended pierced by a torrent of arrows revealing the name of their beloved in every language, on every heart, on every bone, the ribcage like a cathedral, the altar of the heart still red with sacrifice and the cool blue of letting go like Hanuman in the Ramayana: Ram’s name incised on every bone like the longing of saints.


To learn more about Stephen and Ondrea visit their Facebook page.

 

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