Space

The element of space is wide open. Anything can happen. And does. There is no right or wrong here, no good or bad. There is no place to fall but into utter and total neutrality and acceptance. There IS right and wrong here. There IS good and bad. There is the possibility of falling into extremes.

The crow, black as space, shouts its name "kha". The crow so sweet and tormenting at the same time. Flying forever in freedom on waves of the wind.

This black is seen when we look out at night, when we look at Mother Kali. This blackness swallows us up, destroys our conceptions, our cultural boundaries, our identity, our limitation. Simultaneously it allows for them all. It is unbounded.

When we truly enter space, we have no foothold. None. There is no reference frame. Our spirituality, our practice, everything that we hold sacred even is stripped from us. Simultaneously it is allowed. What a mystery!

Relying for so many years on tradition, even with the glorious tantra, this is the most shocking thing that hit me. Again and again. That these traditions have stain, stain that blots out, that binds, that constricts. To let these go and fall into the vastness of space requires courage. Courage to let these constrictions go. And when we attempt to limit space, even with best intentions, we fall back to earth. To our bindings. And we struggle along and do our work, creatures of the earth.

Quite amazing. Quite awesome. Indescribable. How can we limit this immense Mother?

Hail Kali Ma.

I expected some heads to fall, but not others. There is no limit to the number of swords she wields, letting you know that if you attempt to be like the hydra, there will be no remorse.

Hail Kali Ma.

Giver of life and taker of life. Allowing all to walk within her fold. Taking them back at her will.

Hail Kali Ma.

Hail the Queen of Space. Hail to the Space itself, that womb which births us and takes us back again.