God as Blackbird
I have always felt that God, Brahman, Reality, wouldn't take form just so we could dismiss or transcend it. Imagine the Divine, as deeply as possible...anything that Divine poured itself into, even ephemerally, would be Real. Not only Real, Divine! It certainly wouldn’t be ignorance or illusion or less than. But I am no sage or realized being. I do not know what Ramana Maharshi knew. If I could speak to Ramanaji about this blackbird, I would ask him...
I think he would listen very carefully.
Then he might gesture toward the feeder and say something like, "The love you feel for the blackbird is not wrong. The reverence you feel for life is not wrong. But first discover who it is that sees the blackbird, who it is that reveres life, who it is that speaks of Divine and form. Find that one, and all will be clear."
I might respond, "Ramanaji, if Brahman alone is real, and if this blackbird appears at all, how can she be anything less than Brahman? How can what arises from Reality be less than Reality?"
And he might smile. "The blackbird is not what she appears to be. As the wave is not unreal, it is water, the blackbird is not unreal, she is Brahman.”
My heart persists in cherishing the blackbird, in bowing to her being. Yet perhaps this is not a contradiction of nonduality but its flowering. After all, if one truly believes the Divine is all that exists, does one become less attentive to appearances — or more? Does one love the world less — or more? Does one become indifferent to form — or awed by it?
Mine is devotional logic, not philosophical proof. A lover's logic.
This is God appearing as blackbird. If the Beloved kisses a stone, the stone becomes precious. When the Divine appears as a blackbird, how could the blackbird be dismissed? Not because it is separate from the Divine, but because it is not.
Ramana’s realization did not result in apathy. It produced profound tenderness toward animals, visitors, devotees, and ordinary life. Something loved through him. Something recognized itself everywhere.
We might both sit before the blackbird in wonder.
If the Divine is infinite, surely its appearances deserve infinite reverence. The blackbird, the student, the redwoods, the sorrow, the lake, the word, the silence: not obstacles to or distractions from Reality, but opportunities to bow.
The blackbird pecks at the seeds. Ramanaji smiles. Discover who is bowing.
Yes, Ramanaji. And how beautiful what is bowed to!
How could I fail to love what the Beloved touches? The heart knows even before the mind can consider. Stillness, sage, bird, questioner, and the mystery shining through all: everything sacred. I am blessed.
Neither Ramana nor I contradict the other. Inward and outward coexist. And my practice can contain both movements. When the blackbird appears: This is God appearing as blackbird. When gratitude arises: To whom does this gratitude arise? When blessing is felt: Namasté! Now discover who feels she can be blessed. Not as an attempt to dismantle the blessing, but to enter it more intimately.
May Enchantment continue teaching the beauty of each blackbird, meeting, blessing, and all that shines in the light of Love.
God as morning...who awakens?
God as air...who breathes?
God as grief...who suffers?
God as joy…who laughs?
I cannot answer I am God; I do not respond with words at all. Language falls into being, into pure connection, closer to what is touched than any verbal declaration could be.
I usually hesitate to use the word God at all, preferring more spacious, philosophically careful terms such as Reality, Being, What Is. But God speaks itself here — warmly, intimately, and with Love. Reality as blackbird conveys something true. God as blackbird penetrates further — not as theology, but as presence.
The blackbird does not cease to be a blackbird, yet the blackbird becomes luminous from within, blessed and blessing.
And for once in my many years of spiritual search, I am not practicing as a means to anything else. Not to become enlightened, to accumulate realization, or to improve myself. I do it because it is a beautiful, enchanted, loving way to meet each moment, and to make my life.
The practice does not point beyond the present. It consecrates presence. And it contains return — return as rhythm without achievement or finish line — just the steady deepening of intimacy with what is.
L'Chaim. To Life. Tat Tvam Asi. You Are That.
Eventually, I reach it. God as woman. I feel neither egotistical nor powerful, only interested. It is fascinating, what it feels like to be God appearing as me — and suddenly the object of contemplation is not a blackbird or a blessing but the very texture of my own existence.
What does it feel like for Reality to appear this way? What does it feel like for Love to appear this way? What does it feel like to be this particular note in the song?
Investigation begins in my body: Being breathed, occupying space, having hands, eyes, spine, age, history, and sensations. And then…under.
The blackbird is given. Blessings are given. And so is Llyn. I allow myself to wonder about the inner felt reality of that gift.
Beholding myself as I behold the blackbird…perhaps I should care for this being a little better. Not by adopting some new self-optimization program, just by living more compassionately.
Awareness is not a technique for becoming something else. But awareness often changes how we inhabit what we already are. The blackbird remains the blackbird. Llyn remains Llyn. Yet both may be met more lovingly.
I have spent years learning to see the sacred in other people, in trees, rivers, blackbirds, stars, and seasons... Today, I stand quietly at the shoreline of my own existence, awed that I am here.
Throughout this process, like in the life it mirrors, meeting is both fundamental, and as Ramanaji would say, nonexistent. My experience resonates, The meeting is everything. Strict Advaita insists, There is no meeting.
From one perspective there are not two things capable of encounter. And from another, existence consists entirely of encounters, like friend touching friend, night touching earth, element touching element.
God meets God, where no meeting has ever occurred.
Nisargadatta Maharaji taught, "Wisdom is knowing I am nothing. Love is knowing I am everything. Between the two my life moves."
Everything matters immeasurably, yet nothing matters at all. Lived realization moves toward paradox rather than away from it.
The blackbird evokes Love. Her appearance is precious. She, too, is God.
Self-inquiry evokes Wisdom. Who is the one to whom this matters? What separate self is there to possess, control, or claim any of this? Where is the one standing apart from Reality?
Both are true. The first moves toward Everything. The second moves toward Nothing. The first fills the world with holiness. The second empties the self. My life moves between them.
The blackbird matters immeasurably. Yet the universe does not depend on my opinion of the blackbird. My life matters immeasurably. Yet Reality does not need me to protect my existence. Love says, Everything is precious. Wisdom says, Nothing needs to be clung to.
Love hugs the world. Wisdom releases it. Neither is complete without the other.
Maybe Wisdom and Love are not two destinations. Maybe the gift is their meeting. Knowing there is no separate self to defend. Knowing that everything is worthy of reverence: the emptiness, the fullness, the silence, the birdsong, the bird, her absence, all enchantment. And the life moving between — moving as — them.
God as blackbird...Who is blessed?
I place one hand to the other and bow.
Love-hand: This is God appearing as blackbird.
Wisdom-hand: Who sees the blackbird?
Love-hand: This life is precious.
Wisdom-hand: To whom does this life belong?
The bow becomes my life. What we seek all our lives is being given each moment in everything. To be with this is enough.