I have a deep longing in me. I became slightly aware of it when I was about twenty years old. I have become more aware of of the longing as years have passed and as I have become more free in experiencing it. It has been a gradual letting go, a gradual falling into a void.
The longing expresses itself in many ways and many sources. I am aware of it many times, but especially when I notice that it is reciprocated. People, animals, plants and places can all be an object of my longing. The occasion of longing may be as simple as smiles exchanged when passing in the skyway, a deep hug, the eyes of a dog, a walk in a beloved community of plants.
I am no longer surprised or puzzled when the longing happens. I am increasingly aware that we are all connected in the fabric of universe, animate and inanimate beings alike. I have moments when this connection is more clearly experienced. There are moments when I relax into the connection and the longing to be close surges through my body. Never to be grasped or possessed, the object of my longing persists and the glow of its presence fills moments, hours and days afterwards.
I feel this longing when I look at my blooming amaryllis and when I look around at all those seated in a circle in my Sangha. I feel this longing when a friend comes through my door or I look out my window at the snow covered yard. I know that the intimacy is already there, and I have but to allow myself to experience it.
For me, it is simply a matter of letting go and falling into the presence of whatever or whomever is there before me. For some, this is what they call falling in love, into love.
Perhaps it is special, but it has become more and more of an habitual experience of mine. Falling into the experience of longing is the way I choose to live.