I’m looking only at You. I can see only You. I’m looking only at You. I can see only You. I’m looking only at You. I can see only You. I’m looking only at You. I can see only You.
I keep repeating it like a mantra and staring at this big painted icon hung somewhere up on a wall in an orthodox church in a monastery, on the left of a stained glass window overlooking the sea somewhere in a high place in Greece.
As I’m doing my spiritual practice, I’m tormented by his feeling of guilt as my eyes have slid from the icon to a small patch of transparent glass through which I can get a glimpse of a blue piece of the sea and the sun shining above it. For a fraction of a second I can feel the salt in the water and I can see the fish swimming and the waves rising, washing the feet of the seagulls having their breakfast. Temptation. The temptation of the world. My eyes are drawn to this small patch of transparent glass like sharks to a drop of blood in the ocean.
And then I see the temple in Cambodia and my bare feet walking along the stone corridors. Everything is sacred and I am smiling all the time. Every pore is smiling, every organ, every body part, my whole being. And I look closely at everything – every speck of dust, every petal, every leaf, every stone. Here it’s easy, I’m thinking as it all comes back to me again, filling me with pure joy.
And what is it that you think you can look at in this world that doesn’t have me in it? Is there anything you can see in which you cannot see both me and you? There is nothing in this world of which I am not a part and of which you are not a part. See me in everything. Everywhere you look discover me and discover yourself. Look without fear. Let the light flood you. Look into the light, the answer is whispered in my heart.