You can see eternity in a newborn's eyes.
flickr:miss pupikmiss pupik
Look into these eyes.
Even in a picture, you can see eternity looking back at you.
These eyes are unobstructed by personality. That hasn't been formed...yet.
Something alive is smiling back.
There's no attempt to hide from being seen.
No trying to be more than what he is.
No fear that he is not enough.
Just two weeks ago, I became a grandmother for the fourth time.
Each time is just as wondrous.
Each child a pure miracle.
Each one completely unique.
I've fallen in love with my new grandson.
(This is not him here, in this picture. His parents get to share him with the world.)
He is so sweet and beautiful.
I wonder who he is and what he'll love to do.
I was thinking about this, that once, a long time ago, this was me.
No sense of not-enoughness.
This is what the sacred looks like when it hasn't forgotten that it is sacred.
This is what the sacred looks like when there is no concept of 'sacred'.
And, even when we do 'forget' and replace our awareness of life with our concepts of life,
the same eternal radiance is looking out our eyes, very much still aware of our true nature.
As I held my grandson for the first time, I knew I was in the presence of this radiance.
I could feel it.
I could see it.
I could sense it.
It wasn't a perfect moment, and it wasn't perfectly still or quiet at all.
He's a newborn baby: crying, farting, sleeping, and gurgling.
That's the point, if there is a point.
Look in your mirror and, without trying to see, see what is there, already there.
The personality wants to think it is something other.
Notice, just notice, that you already know you aren't something other.
You are the same as what is looking at you from these glorious newborn's eyes.