The Cloaks

It happened to all of us. You meet someone that brightens up your life every time your eyes fall upon their face. It happened with your mother, then friends, then lovers, more friends, maybe a teacher, a child, sometimes even strangers.

You observe them with wonder and see a light that shines so bright you cannot believe its brilliance. A majestic, Divine flawless light that makes your heart sing in recognition of what you also are. You feel light, childlike around them, supreme, important.

Yet this drunkenness of Divine love is often followed by a pang of soberness. A feeling that we weren't seeing and now we can see. We don't grow sober because we realize their imperfections. We grow sober because we cheapen our love with words. Words that turn into concepts that we put on the other like a cloak of flaws because their brilliance is blinding. Blinding not from the truth but from the lies that we have been telling ourselves. Their brilliance is real, but the cloaks are illusions.

We get uncomfortable with their magnificence because it reminds us of our own. And so we put on our picky, critical cloaks on them, one on top of the other till we can't see their light anymore. And we do it not because they are flawed. But because knowing that we too are flawless around them gives us no space to forget our Divinity. Leaves no more space for the small self we have always identified with. Leaves no more excuses not to love completely, openly, madly and limitlessly the way were created to.