Dr Marie Christina

Who am I?

The other day my truest teacher reflected back to me: your path is not the yogic path, your path is not the tantric path… and so on.

It is not merely the path of this or that, but ALL. All is medicine for those with eyes to see and ears to hear. All is here.

And without a single loop through cognizant understanding, the whole body sighed.

Something big in my being deeply dropped, in the being witnessed in the pathlessness. It’s how it feels. More than a path that has been walked before, it feels a juicy, dark-luminous homecoming, a ‘falling back into’ and emerging into and unbecoming into. Full of life, spicy margaritas. Big belly laughter and tears. Sweetnesses beyond measure. Vision and visionlessness. Joy and tender expanse and quiet sensuousness. Flirty morning coffees to the song of a million bird-friends and sweet wind on bare naked skin.

Roaring alive, sweet, without doubt.

No rules, no limits, no map, no treasure hunt reimagined, sometimes the feeling of a compass but always moving into the center and dissolving there. The place where names drop. Words dissolve. Silence suffices.

I tried to put words to it in Satsang: the deepening of the origin. This is how it felt. Like resting back, deeper and deeper into the starting point, which keeps deepening. Fuller, emptier, more intense. Like falling into - and becoming - the eye and the heart of the sun.

Poetry is here flirtatious, sensuous, rich. Luminous, sweet as honey. Quiet. Wild. All and none of the above.

What is called poetry here, even, is the only spoken and heard language that makes sense. Senses explode in themselves, without form flipping them on. They’re always humming, online.

Juicy. Alive. Ferocious. Yes. Yummy.

All is Love and luminous Being, here.

The pathless path, unimagined.

♡