On the Patience of my Angel

The last weeks have been more busy than expected and I have been traveling a lot for my job. Yesterday night I returned home from the airport by taxi and listened to this song while the black fields were rushing along my window.

I hadn’t done my daily exercises and for various private and business reasons I also had to delay the next Arbatel ritual much longer than I had hoped to... Suddenly it dawned on me how patient my angel is with me. I hadn’t cared for him most of my adult life and now I dictate small pockets of time during which we can meet - and whenever I am there, he is waiting for me already.

What kind of self-less love is it that our angels feel for us? Where else in nature do we find this kind of devotion where the tall cares for the small in such a self-less way? When I am entering into my angel’s body and dissolve in it for short periods of time it is nothing but love and gnosis that I experience. Yet, when I am busy earning my living, spending my days unconscious of his presence, involved in petty affairs he is patiently waiting for me.

I feel deeply embarrassed and humbled by his ability to love and ask for nothing in return.  How come we deserve such a force, a might and glory being put over our little lifes? There is is nothing I can give back in return... It truly is a relationship of unequals. It is me who is constantly taking, recharging from him, elevating my frequency through his presence - without being able to give back in any terms, and certainly not in equal.

The words of the song I mentioned above come to my mind...

I gave you my body and you ate a plenty

I gave you ten lives and you wasted twenty

Now I’m standing empty, helpless and bare

Without a morsel left of me to give

My angel’s most recent advice to me was simply and clear as always: “

Bind your love to things

.” What he encouraged me to do was not to


my heart in the things and matters I deal with, but to


. He advised me to share his love and bind it to the things I 

A ribbon around

incense of Venus

encounter in my life, irrespective of their perceived worthiness. Because if I am worthy of his love, then the trash can on the street is certainly worthy of my love... I have tried to follow his advise since then and it still is a liberating experience - going through my days not being concerned with how they can help me to grow and mature, but how I can bind my love to them?

The way I think of ‘

binding my love to things

’ is simple, like a ribbon you wrap around a present. Something that is humble and plain in its expression and doesn’t change the nature of the things I touch, but leaves a mark of love on them. I try to leave a lot of ribbons on my way these days, to share his love wherever possible and wherever my tiny conscious allows... Sometimes I bind ribbons around the food I eat, around my dog during the morning walk, around the keyboard I am typing on right now, around the stewardess on the plane who is stressed, around my anger when it tries to raise from my gut, around the tiredness in my eyes, around the neck of my wife and around the people I meet.

Maybe this can become a craft? Being a ribbon binder around the things I encounter. The Chassid called this process


: freeing the divine sparks of light from the shells of the material realm through devotion, awareness and love. Maybe this is the way how our love can become a love of equals? Well, probably as "equal" as the love between water and its river bed...

In a wonderful


I currently read the author Brad Blanton says:

“If you have never truly embarrassed yourself by what you had to say about yourself, you don't know shit from shinola about transformation.”

I guess this is a good expression for how embarrassed I feel about my inability to bind love to the most simple thing in my live. But it seems we are bound together by a ribbon of love...  

I gave you a child and you didn’t want it

That’s the most I have to give

I gave you a house and you didn’t haunt it

Now where am I supposed to live?

I gave you a tree and you did not embrace it

I gave you a nightmare and you didn’t chase it

I’d gave you a dream and you’d only wake from it

Now I’ll never go to sleep again

I’d give you a treasure and you’d only take from it

Look at the hole where juwlery had been

Baby, oh baby, why must you escape from it

This love that once called our friend?

I gave you my body and you ate a plenty

I gave you ten lives and you wasted twenty

Now I’m standing empty, helpless and bare

Without a morsel left of me to give

And oyu have vanished into the air

The air in which I must breathe

Superwolf - “I Gave You”

Frater Acher3 Comments