In my last three essays I’ve chosen to write about a new spiritual practice that is, in its own way, creating a new world: a new way of being, and it’s just at the beginning. I wrote at the end of the last essay: “In this reality that we are exploring together, there is no weight, nothing to work out, nothing to solve, no karma. Just a depth of oneness and love.

You might ask: Is this really possible? It becomes clear that some new way of being together wants to be known and expressed and lived.”

How to explain this reality that we access in the mutual awakening practice?

It’s like we are celebrating certain qualities that are imbued in the space and in us – qualities like love, joy, depth, innocence, exuberance, even sadness.

For example, when I say “love”, it’s not like “falling in love,” or loving the person we’re practicing with; it’s more like we are immersed in the essence of love that includes the two people but is so much greater than the two. The whole environment exudes light; a reality that is on such a different frequency – so refined, and subtle that one can barely find the words.

Words may seem even clumsy at times, not quite fitting, not touching the subtlety that one is immersed in.

And still, one deeply knows how good this reality is.

We enter this new dimension together. It’s dependent upon us. It cannot be done alone. And as I said before, so often this milieu, this realm of being we are inhabiting and graced with, truly goes beyond our known vocabulary which can seem very one-dimensional and dare I say even shallow compared to what we experience in this shared envelopment, this divine milieu. And yet, paradoxically, it’s ever important that we do find words, that we do speak as the words, the sounds, even when not quite understood, enhance, deepen, expand where we are dwelling together.

People often ask when first getting involved in this practice how it will manifest in their life? It’s not a therapy and it’s not sitting on the pillow in meditation. It’s a new practice that involves always at least two people.

When I look back on myself – I did not try and change; I did not try to be less neurotic, less self-obsessed, less of anything that one might call conditional or restricting. The image that comes to mind is of a rocky landscape that has water running over it all the time and almost imperceptibly, those rocks get smoother, change shape, reconfigure. But the rocks weren’t trying to change; no, merely the running water changed the whole landscape over time.

In the same way of water running over rocks and changing them, I didn’t try and change but I was changed almost imperceptibly until as I look back now after about 11 years, I am different or let’s say the same but without so much self-concern, worry and doubt. When that drops away, there is so much more joy, well-being, and sense of freedom.

And then it’s beautiful to see others transform and in a larger way, to experience the practice itself transforming and deepening and simultaneously the “we”, the whole group transforming, becoming ever more refined, more cohesive, smoother and light.