Throughout history, meditation adepts, shamans, scientists, philosophers, poets, and artists have pointed to a realm of existence beyond our everyday experience. These realms exist as experiences beyond our norm, so we imbue them with fanciful mystery. Yet it may be that 
these experiences are very ordinary. Maybe we have glimpses of the truth beyond truth all the time. But maybe we fail to recognize these opening into the profound as we scurry from place to place to place. Our earth evolved uniquely to host conscious life, so it is quite rare and precious. It is our home and the incubator that gave birth to a consciousness that can glimpse itself and the possibility beyond itself. Perhaps, it is through human eyes that the universe sees itself. Perhaps by seeing ourselves, we can see the universe.
Caged by gravity and necessity, life came to know itself. If our human mind is an analogue of space, then perhaps the mind itself is vast potential tethered to a limited condition in order to develop an understanding beyond itself. Unlimited consciousness seems to need limited circumstances to develop awareness. Just as the vastness of possibility became manifest as it was tethered and limited to the confines of our planet, so the vastness of our mind is held in a sense of self. This sense of self is an awareness of being to which we identify. It is a protective encasement that acts as an incubator for development of our limited consciousness into the wisdom from which it came. But that incubator becomes a cage when we believe this is who we are and all we know. The power of our consciousness becomes locked within itself and can see only projections of itself. This cage, strengthened by personal and societal beliefs, becomes seemingly solid and permanent. This fabricated self lies in dissonance to the dynamic space around it. We hold to the belief that we are solid and permanent, while everything around us changes. This dissonance creates friction that we feel as suffering. The stronger our cage, the more we are protected from the vicissitude of reality, yet the more isolated we are from the vastness of our potential. And hence, we suffer.
While many spiritual traditions attempt to see beyond the cage, Mahayana Buddhism attempts to understand both the cage and the space beyond. Compassion is a conversation between the absolute and the relative in which we develop our provisional, limited consciousness into a consciousness that knows itself and has the capacity to lead others to that liberation. Glimpsing the matrix that underlies reality can be a profound experience. But we have to develop a skill that allows us to communicate this experience to others. If carefully traveled, this wisdom path offers glimpses of an experience beyond life that offers a sense of compassion, caring and clarity. These glimpses of a larger perspective can offer more clarity to the cage with which we are and ensconced.
So, what is the cage and why would we choose to be here?
The cage is a protective encasement that allows us to grow. It provisionally separates us from everything else, so we naturally develop an identity. This sense of self is a fiction fabricated solely to provide a reference point for our development. But it is not real in that it does not have the solid capacities we attribute to it. The problem is that we are trapped in this constraint before we have a chance to develop our relative awareness, so we fail to see our connection to all life. We begin to discriminate. And so doing, we separate life experience into for and against, good or bad, right or wrong. The system becomes complicated when our survival instincts become fused to these imaginary designations. And so we fight to protect ourselves from that which we have come to believe is wrong, or against, or evil. And in these dualistic battles, we become so self-centered that we fail to see anything, including ourselves, with much clarity. Trapped within the confines of our cage, the vast potential of mind has only itself to see. Locked in this room of mirrors, we are reduced to iterations of what we have seen before. We weave our cage from the protective patterns of past experience and live a life much smaller than we might. Taken to its extreme, this cage is an imprisonment. But the light of awareness shines through these walls regardless. We are trained to look away from the light and try and decipher the shadows. But every time we look up, or each time life interrupts our planning, we create a gap in the wall. Every time we bring our mind back from delusion to the breath, we widen the cracks.
And what of the space beyond the cage?
If we look at the universe for clues to our mind we see that there are so many possibilities. But most of these possibilities are deadly. Most of the space beyond our world is inhospitable to the development of consciousness. So, it is said that life as we know it is exceedingly rare and precious. And perhaps this is why we cling to it with such tenacity. Yet in that panicked clinging, we lose sight of the larger picture around our cage. We tend to think the cage is all there is. So, it is the path of a wisdom tradition not to reinforce what we believe we are, but to develop toward openness of possibility so we might become. So, we don’t know what is in the space beyond the cage, so it would be wise to develop slowly and carefully. It is said that when we move beyond space, we look back to the cage with understanding and compassion. We are excited for our liberation as we are compassionate toward our imprisonment. The key to this gentle opening of the spirit, is that with each careful incremental step we take, we stop to see the view. And what we see is excitement for our liberation and sadness toward the imprisonment of the world. There is no way to convey our larger perspectives to the world. Our work is to learn to translate our experience in words that can be heard. The key to this translation is remembering how we felt. So, we are not jettisoning into space. We are rising slowly with the understanding that we are not alone, but connected to all.
The development of compassion is essential. That as we develop ourselves to see, we learn to see with eyes of love. Otherwise, what we see is antagonistic. And antagonism or aggression of any sort is a shutting down. Only thru the eyes of love can we see with any clarity. Only with eyes of love can we see truth.
And so, we dedicate our journey to the liberation of all beings. We wish that we and all beings may develop the mind to see beyond itself, so that we have the eyes to see ourselves.
A slow uncovering of the wounds that bind us, is an apt description of the path of compassion. Understanding and transforming our pain is a common motivator for the path. Many of us came to the path because we were in pain. There is nothing like a broken heart to introduce us to meditation. But once that heart has mended, or once we get tired of that broken song, what is it that prompts us to continue on the path?
So how can we help anyone, when we ourselves are wounded? We talk about “opening the heart”. But what does that mean? Usually, this statement evokes feelings of empathy, communication, and kindness. But doesn’t opening the heart also release the pain that we have been protecting and the suffering we are protecting ourselves against? When we began the path our wounds were the source of antagonism and aggression. In an attempt to protect ourselves from a future projection of past violence we struck out against actual or imagined danger. However, it may be that these wounds are also the source of empathy, communication, and kindness. The “Lion’s Roar” may be that the wounds we guard in embarrassed secrecy may be our gateway to compassion. When we have worked the path of self-discovery, we get what it is to be human. And because of this, we understand what humans need. Opening the heart is simply relaxing the protective tension with which we gird ourselves. As this cocoon is protecting us from real, imagined or remembered pain, we must respect it. Opening the heart is not about aggression at all. Opening the heart is acceptance and release.
Pema Chodron speaks of suffering as having created a wound in our heart. All of us have those wounds. Pema suggests that we cover the wound to protect it, as we would a physical wound. However, with a physical wound we remove the bandaid for it to heal under the sun. But emotional wounds often remain covered, and so healing is compromised. We become embarrassed of the wounds, somehow believing we are the only ones. Because they don’t heal in the shadows, the wound becomes sensitive to touch. We are constantly bumping into the wound, and flincing through life trying to protect ourselves from the pain. This creates more suffering. Yet, the saddest part of this is how we are denying the very thing that makes us unique. No one notices perfect trees in the forest. We notice the trees that are gnarled and curled from lightning, bent by wind or darkened by fire. These trees have character. And our pain gives us character. Lightning struck trees don’t feel embarrassed about themselves. Nor do three legged dogs. Nor do blues musicians, or poets as they express their pain. Is there a form of life on earth that judges itself as much as humans do? There is a song by The Big Moon that goes “trouble doesn’t last forever. The trouble is that memories do.” 
acknowledge and hold our fears, rather than be controlled by them. The cradle of loving kindness is the gentle firmness of the body opening to the experience of fear. Rather than constricting our feelings in a body of tension, we are holding our fear with openness.
On the other hand, should we STOP and FEEL into our present experience rather than be driven by fear, we can acknowledge and hold it with open arms.