Lose Yourself In Love

So for the last week or so I’ve been feeling a little blech.

A little tired.
A little overextended.
A little rough around the edges.

Plus I had food poisoning. Which was totally sucktastic.

Pretty much all of this blech is caused by an old habit I have. A habit of working way too hard for way too long. Of being a slave to my calendar and to-do list. Of not giving myself enough time to rest.

Can I get a witness?

This is totally a relic from my old cubicle days. A relic, which, by the way, seriously sucks ass.

I’m way better than I was even a year ago. But it’s a work in progress. And by work in progress I mean still happens way more than I’d like.

And it’s not the work itself. Because I totally love what I do. As cliché as it sounds, if I won the lottery tomorrow I’d keep doing this sacred sound thing.

So the work isn’t the problem.

It’s the doing-my-best-impression-of-the-frakking-Energizer-Bunny that’s so ick-inducing. Going and going and going way past the time that the light on the dash comes on, reminding me that it’s time to refill.

Time. To. Refill.
Oh right. That.

So I’ve been thinking about what I can do to fill up, to refuel, to give this bunny a break already.

And I keep coming back to this one thing:

Lose yourself in love.

I get that that may sound like a liberal helping of hippie topped with some self-help-ey sprinkles, but it’s really something way less annoying way bigger than that.

Here’s the deal

KD & me

Krishna Das & my shaved headed self

I saw Krishna Das in April. Twice.

He played Indy and then Cincinnati. So over the course of three days I got to rock out to six hours of kirtan. Which is about as rad as it gets.

I’ve talked about Krishna Das before. Aside from the fact that his music absolutely rocks my world, he’s one of the big reasons why I started chanting.

Anyway, during the kirtan in Indy he told this story about his guru, Maharaj-ji.

The Reader’s Digest version is that one day this guy came to see Maharaj-ji. And he asked him to teach him how to meditate. Maharaj-ji, who wasn’t much into formal teaching, told him just to meditate like Christ and sent him away.

The guy had no idea what that meant.

Meditate like Christ? Wha?

So later somebody asked Maharaj-ji exactly how Christ meditated. They were on the edge of their seat, expecting some crazy complex or uber esoteric answer.

Maharaj-ji closed his eyes and got really, really still. He didn’t say or do anything for a long time. Then a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Maharaj-ji opened his eyes and said He lost himself in love.

A one-two punch

So here I am listening to Krishna Das tell this story. And I’m feeling like he just delivered something that was a crazy cross between a one-two punch and the answer to all of my questions.

He lost himself in love.

This landed with all the force of a Mack truck. It hit hard, went deep and reverberated all around my insides. I could totally feel the bigness in my bones.

And it made me cry. In the middle of a packed auditorium. With a six year old kid sitting next to me. Staring at me like I was a kooky pook.

He lost himself in love.

This one line sums up what I’ve been looking for my whole life. And why I do what I do. And why sacred sound is pretty much the most fantabulous thing ever.

So why was I crying?

Because I felt like it had all come together for me in that moment. And because I realized how much I need to lose myself in love.

Walls. Panic. Projects.

After the kirtan, this whole he lost himself in love business kept rolling around in my head. A lot. Like I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I was trying to remember the times this had happened for me. And I was seriously bummed when I thought I could count the times on one hand.

One hand.

So I figured this was something I needed to do more. I mean, this thing rang me like a bell. I should, um, make it a project or something.

How do you lose yourself in love?
How the hell do I know?

Then came the freaking out part.

You know, the part where I started to panic, thinking I’d lose this big thing that just rocked my world and answered all my questions and made me cry in front of a transfixed six year old.

The thing that I totally wanted needed to do way more often. But couldn’t, because I, uh, didn’t have the foggiest idea how.

I felt totally stupid. And clueless. And panicked. (Did I mention the panic? Yeah, good times.)

This all felt like a big mystery to me. One that was too big to figure out. Much less actually do.

Oh, that.

Then I started thinking about the things that really blow me away. The transcendent stuff. The healing stuff. The refills-me-no-matter-how-acked-out-I-feel stuff.

I get lost in love every time I pick up and drum and drum until my hands are numb, and keep drumming anyway.

Or when I chant until I’m one big head-to-toe tingle.

Or when I follow the sound of a singing bowl to some place way bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.

Or when, before the sun comes up, I sit in the total silence of the morning, feeling like there’s just one great big presence, instead of a bunch of separate-ey bits.

Or pretty much anytime I hang out with sacred sound.

That’s how I lose myself in love.

This isn’t hard or complicated  at all. It’s way closer to home than I thought. And it’s happened way more than a handful of times.


It’s contagious

When I bump into love like this, I feel like I’m standing in the middle of something that’s as gorgeous as it is ginormous. And the great big gorgeousness of it all obliterates me for a few seconds. In the best possible way.

It’s like I’m gently taken apart, and all the crap is totally cleaned out. All the inner bits are pressure washed by this liquid-ey love-ey stuff, while some ooh-ey goo-ey goodness fills up the places where tired and overwhelmed and utterly acked out used to hang out.

When I’m put back together, I’m all shiny and new again. It’s like someone just hit the reset button.


And I swear the ginormousness is crazy contagious. After one of these ooh-ey goo-ey fill ups, I have way more space inside of me than I did before. Space where I’m clear. And in my groove. Totally rockin’ and rollin’.

So, yeah, that’s how it happens for me.

How about you? How do you lose yourself in this big delicious something that is awesome and healing and magic and fantabulous?

And when is the last time you did it? Is it time to top up?

The calendar and the to-do list and the Energizer Bunny can wait. This can’t. And I’m saying that to me as much as you.

I don’t have all this figured out. I just know that getting lost in love is a really good thing. A really necessary thing. And not just when we feel blech.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with a singing bowl.


If you want to hear Krishna Das tell the Maharaj-ji story himself, check this out. The story starts about two minutes in, but the whole thing is worth watching. He’s super funny. Plus he tells the story way better than I do.

Because I felt like it had all come together for me in that moment. And because I realized how much I need to lose myself in love.

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18 Responses to Lose Yourself In Love
  1. Gina
    September 24, 2009 | 9:35 am

    How do I do this? A good question, though I know I do.

    It happens whenever I see my fellow humans breaking open. Being vulnerable. Feeling pain. Even on tv. I know.. sucker. But it reminds me that when we split open… what flows out is common to all of us, to me. and then nothing else matters. I remember why I’m here, which is just to love that. Love all of it. Put my hands on people and let them know in some small way that they are not alone. That I’m not alone.
    .-= Gina´s last blog ..Bless that Big Mac! =-.

  2. Mark
    September 24, 2009 | 11:03 am

    Beautiful post! All I could do is smile as I read your words. Krishna Das has helped me get lost too. 🙂
    .-= Mark´s last blog ..Entrepreneurs can Change the World =-.

  3. Marguerite Manteau-Rao
    September 24, 2009 | 2:32 pm

    Thank you! You and I must be on the same wave length this morning 🙂 (see my blog post, on A Love Meditation:


    With much love,


  4. Wormy
    September 24, 2009 | 4:52 pm

    Oooh, loose yourself in love – love, love, love it. Oops, sorry about the pun. 🙂

    This post made me smile and giggle to myself and it reminded me that there’s no limit to going to bed with Reiki every night and just plugging in.

    That’s how I loose myself in love, how I connect to something where I feel I am both creator and create-ee (if that is a word…ok, it isn’t I totally made it up).

    You reminded me that I absolutely do not spend enough time immersed in it, because I feel I have to *need* it. Ah – balance – what a slippery eel you are my friend.

    Thank you my dear – you completely rock.
    .-= Wormy´s last blog ..A Most Terrible Word… =-.

  5. Lilly
    September 24, 2009 | 5:16 pm

    This was a wonderful post. That feeling of losing yourself in love is why I enjoy being an artist, because it gets me to that place. I am a workaholic and am currently practicing trying to hold the love feeling, while I work. To extend it from weekend to weekend, the times of the week I paint.

    I just noticed after I got back from a vacation where I looked at a lot of art, that the love feeling is more important than the stress and worry feeling, and probably more pertinent and real to my life anyway. Great post!

  6. Tommy Crenshaw
    September 24, 2009 | 5:43 pm

    For those of us who never met Maharaj-ji and yet feel a deep connection with him… this piece really opens us up to experience his presence in a profound, beautiful way.

    It is a privilege to lose myself in love, to shed the crap that isn’t serving me- no need to gain anything! Just open and re-member who I am.

    Thanks for this reminder Fabeku-

    In love,

  7. tara
    September 24, 2009 | 6:38 pm

    Oh yes.
    I’ve felt this in prayerful moments in a beautiful church service.
    I’ve felt in while smiling into Jay’s eyes.
    I felt it the first time I really looked at my baby brother, who looked back with trust and peace.

    But to bring it into my life? On a regular basis?
    It needs to be done!
    .-= tara´s last blog ..What’s challening about learning to knit? =-.

  8. Annie
    September 24, 2009 | 6:42 pm

    This is so timely for me. I, too, have been a victim of PWE (protestant work ethic) syndrome, and the moments I spend NOT feeding my family haunt me like that bowl of cream of wheat that used to follow the kid around in the ads. It’s a 70’s thing, you may not understand.

    Today, as I was trying not to live in low income fear, I forced myself to play some scrabble before returning to my work. I design sweaters, I knit for a living.

    I am so, SO lucky to be able to live the love just about every day – my joy grows, I feel so much passion about my work and love for those I teach (I also teach knitting) that when I have the “I’m scared” moments they just feel odd.

    I turned on Hilliard Ensemble. I sat and watched the cat nap. I picked up some knitting that I wanted to do just beause I WANT to. And I may even play some tetris.

    Love you back!

  9. Katie Schroth
    September 24, 2009 | 7:08 pm

    Lose yourself in love – I guess I never thought of it in those terms, yet often the highlight of my day is a quiet walk at noon. I walk in the local reserve and feel deep gratitude for the peace and healing and quiet. There is a small pond there with a porch swing and a short bridge to the swing, so it’s a bit over the water. I love to just sit there. Sometimes I just close my eyes and listen. Sometimes I knit. Sometimes I look for wild life. Sometimes the enthusiastic joggers (many of whom I know) yell hello as they run by. Sometimes someone stops to chat. Sometimes I am oblivious to it all. Yet I always come away more peaceful, refreshed, rejuvenated.

    I was talking to the Reserve Director one day and he told me that they replace the swing often – No not due to vandalism. The reserve is on a college campus and many students have fallen in love in exactly that spot and ask to purchase the swing! I suppose it is a romantic quiet place, but maybe they are not only feeling love for each other, but the love that surrounds us if we just take the time to stop and listen and feel and let go.

    Fabeku, thank you for sharing your thoughts and the great link to KD. While you re-told his story well, there was something deeply moving about listening to and seeing him tell of that extraordinary moment.

  10. Jessica Reagan Salzman
    September 24, 2009 | 8:52 pm

    Ahhhhhhh, yes. Losing myself in the love. Happens whenever I sit down and make the space. And also, whenever I’m helping someone else, whether through words, healing hands, creative work product, or silent connection. Actually happens quite a bit on Twitter too!

    Sending you love tonight Fabeku! Thank you for being you. 🙂

  11. Wendy Cholbi
    September 24, 2009 | 11:31 pm

    Two thoughts immediately popped up, jostling to be first:

    1. Music can have this effect on me. Not all music, obviously. But there have definitely been times. And what I’m seeing for the first time right now is that although that’s a pleasurable experience, I also find it kind of scary. The losing myself. The filling with great swells of emotion and space and perspective. So I don’t let it happen much…by depriving myself of music. And I feel sad, now, thinking of that. And am telling myself that maybe I can start to let some music in, after all.

    2. The other place I feel this is with Dance of Shiva. Short-circuiting my brain and then allowing my body to rest in shavasana is just so so so delicious. I am brought back to me, to the core of me, to the experience of being in my body and just being. Hard to describe.

    Now, imagine if I could do Dance of Shiva… with music! I think I might explode. And I want to know what that feels like.

    Thank you for writing this deeply personal post, and for sharing it.
    .-= Wendy Cholbi´s last blog ..Nature creates everything, even businesses (Heart-Centered Tech Tip) =-.

  12. Dharmamama
    September 25, 2009 | 10:22 am

    “This isn’t hard or complicated at all. It’s way closer to home than I thought. And it’s happened way more than a handful of times.”

    How cool! That moment when, you realize: oh! It’s right here! And it’s been here this whole time.

    My story with that: I knew I was meant to be a healer, but I didn’t know what that would look like. I decided to concentrate on my priority, my sons and unschooling, and trust that whatever it was would reveal itself to me in time.

    I got more into playing West African music, I went to camps and workshops. During one workshop by Mamady Keita, who filled the room with his presence and love just by walking into it, other attendees and I went to lunch. I had often thought I wanted to spread drumming wherever I could, particularly to young people. But this one guy had just led a healing rhythms workshop at a senior center, and told the story of how one previously unresponsive man was tapping his foot, just barely, in time with the rhythms. The nurses said it was the most he had voluntarily moved in *years*.

    Walking back to the workshop, walking with my new friends, it hit me: Drumming is healing. Drumming is healing, and I *know* how to drum. It was, literally, an angels coming out and singing, sunbeam shining down on me moment.

    That was five years ago, and I love how each moment has played out, leading me exactly where I need to be.

    Oh! It’s right here! Ready for me to jump into, for me to lose myself in love.
    .-= Dharmamama´s last blog ..What I Offer =-.

  13. TattyFraney
    September 25, 2009 | 11:12 am

    wow… to lose oneself in love… that’s such a wonderful concept, but

    somewhat weird as well. i don’t know that i know how to do that…

    i never refuel. ever. i keep rolling until i collapse and end up bed-ridden for a week. then it’s rolling again. i am getting near collapse now, i can feel it. maybe this time i will refuel before collapse. tomorrow i will make a date with my singing bowl. and i will massage my feet. and i might even not turn on the computer.

    baby steps, right?
    .-= TattyFraney´s last blog ..Global Edition # 19 =-.

  14. Donna Bruschi
    September 28, 2009 | 4:08 pm

    It’s the place I come from–not always, but my babies taught me how to love. My outdoor times give me an endless supply. My Ex gave me a map to all of those places that would not love. My soulmate healed the sore places and held them until I could heal them myself. I am blessed.

    And now, I try to pass it on as often as much as I can.

  15. Fabeku
    September 28, 2009 | 9:16 pm

    Hey peeps! Thanks for your comments.

    After I wrote this I took a few days to rest. Which was helpful. And I spent lots of time hanging out with singing bowls, and drums. And chanting twice a day. So, yeah, I’m feeling a ton better.

    And now I wanted to catch up with you fabulous folks.

    @Gina – There is something really incredible that happens when someone opens up and becomes transparent. It’s one of those big-mojo moments. All that transparency allows something pretty big and pretty beautiful to shine through. And what you said about letting people know they’re not alone? I teared up. Sometimes I think just knowing that can save someone’s life, really.

    @Mark – Big yays for KD and the goodness that he shares with so many of us.

    @Marguerite – Thanks for sharing your meditation. Good schtuff!

    @Wormy – I totally hope you’ve been wrapping yourself awesome self in Reiki every single night. And filling up and loving it. Because you rock. And isn’t it weird how easy it is to get stuck in the trap of not doing something gorgeous for ourselves because we don’t feel we need it? Wha? We need it and deserve it every single minute of every single day.

    @Lilly – I think that’s a pretty awesome thing to be working on – holding the love between the weekends. That feels like real live enlightenment to me. Not the stuff that happens when one is alone on a mountaintop. That’s easy. The hard part – and the beautiful part – is doing it day to day. So the fact that you’re working on this? Absolutely awesome and inspiring and gorgeous.

    @Tommy – I’m glad my tiny little words were helpful in some way, and KD gets all the credit for pointing the way to Maharaj-ji. I was so rocked by what he shared that I had to write about it. And what you said about there not being a need to gain anything feels really true for me.

    @Tara – I could feel the connection you had with every thing you mentioned. It feels like a great big huge gift to have these moments where we plug into this bigger love. And I completely agree about making it a regular part of life. It does feel pretty essential.

    @Annie – What you wrote made me clap my hands together. For real. Not because of the ack. But because of how you met it and that you did stuff to fill up. I really think that when we’re full there’s just less room for the ack. It’s like filling up hangs a big old no vacancy sign on the front door. And yay you for being at a place where the scared stuff feels out of place! Woot!

    @Katie – I love that you mentioned nature, and all the good schtuff you experience when you’re there. And the story about the swing? So so cool. When I find someplace really gorgeous, it seems like I just fill up automatically. Just being outside in some fabulous place is awesome and healing and completely restorative.

    @Jess – Making the space seems like one of the really critical parts, doesn’t it? It may be the most important part, really. I know, for me, the pattern of working too hard is all about space – filling it all up with work, and not leaving room to refill. Making space is so important. And thanks for the love and good vibes.

    @Wendy – I can so relate on the music front. And I will gently yay you on toward letting some more music in. Slowly, in whatever way is comfortable for you. And yeah, the Dance of Shiva is outrageous in its awesomeness and beauty and totally-beyond-words-iness. And thanks for your thanks. This was kind of a hard post to write.

    @Dharmamama – Your story made me smile ear to ear, like a great big drum-lovin’ fool. Isn’t it cool how this stuff just comes together, how the pieces start to line up without us doing much to make it happen? Then *boom* the road is all clear and gorgeous? I love it. And Mamady Keita? Blows. My. Mind.

    @Tatty – I felt the same after I heard KD talk about it. It sounded great, but what could I do with it? It felt like it was a million miles away. I really struggled with this a lot – feeling like it was great in theory, but impossible in practice. So if there’s anything that gives you some joy, maybe start there. And see where it leads. You may find this really isn’t that far off. Methinks the singing bowl can also help too. This really did feel impossible to me, so I get what you’re saying totally.

    @Donna – I’m glad you’ve been able to plug into this in so many different ways. And passing it on seems like a really good thing too.

  16. Natalia
    October 11, 2009 | 3:32 pm

    what a precious post!

    hmm…yoga can do this to me. playing guitar used to (when i played it). drawing/painting. i’d like to have more ways to get there. thanks for the inspiration.
    .-= Natalia´s last blog ..Hello there! =-.

  17. Angel
    April 9, 2011 | 6:01 pm

    Wow… here again, wow.

    ‘He lost himself in love’ (just put that on a sticky note and set on my monitor… so I CANNOT forget, even if i try to ;-))

    Thinking now about how I lose myself in love and when it last happened. I wish I didn’t have to actually *think* about it.

    Still… another fantabulous post Fabeku.

    Thank you 🙂

    Jeez… still thinking. I think this has started something that will lead to a post!

  18. Fabeku
    April 10, 2011 | 7:26 pm

    Amazing story, isn’t it?

    Glad you dug it.

    I think about this one a lot. It gets me tear-ey every time.

    Big mojo there.

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