echoes from emptiness

game. set. match.

match. set. game. Photo: Shutterstock

 

One of the most prevalent and persistent myths swirling around the concept of awakening, is that those who have been obliterated by the irreversible EUREKA are instantly and henceforth rendered exempt from all the trials of the flesh that plague “the unenlightened”.

The mind loves to employ this fantasy to critique even the sagest of sages. (“How could someone like a Krishnamurti or a Ramana become a victim of cancer?”) But more sneakily, it turns its scorn upon one’s own delicate understanding.

It loves to hold up one’s (so-called) unattractive qualities – one’s addictions, physical ailments and emotional irruptions as proof that one hasn’t understood anything of import. Really.

What sport it is to watch and listen to this chattering, taunting, would-be bully. For a while you return the volleys. But it doesn’t take long to realise it’s a game without end and you grow bored – you know the score already.

So you serve your Ace straight up.

You simply ask whether the rock-solid immensity of Awareness is being affected, in any way, by whatever is coming at it.

The answer is always the same.

Game. Set. Match.

 


Jiddu Krishnamurti

Ramana Maharshi


In tennis, an ace is a legal serve that is not touched by the receiver, winning the point. – Wikipedia

Image: Shutterstock


the shock of seamless intimacy

 
Miriam Louisa Simons: the shock of seamless intimacy

 

when the myth of separation erases itself

from the mind’s story-trove

one free-falls into a view (there’s no choice about it)

that’s viewerless

the shock of seamless intimacy is usually hair-raising

devastating, humbling

no separation! outside & inside – same!

repeat: same!

- – -

all those stories one tells oneself about oneself

and the mythical others

all those resolutions made in the aching lostness:

practice! diligence! discretion!

all those stern exclusions: the egotist, the phoney

the ignorant, the ‘evil’…

all those fantasies about embracing

some Unknowable Immensity

aye

all those comforting conclusions; certitudes acquired

along a streaming lifeline

gone – synapses wiped

- – -

only this Nothing that excludes nothing

remains, on Its knees

utterly undone

fully full

and excruciatingly sweet

- – -

 


Image source unknown. Please notify me if it’s yours, so credit can be given. Thank you.


perhaps it is time?

 
Photo art by Christoffer Relander
 

would you believe me
if I assured you that
you can never be too old
(or too young)
to meet the unborn
deathless Bright
that is your actual identity?

would you believe me
if I whispered that you
and the world appearing
within that radiant
Knowingness
are inseparable
except in thought?

would you believe me
if I said, No, it is not
too late
to turn in, to dive down
into your immensity
and feel loved again by
your own shy Life?

if your days feel deadened
by weariness and futility,
if your world seems fragmented
and full of pain,
I implore you: please
don’t believe or not believe,
but glance, with thoughts
on hold,
at the ever-present invitation
to check this out for yourself
 
perhaps it is time?

 


Multiple exposure portrait by Christoffer Relander


creation is a selfless selfie

Miriam Louisa Simons: Lanzarote aquascape

 

the seeing of It:

the ripples and reflections
the surface and the cool depth
the sun-snatching edges and the calm continuo
the tones, textures, colours

 

the watching of It:

the naming and the recalling
the emotional embroidery, the visceral memories
(pain and pleasure both flushed my cheeks
on that windswept isle in the Canaries)

 

the knowing of It:

all that unfolds before, behind, within and throughout me
as this world I call ‘mine’
shimmers fluidly in a center-less, owner-less
wideawake Aware-ing

 

I am Not,
but the Universe is my Self.

– Shih-T’ou, A.D. 700-790


Image – swimming pool reflections captured on a long-ago vacation; Lanzarote, Canary Islands


 

lessons from the lifeboat

Lessons from the Lifeboat

Seventy years on and still floating along. This morning’s sit sent me scrambling for my pencil and here’s what downloaded – a list of seven treasured wisdoms the old girl has learnt (so far…)

peace

is this rock-solid, inescapable

aware-ing

contentment

is simply the end of seeking

salvation

separation

is a story without verifiable

substance

suffering

is an argument with Life’s

thusness

compassion

is meeting Life’s thusness without

a story

joy

is unbridled delight at Life’s endless

wonderment

grace

is the gift of this unshakeable

understanding

.


Image source


 

have you seen my mind?

I’m not sure what it is about full moons, but they seem to turn on a tap of poetical scribblings here. June’s full moon: it’s cold and audaciously bright as it rises behind the tropical foliage that protects my terrace. Three haiku fall from my pen…

- – -

Bats flying across the full moon, NSW, Australia

 

here’s a state of Grace:

bats flying across full moon -

my webbed wings, aloft

-

what a paradox -

my greedy seeking has ceased

yet nothing was found

-

have you seen my mind?

I can’t find it anywhere

though it’s right in my face!

-

 


Image source


joy

Dervish Dancer
 

there is a joy
that’s neither an emotion nor a feeling;
that’s unaffected by unkind words
spat from spiteful mouths;
that’s unwounded by hurtful gestures -
off-handedness, rudeness, scorn

there is a joy
that pulses on regardless
of the world’s apparent disarray -
the distress, the abuse and denial -
a joy from which one is choicelessly
propelled into impartial action

there is a joy
that has no opposite, or cause;
it can’t be cultivated or contained,
bought or sold,
given or attained,
yet you’ll never escape its presence

there is a joy
that trashes all your
“teacup ideas” of transcendence;
that sets your wild fearless heart
spinning like a dervish
amongst the sorrows of the world

 


Image: Rumi on Facebook


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