memo to mind

Dear team-member:


It has come to our notice that you’ve been indulging

in speculation, prediction,

definition and generalisation


what it will be/is like after “awakening” occurs,

how to recognise an “awake” human being,

and even the degree of your own “awakening.”


 In other words, you’ve been snoozing on the job

and entertaining yourself in an indisious dream

in which you assume some kind of god-identity

and dish out judgement.


Not good teamwork, comrade Mind!


Speculation only serves to separate,

and we all know this team is a seamless unit;

seamless, spacious and silent.


What is your life about, anyway?
Nothing but a struggle to be someone.
Nothing but a running from your own silence.
– Rumi


We note that you get very edgy around silence.

(Your earnest claim of being no one

shatters silence as effectively as any “struggle to be someone.”)


Arthur Boyd, Sleeping Woman with Dragonfly and Watching Figure, c.1964


Dear comrade,

have you noticed

the iridescent miracle

hovering at the window of wonderment?


Are you aware

of the Beloved’s presence,

eyes bloodshot from its sleepless lifelong vigil?


Have you marvelled

at the way the life-stream flows on, inevitably,

without minding (without minding).


– – –


Please reconsider your function and report back.
Thank you.  You are a valued member of the team.


Arthur Boyd (1920 – 1999), Sleeping Woman with Dragonfly and Watching Figure c.1964
Pastel on paper, 48.5 x 63.0 cm

Apologies to Arthur Boyd for hijacking his artwork for poetic purposes.


please take these offerings

Today – another tick in the annual count for she-who-scribbles while her spacecraft steers itself around the sun.

Sitting watching the morning star rise in the pre-dawn coolness, I thought back to this offering, which I posted exactly a year ago on this unlit light blog. It wants to be shared here. I fancy it might be my yearly birthday post, since I can’t find one word I’d change. And I need these words.

Birthdays are a good time to reflect on one’s blessings, and to offer gratitude to our friends for their kindness and thoughtfulness. I always begin my birthday with a gesture of thanks to my mother, who not only gave me the miraculous opportunity for life, but also fostered, nourished and inspired the flourishing of that life in every way possible.

Now in my eighth decade, and delighting in life regardless of its curved balls, I feel to share some of the observations that have delivered me to this joy. It’s the best I can offer; may your mind and heart be able to receive.


Miriam Louisa Simons - Offering Bowl


Life hurts.
But what you are never feels pain.

Everything changes.
But what you are remains unchanged, eternally.

You’re flat and exhausted and depressed.
But what you are is forever poised as equanimity.

You’re broke, stressed, squeezed dry, homeless and hungry.
But what you are is unaffected and impartial.

You’re smashed by disappointment, betrayal, abandonment.
But what you are is ever calm, accepting and unbroken.

You’re afflicted by physical and mental aberrations, abnormalities, imbalances.
But what you are never suffers for one second.


So what you are is clearly something with which you need to become very familiar. And it’s e-a-s-y to do so. You don’t need a formal introduction. You don’t need a manual or a map or a guide book. You don’t need to change your religion or your beliefs (although changes may well occur as a result). You don’t need a 12-step plan or a meditation practice.

What you are is more obvious and closer than the tip of your nose. It’s the one experience you can never escape, 24/7.

What would you call that? Your aliveness? Your awareness? Your presence? All these words come close, but none are ultimately true or exact. Why?

Because they aren’t yours. Or mine. Or anyone’s. Drop the personal pronoun, and there you are – radiant all-knowing alive presence. The Light of Knowingness, self-luminous, always-on, never-needing fuel or flint…

And that is what you are – free, fulfilled and flourishing as all you conceive, perceive and experience. All of it.

How wondrous that this is possible – that this primordial awareness is huge enough to hold the entirety of creation, excluding nothing – yet be unaffected and unmoved by any expression of its handmaiden, consciousness.

It is truly The Beloved, the Godhead of the saints and sages and poets.

And it is what you are.


Image – Bowl, Miriam Louisa Simons, Japanese washi, threads, cardboard


the thief


Echoes from Emptiness: Miriam Louisa Simons, Ryokan's Moon, mixed media


I was lying there
minding my own business,
(right leg in plaster to the hip)
uninvited, You came into my room
heavily disguised as a thief
and in one gracious sweep of stealth
You grabbed all evidence of my personal identity
and melted into the night –
passport, driver’s licenses, documents,
credit cards, Filofax, address book, wallet,
money, foreign papers and currency

You left me as a paperless refugee
You left me enraged, frustrated, incredulous
but You never frightened me for one moment

and oh, look –

You forgot the moon, again.

Artwork: Ryokan’s Moon, Miriam Louisa Simons, ‘Wonderbox’, mixed media

schizophrenia and the sacred


I can sing about You
I can BE You

I used to feel torn in two
and thought I’d missed a cue
but now it’s clear:

it makes no darned difference to You!

this untreatable schizophrenia
is my natural sacred state.

either I can sing about You
or I can BE Your roaring silence

whatever role I think I play
is You, playing for Your own delight
absorbed in either
preferring neither

it’s all the same to You!


making up with dear wee-me


what is, is always a somatic event, whether it be a mental or physical experience, whether it be of the ‘external’ world, or the ‘internal’ one

this body teaches me, guides me; it has its own way of regulating its miraculous system

when it’s happy it lets me know: it sleeps soundly, thinks clearly, stays centered in imperishable knowingness

I write “it lets me know” and instantly need to correct the illusion of two: it lets itself know, and a wee ‘me’ thought claims receipt

dear wee ‘me’ thought – you serve me well

now that you’ve revealed yourself as the ephemeral indispensable servant of the changeless Real, the Beloved, we are friends, we can make up, we can stop pretending this default dualism

at last


the perfect Lover is infinitely patient


The One that you are, and that everything is,
is eternal and ubiquitous
Self naked
and unconditioned.


Are you still seeking that One?
Still doing sadhana?
Still believing you steer your Lifeboat?
Still thinking you make your own choices?


has no preferences
and as the perfect Lover
is infinitely patient.