expressing the inexpressible

the myth of merging

353

Expressing the inexpressible is so tricky.  As soon as words are uttered – or even thought – there’s duality by default, and the inexpressible is nondual by default.

Poets often speak of merging into oneness but this is misleading and mistaken, because, well, oneness being one, who or what could be outside it to “merge”?

There’s no merging involved in wild wideawakeness.  There’s just a waking up to the realization that nothing has ever been divided up – except by thought and language.

Wild wideawakeness embraces the totality of creation – as you, in you, and believe it or not – thanks to you.

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our innate longing for intimacy

299

Many folk express the longing to be able to draw or paint some-thing.  They long to faithfully render a beloved face, or a favorite object, or the marvel of a landscape.  Or, with the plethora of photographic devices now available, they eagerly capture moments both miraculous and mundane.

Might this have something to do with our innate longing for seamless intimacy with that apparent object or experience, with longing to know it, to be it, on the other side of conceptualization, categorizing, labeling?

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unknowable knowingness

nothing that can be contained, it flows and ebbs;
calls itself perception or consciousness or awareness
or life or grace or destiny or God

the ‘ten thousand things’ are its toys –
its appearances rising and falling
wherever It casts its sensory antennae

is it not the ultimate
seamless intimacy?

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if I say I am sad, I lie

232

Sometimes one gets frustrated trying to find clean and accurate phrases to wordify this immaculate suchness – ‘n’ – the ‘what-is.’

Language – this English one at any rate – is quite useless for this purpose.  Whatever is uttered immediately needs qualification, adjustment, explanation.

Perhaps poetry is the medium, but its technologies aren’t known to me.
(Are they knowable at all?)

The problem is the subject-object split.

If I say, “I am sad”, for example, I lie.
I cannot find an owner of sadness (or any-thing else).

Sadness simply is ‘what-is.’

Perhaps one could say, “I is sadness.”
But that would be grammatically clumsy. And also irrelevant, because the ‘I’ seeks no reason for it; ‘I’ has no aversion towards it; has no need to express it.
The sensation of sadness is an energetic body-brain response to apparent conditions, often appropriate and inevitable in the grand scheme of dream-scenarios – as is all suffering, at the bottom line.

And, like the dreams, changing, always changing.

How then to write about That which never changes?

Poetry is the medium.
Like creativity, knowing nothing about how to ‘do it’ is probably the only way for it to happen.

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my breath flows like shakuhachi-speak

220

the rain continues its benediction:

perfume of parched earth receiving lifeblood

chorale of baptized birds fluffing in gratitude

pearlgrey skies
raindarkened gums
glistening puddles
happy toadlets
dancing raindrops
palms in pranam

soft gentling pattering music that somehow blends
with the singing silver silence
flowing through mindspace,
smoothing and soothing

ahhhh…
my breath flows
like shakuhachi-speak
and I reach for the brush…

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rainbreath – breathscribe series
light-reflective acrylic on textured canvas

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the artisan’s pathless path

211

In the studio art works are happening.  As always, they mirror the ‘processes’ happening in the larger lifescape.

Several works begun in the last 10 years of almost constant travel and packed away unfinished have been brought to completion.  They crawled out of their packaging and spoke up.

The midwife was ready.  She had no plans, no designs, no goals.  She just listened carefully.  Felt the pulse, noticed the vital signs … danced the dance that has no known movements or music …

This natural, unschooled way of working unfolds the artisan’s pathless path.

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wonderingmindstudio.com

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