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)
the shock of seamless intimacy is usually hair-raising
no separation! outside & inside – 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
all those comforting conclusions; certitudes acquired
along a streaming lifeline
gone – synapses wiped
– – –
only this Nothing that excludes nothing
remains, on Its knees
and excruciatingly sweet
– – –
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How to heal a heart:
stand alone, drop your stories,
fall in love with this.
When my aloneness
smiled with simple contentment
love loosed its wild song.
Now that I’m clueless,
emptiness dances naked
wherever I gaze.
Life moves. It’s taking itself off the mountain and into the marketplace again. Who knows what will unfold? The only thing I’m certain about is that gratitude and fulfillment go with me – one’s my left leg, the other my right…
three haiku from cloud mountain hermitage
this ultimate knowingness
isn’t a teaching, a path, a doctrine
one can ‘live’ or embody
(although the earnest peddlers
of nonduality apps
would love you to buy the notion)
you can’t “live this savage wisdom”
it’s what’s living you
and not just when you’re clear and angelic
it’s living you when you’re a mess: lost, confused, angry,
seducing and story-telling
its play is infinite
it has no preferences;
it loves all that it creates and beholds
and because You and It are inseparable
your recognition of this
is ITs total fulfillment
it’s how IT gets its jollies!
(c’mon, wake up, don’t be a party-pooper!)
Uncredited image found in an archive on my hard drive and played with in Photoshop. Please contact me if you recognize it as your work and I’ll add your name.
analyze and adapt
diagnose and dialogue
formulate and fix
trance, track, tap:
so many ways to place
patches on the pain
we call it healing
and invent new modalities by the minute
to ease the symptoms, which also
multiply by the minute, fattening the catalogue
of official psychological disorders
but until the trickster called time
is exposed and deposed
our little healings are just brief remissions
from the ache of incompleteness
to heal is to make whole
that’s why the true sages carry no band-aids
but go straight to the root of fragmentation
– time –
conjurer of the ‘me’-mirage
with its default sense of separation
and its insatiable appetite for union
they know that the ending of time
restores immeasurable wholeness
– no faith, no belief, no training required
only a willingness to disappear
into now and this and here
This morning what’s striking me as utterly wondrous is the sheer inevitability of everything. Sometimes I would wonder whether this is a gift of ripening age – one can see far enough back down the tracks to be aware of how the dots connect over the span of decades. But nowadays I notice this wonderment being expressed by those who are youthful – and wideawake. I’ve come to see that wonderment, awe, and an unbidden humility arise in the naked encounter with ‘what-is’ – unadorned suchness. This brings me to my knees.
The inevitability of ripeness and readiness for awakening – but always in their own time and on their own terms.
Eventually, when ripeness was ready, there was an instantaneous sightless seeing that everything I believed I was doing was happening in its own way, by its own accord, at its own pace. There was seeing that nothing happening has anything to do with ‘me’ and that beyond the craziness of appearances everything flows harmoniously.
Retiring, relaxing, ml slips out of the time/space grid, returns to the womb of One-derment, where, neither watching nor waiting, ‘I’ is totality and sweet fulfillment.
Vegetarian souls earnestly give up eating meat, ignoring the insistence of the Meat Marketing Board’s advertising; the health conscious cancel caffeine from their diet yet still use coffee houses as meeting places; many of us abstain from alcohol in spite of the presence of a pub on every corner, and avoid nicotine while remaining visually bombarded by cigarette advertising.
A handful of humans have awakened from the illusion of being a separate rock-solid entity and happily cohabit with the mainstream mass of dreamers. But even when suspicious of its hazardous affects on health, society and the planet, most of us struggle to even challenge the solid-self notion. It’s seldom questioned at all. Such inquiry is reserved for philosophers and mystics. All the contextual ‘evidence’ for separate-self’s sustained existence and validity is trotted out, but none of that is up for scrutiny either.
I wonder why we are never taught the difference between concept and Reality at home, or at school. I guess it would collapse the currency of a materialistic economy if children grew up in disregard of the advertising that would have them believe that happiness had a price and came with conditions, labels and images.
The empty essence of human Beingness is the best kept secret in creation, which is a great shame because the total fulfillment it reveals remains under wraps as well.
raining softly puddling
greenly guzzling growing
peeing neighbor relieving
flushing toilet emptying
impatient traffic up-gearing
fountain pen scribbling
steaming tea sipping
‘I’ is the ing-ing of the world
just this, right now, right here
always at home
what a way
to start a day!