on a summer’s evening in Alicante


the adorables known as my parents celebrate 67 years of marriage today!

she who identified with the idea of ‘daughter’ can no longer find herself in the idea
but nevertheless, daughter-ing happens


later, an image of the old ‘me’ arises, just like in a dream:
a vacuum cleaner, sucking greedily, insatiably
sucking experiences and teachings and philosophies and beliefs into a bursting bag

me, me, mine!

the bag began emptying on a summer’s evening in Alicante,
(full moon rising, magenta bougainvillea against palest indigo sky
the Lover known as Death silently keeping company)
and once underway, reversal was impossible

with the departure of the last dust-balls,
the bag and the vacuum cleaner disappeared

Lover never left


pure and naked Presence


collisions between my various and sundry selves went on for years
self in heart didn’t match any of the selves that were packed away
in the rat-pack of possessions that head-self needed to keep
just in case …

head-self hung on to boxed-selves,
heart-self ached for unknowable Self beyond selves

eventually the inevitable came to pass:
the packaged persons were faced
the battleground was marked out and war raged
until all the selves – head’s and heart’s, ‘lower’ and ‘higher’
were seen as one delusion

all selves

that was the catastrophic and unavoidable end
and the sweet, fresh, ever-renewing rebirth
as pure and naked Presence


liberation from the ludicrous lie


when identification with the solid, objective self/doer falls away
and clarity reveals that the body-brain-world is wholly lived by Beingness

what then?

vast release; liberation from the ludicrous lie

brain’s technology toolbox awaits instructions…
how tempting to dig out the old id and begin
another construction of a self
– a special, liberated self…

(sly grin)

says Beingness: no big deal! there’s only one player in this game