full moon musings

Full Moon in May

 

luminosity

brushes

the edges of the threatening clouds

then

suddenly it’s sailing clear –

the full moon!

– – –

awakening is precisely like this:

our precious fears and foibles

begin to melt into lightness

at the edges

as

the dark curtain of concepts

and the tireless concept-builder

examined, unravel,

and there it is

the self-luminous light

of our eternal beingness

that was veiled

only

by ceaseless story-spinning

 


Image credit


“I’m free!”


The 'me' who claims to be free is just a caged concept ...

 .

as soon as freedom is claimed

infinite potential has been abandoned

.

as soon as happiness is claimed

the joy that’s causeless has been abandoned

.

as soon as awakening is claimed

natural wideawakeness has been abandoned

.

if you want to be free

{{{ unconditionally }}}

try abandoning the mirage of ‘me’


The wonderful cartoon comes from Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo on Facebook

time is mind’s favourite toy

342

On a sun-drenched Easter Sunday nearly seven decades ago, two destiny maps – known as my Mum and Dad – came together in marriage and stayed together.

 

Echoes from Emptiness: Grahame Sydney - Road West, Ida Valley

 

It happened in the remote Ida Valley, Central Otago – sheep-station country in New Zealand’s South Island.  Think tussocks blanketing the dry landscape with shimmering liquid gold, huge rock outcrops and only a few scattered willows bordering the creeks; skies of unfathomable indigo with tiny skylarks soaring and diving and ceaselessly singing on the wing…

Time!  How it creates this apparentness of be-ing!  Creates the insistent illusion of individuals with identities and histories; creates the fabric on which Life embroiders a multitude of manifestations.  Time is mind’s favourite toy.

This is my question:

What was never born
never entered into marriage
never had children or parents
never succeeded or failed at anything
never suffered injury or heartache
nor enjoyed a single moment’s pleasure
and yet ‘knows’ it all, intimately,
while remaining
utterly unaffected and impartial?


Painting:  Road West, Ida Valley by Grahame Sydney 1999
710mm x 1220mm
Oil on Linen


life’s ultimate brain-numbing paradox

328

Is Advaita* philosophy fatalistic? Escapist? Depressing? Negative?

Perhaps, if you’re asking from the perspective of an assumed independent entity, one who claims personal responsibility and purpose and is driven by either the carrot dangling from the stick in front, or the pressure of the ‘thou shalts’ from the rear. Perhaps, if you believe in goodness and evil, right and wrong, and that it’s ‘you’ that exercises the power to choose between them.

Perhaps not, if you’ve looked deeply and discovered that the independent person you took yourself to be is (gulp) a construction built up from thoughtstuff. Perhaps not, if, having profoundly understood this, you see that beliefs aren’t something you have but what the imaginary person is.

In the world of appearances, it always depends on where you’re looking from.

Looking from the absolute impossibility of independent person-hood, to whom could it matter? Looking from the relative reality of a daily life however – the one we apparently inhabit – it matters all right. Damn right it matters.

But there’s something about the weird knowing (weird in that there’s no knower) that ‘I’ is the ball of thoughts bouncing back and forth in an infinite rally creating the illusion of separation, as well as their very source, that bestows the freedom to be fully and fantastically human.

This is life’s ultimate brain-numbing and head-shaking paradox.

~

*Advaita = not two.  Actually, not even one.  Indivisible thusness.

making up with dear wee-me

295

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 Reality within the illusion

246

Someone tells me, migraine-wracked me, “It’s all an illusion.”

In spite of vomiting and pain I have to agree, since there’s no suffering happening.  I have learned that to avoid, to move away from whatever suchness is presently presenting, is to suffer.

But in the contrary way of unbidden questions something asks, “If the experience of sickness can be said to be an illusion, what’s aware of the illusion; what knows it to be an illusion?”

The Awareingness that’s aware isn’t a thing.  And nothing can be found outside of this Awareing-Knowing, so, how could any experience be said to be an illusion or not-an-illusion?

“Don’t overlook the Reality within the illusion!”
said someone very wise

and this is the most powerful and comforting
mind-medicine
one can offer

~