this mysterious morphing me


Echoes from Emptiness: this mysterious morphing me


‘me’ is a mystery
to myself and to the world
of teeming memies

it morphs on-demand
to become … whatever is

it’s a shape-shifter
expert nanodrama artist
in cunning disguise


but no such mystery
shrouds the changeless One called ‘I’
right here, always ON

Creation’s unblinking eye


image source

having a ‘whoops!’ moment, again


awakening from sleep

awareness arrays a new-born world

splashes face

gropes for zafu

settles butt, folds legs

inhales the fragrant flowering gums

chuckles with the kookaburra

trembles with the palm fronds

sips steaming green tea

disappears into a silence

that senses every tone and texture


breathes – is breathed

marvels, that

not one scientist, philosopher or sage

can explain how any of this can possibly occur

on an exquisite pulsing rock

awhirl in a numinous space –


a space inseparable from

the immense, immeasurable awareness

in which it all appears


Echoes from Emptiness: earth from space


Image source – Parallax

mystery? what mystery?


Many traditional spiritual advisors love to dangle the ‘Mystery’ carrot in front of their flock – always, of course, just out of range and reach.

We go for it with our customary (and sanctioned) appetite for spiritual must-haves.  We love a good mystery and in the spiritual stakes this one is particularly attractive.  Awe and adulation descend and before we know it we’re on our knees begging for all to be revealed.

But mystery is just another red herring put out by mind’s concept-canning factory; a conceptual stand-in for what we honestly hunger – our real and changeless Self, which just happens to be the most immediate, intimate and non-mysterious marvel that we insist on overlooking.

Here IT is.  IT’s never been anywhere but here, closer than one’s breath.  Yet we crave the carrot!

Can mystery be found outside of mind’s ideas about it?  If it’s only a product of the imagination then perhaps we should call it mystory rather than mystery.

Mystery and mystory.  Alan Watts would have called them a “goeswith”.


ever-present ‘I’ is an eternal insomniac


I seek a shift in common language,
a way to say what is actually meant

I speak of I, but don’t mean I
as a thing

I speak of it as that (mystery)
which manifests function and

I speak of I as ‘It’

but this ‘It’ is no-thing either, yet thought
would instantly turn it into a thing in
time and space

I as ‘It’ occupies neither time nor
space, yet – magician that it is –
manifests both in order to
show up for the party

I as ‘It’ is never caught napping;
ever-present ‘I’ is an eternal insomniac,
resting as unknowable Knowingness

and wideawake – to the n