life’s got a thing going with my zafu


“How do you find the time to sit?” I’m asked.
Well, I don’t.  I will explain.

Decades passed with ml desiring more time to sit.
The cushion was ever calling, but she was a self with things-to-be-done.
They lined up in lists and no matter how many were struck off, accomplished, more recruits would appear to replace them.
She longed for more time in which to achieve all the must-do’s that self spun around its existence.
She longed too, for the space and silence of the zafu.
And all that longing created conflict.

So, what changed all that?
When the impossibility of ml’s existence as a separate solid entity was seen, everything shifted.

ml was replaced by Life, Itself, and Life loves using the zafu as its launch-pad for the return to Itself – point ZERO.

So I confess I don’t have to find time; nor is it really true to say, “I sit.”

But it happens.

just-so, just-this, nothing special


The only difference between the wideawake actors in this marvelous movie and those who cling to their ‘roles’ (making them very effective, skilled performers, of course,) is this:  Wideawake actors have grokked the impossibility of any particular person acting – or awakening.  Un-awakened actors haven’t, yet.

Does it matter?

To whom could it matter?

The movie mirage goes on in any event: just-so, just-this, nothing special.


can’t help IT!


Reading yesterday’s opening phrase prompted a silly song … with apologies to Marlene.


…can’t help it…


falling asleep again
never wanted to
what am I to do
can’t help it

thoughts flutter round me
like moths around a flame
whispering my name
can’t help it

past comes to haunt me
future’s finger cues
yearning stirs the passions
can’t help it

thoughts go their own way
never give a toss
think that they’re the boss
can’t help it

falling asleep again
never wanted to
no-thing here to do
can’t help IT!


Image: Marlene Dietrich by Edward Steichen
Copyright © 2000 George Eastman House, Rochester, NY

my feet are clumsy


The absence of striving brings the arrival of quietude.

It’s nothing ecstatic or amazing; just the palpable absence of dis-ease.

No goodness, no evil, no victim and no saint.
No protection, no danger, no salvation.
Nothing to be done and no one to do it.
No past, no future, no one going anywhere.

Sounds like the end of ‘your’ world?

It is.

But Life dances on.

My feet are clumsy; I’m still getting used to ITs wild rhythm.


‘I-I’ replaces ‘I-am’


The grammatical first-person I that, as subject, takes a verb, is the I in I-llusion.  As subject, it’s also necessarily an object – conceivable – and therefore just another tool of thought and nothing more.

To say, “I am” and to assume that this little phrase holds some kind of spiritual power exposes yet another version of ego’s search for an identity.  Although it’s held in almost magical regard by many spiritual teachers, I’ve always been edgy around this phrase.  It asserts separation, individuality.  Unless understood at a profoundly deep level “I am” has precisely the kind of power it takes to deepen the illusion and foster fragmentation.

Sooner or later one comes to the understanding that ‘I’ has nothing whatsoever to do with doing (or feeling) and has no need of a verb because IT is a verb.

Ramana Maharshi liked to use the term ‘I-I’.  That’s good enough for me.


disgusting nondual yukkness


morning talk-back-yap
(no radio required):

I’m tired have a headache
drank too much cheap red wine last night
shouldn’t have

instant hangover-drama cure kicks in:
who’s tired? who’s got a headache?
who drank (and enjoyed) wine?
who regrets it?

the culprit can’t be found:
no one’s available to take the blame

only this disgusting nondual yukkness