Expressing the inexpressible is so tricky. As soon as words are uttered – or even thought – there’s duality by default, and the inexpressible is nondual by default.
Poets often speak of merging into oneness but this is misleading and mistaken, because, well, oneness being one, who or what could be outside it to “merge”?
There’s no merging involved in wild wideawakeness. There’s just a waking up to the realization that nothing has ever been divided up – except by thought and language.
Wild wideawakeness embraces the totality of creation – as you, in you, and believe it or not – thanks to you.
I settle on my zafu
poised as the Presence
of a world displayed –
a world whose appearance
is wholly dependent upon
the sensory capacity
here, yet without location
I marvel that after turning up
for more than 300 mornings,
pen-in-hand and heart-at-the-ready,
words still spill themselves
out of the silent emptiness
on the other side of thought
as fresh and fecund as on day
There is no author here –
my authorship could never sustain such
freshness for even a fortnight.
I’d bore myself to tears and quickly move on.
Wild wideawakeness is simply singing
to itself in the mirror.
A small hand
holding an old-fashioned Waterman fountain pen
scribbles the opening libretto:
Everywhere I look
laid out in luscious
I’m cracking up at the audacity when out of nowhere a gleeful chorus pipes up:
It’s a new dawn
it’s a new day
it’s a new life for Me
and I’m feelin’ good!*
[Never will you meet such an unapologetic narcissist!]
*from Feeling Good, by Peter Schick
It’s true that there’s nothing to do in order to abide in this brilliant wideawakeness. It’s also true that doing nothing is no different from doing everything possible.
Wideawakeness has no preferences whatsoever; its unimaginable vastness includes all activities and practices, faiths and beliefs and philosophies.
Wideawakeness is sometimes called the ‘silent witness’ but if one looks very closely a witness cannot be found at all – it’s merely another arising thought. When the witness idea dissolves, it’s clearly seen that no separation exists between wideawakeness and whatever (is appearing, happening).
The witness and the watcher and the wee-me are all sparkling froth on this unfathomable ocean of seething teeming wideawakeness.
(which it always has been, and yet …
we are prodigals by some divine default)
over the dream-drama called a life
it doesn’t mean you know what’s going to happen;
it means the absence of needing to know
and the presence of an eager, innocent
it doesn’t mean you understand the meaning of life;
it means absence of a need for ultimate meaning
and the presence of ceaseless curiosity:
it doesn’t mean your life-map and context necessarily change;
it means your relationship with everything changes:
what used to need analyzing, fixing, healing,
is no longer a problem
see, you’ve dissolved into this
innocence and wondering and relating
that a tiny thought-form
held you separate from
one tiny thought-form!
dear wee trumped-up me
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
Creativity is radical discontinuity in a pattern of thought.
~ David Bohm
Continuity of thought creates tic-toc habitude, linear and time-bound, chugging along like a freight train.
It takes some stopping, and can never be derailed volitionally.
Because the person who imagines they ‘have’ volition is the freight train incarnate.
What stops it in its tracks?
When tic-toc activity is clearly apperceived, creativity creeps through the cracks of habitude, slams on the brakes and the thinker-thought train is derailed.
Genuine creativity is Creation’s non-personal Intelligence in action.
What can be said about the overpopulation of the planet? What can be said about starvation, about terrorism, about climate change? What can be said about the spread of diseases like AIDS?
Whatever is said or imagined by thought will be the product of conceptualization – the same source that produced the problems, the questions, and that endlessly spins the solutions. But genuine change cannot be wrought by thought’s projections, for it only knows the known, and the known is the past. Revolution is never creative; it may be innovative, but that’s not the same as creative. Innovation is generated by thought re-arranging what it already knows. Is it possible for thought to find a new question? Or can new questions only arise from That which is beyond thought?
What thought knows cannot be the Truth for Truth is changeless and unknowable.
Go for the guts of IT: find the changeless, unknowable Truth and then see what happens to the rest.
Watch in amazement as Life rises to meet ITself – with wisdom and compassion and your name on ITs ID card.