364
propelled by memories of childhood intimidation
I toppled into the Venus flytrap called wee-me
my body’s ultra-sticky reflexive reactions
instantly creating a powerless self
that set about consuming itself
impressive!
–
propelled by the practice of presence
I fell back into the changeless nameless
numinous no-thing-ness
where nothing can stick or stain
and neither self nor no-self are on the menu
nothing special
~
331
Opening
to the possibility that nothing
is the way it appears to be
Observing
thought’s dynamics, especially
the compilation of dear wee-me
Obsolescence
identification with anything nameable
is suddenly … laughable
Ordinariness
is the order of the day
nothing is special, only everything
Okeydokey
no more arguments with whatever-ness
(my battle-bruises get a rest)
Others
virtual or ‘real’ turn out to be
a mirror-image of ‘me’
O M G
this … this … this
is always IT
~
Image – probably the beautiful calligraphy of Thich Nhat Hanh – see comments.
325
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.
~
316
when this
spacious
no-thingness
becomes home-base
(which it always has been, and yet …
we are prodigals by some divine default)
the view
over the dream-drama called a life
clears
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
anticipation
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:
wonderment
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
(apparently)
one tiny thought-form!
dear wee trumped-up me
~
303
Today I’m off to hospital for the knee surgery that was postponed in December last year. Given the events that set the scenario in motion – a motorcycle accident in Athens, Greece, 1972, and given the subsequent wear and tear in over 30 years of leg-work, it’s easy to see that it’s all happening as it must. Gratitude for my Orthopedic surgeon and his team, and for access to a humane hospital facility.
.
Like most folk I longed for emotional equanimity
But longing – like its twin, avoiding – isn’t something wee-me does
it’s what wee-me is.
When dear wee-me was exposed for what-it-is
its games were seen as mental skylarking, and
the ideal of equanimity ceased to be relevant.
This unknowable knowingness – let’s call it ‘I’
is untroubled by the ups and downs of life,
by the dangers and pleasures of emotional expression.
Resting as ‘I’, emotions are free to be.
And in that freedom they rise,
swirl and fade
like the mists on this mountain.
That’s my version of peace.
~
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
~
257
There’s much ado about ‘conscious choice’ – how we must apply it to our lives to achieve everything from prosperity to enlightenment – how it’s needed to change world events – how it will assist in earth’s transformation or salvation. A huge and profitable industry constellates around this fairytale assumption.
The assumption of a chooser entity with powers of volition is largely non-negotiable. But if you’ve done your homework – dug deeply into research on ‘personal’ volition (Benjamin Libet et al) – sat silently on cushion (thought-tracking) – embraced ‘n’ (now-this-here) with every belief-free breath, then you’ll know the wonder of it:
Choice happens.
And measurable ticktocks of time later
responsibility is claimed by a subsequent thought
called dear wee me.
~
echoes from emptiness 