tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19573731870874735892024-03-08T01:38:27.096-08:00Edge Of The InfiniteMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-55942937305950266042011-12-19T21:03:00.000-08:002011-12-19T21:03:38.895-08:00Hungry Ghosts! <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As the holidays approach and with it the glitter of Christmas lights, the chill air inviting a warm fire and the cozy security of hot chocolate and family, the laughter of children, old movies reminding us of cheer and goodwill, and of course the ever present invitations of generosity, peace on earth, and love, I am overcome with what can only be described as, well...implacable terror.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Christmas is one of the most terrifying holidays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Not necessarily because of the bustle of shopping madness, the return of the scads of ordinary people long past the age of responsible driving, or even that I must, at some point, actually go to Wal-Mart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m stricken with sudden spellbinding fear because, you see, Christmas is haunted by ghosts. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Specifically, my hungry, hungry ghosts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> If you are not familiar with the term, Hungry Ghosts are the specters of desire with long skinny necks and enormous bellies, who, despite their gluttony, are never satisfied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They arise from the depths of lack, and while usually held at bay by logic, reason, and sanity, at this time of year are given full reign to wander the landscape of my inner being, dragging their noisy chains and generally wreaking havoc with my sense of presence and peace of mind.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> The ghosts write the lists, my friends, and they have impeccable penmanship.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Let’s take, for example, my number one hobby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Okay, that’s not for polite company, how about my number <em>two</em> hobby: Photography.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Anyone who has been seriously intrigued by the art of photography knows the scoop. With the possible exception of collecting sports cars ala Jay Leno or climbing Everest twice a year, photography is one of the most expensive hobbies to have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is punctuated by endless possessed shrieks of “I need more!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I need a new camera, because this camera came out 3 years ago, and is old and outdated and still has an actual PRINTED manual, obviously designed for the computer illiterate unfamiliar with the wonders of PDF.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need a better, faster lens!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not an F4, lens, but an F2 lens, no…not an F2…I need an F1.2!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not this tripod, but that tripod, not aluminum but carbon fiber, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I need these filters, and this wireless shutter release, and I need that sherpa to hump my stuff from car to field. </span>I need a better software program, not Elements 7, not Elements 8 or 9, nor 10, nor Lightroom, Bridge, no, I need CS4, no CS5…no…I need a full time editing assistant with a mindscape chock full of Photoshop actions.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Oh, I’m not the only one to blame!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I show a photograph I think is admirable to someone, and they almost inevitably respond:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You must have a REALLY good camera!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As though the camera is taking the picture, and I am only the poor clicker on the end. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Or even more enigmatically, they say, “You sure have a good eye!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
Ahh…but to improve, to take better pictures, I need better, more advanced, the latest, greatest EYES!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
And the sad thing is:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <em> </em></span><em>This is all true.</em></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
All True.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
If my goal is take pictures, then I will always need a better camera, a different lens, more equipment, more this, more that.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
If my goal is to take pictures, I will never be satisfied, and of course, neither will my hungry ghosts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
But, my goal is not to take pictures.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
My goal is to MAKE pictures.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
And in order to MAKE pictures, wanting and hoping and desiring for more and more, better and better does nothing for me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If my goal is to MAKE pictures, my hungry ghosts will only distract me from what I really need to do, which is course, to <strong>see what I have</strong>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I have to look. To really look.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
What do I have?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
Light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And light’s mysterious lover, shadow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
Form. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Pattern.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Line.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
To make pictures, I must be intimate with the elements of design arising now, and be keenly aware of my subject and the relation of positive and negative space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must see what I have; I must interact with what is present in that decisive moment, with what is available, when it is available. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
Creativity springs from unequivocal presence; from being so lovingly attentive to what is happening now that the deep, dark well of lack from which the Hungry Ghosts spring is flooded with such a blinding light that everything is illuminated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m talkin’ F64.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Hungry Ghosts are not bad, you see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are just fast talkers, persuasive and they have you, and me, and just about everyone convinced and right now is not enough. They have convinced us that they are real.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
You already have everything you will ever need.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
You are already everything that you ever need to be.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> <br />
All you have to do is Look...</span></strong></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In this fabulous movie, our main character, who is ourselves, seems to have everything, and must lose everything to see what he really has and who he really is. A wonderful film, and this clip includes a great song from Radiohead:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/2OqiahpWSZU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-43829293465053343632011-10-21T14:42:00.000-07:002011-10-21T14:44:29.274-07:00PAY NO ATTENTION TO THAT MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well, it is almost Halloween, so the time seems appropriate to talk about our favorite emotion: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">FEAR.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Muuhawwahhhhhhhhh!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I mean, FEAR is your favorite emotion, isn’t it?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Funny, you would think that more people would admit to fear being the juiciest BFF of our emotional spectrum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, wouldn’t you agree it is perhaps the emotion that we feel the most?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We can expect to feel sad, maybe what- a few times a week?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Real sadness, not like when your favorite team loses, which really is just disappointment masquerading as sadness, but that visceral belly dropping depression of true sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps not even a few times a week, maybe less?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we might revisit the feelings that we experienced during those first few moments of falling in love, and we look for reminders of those sweet expressions in our current moments, but really, how often do we actually LIVE that incredible free fall of surrender like we did the first time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For reals?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We might feel anger, we hope not much more than a few times a week, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t stay there long- anger (for most of us) has a short shelf life, and morphs readily into guilt, or regret, which if you look closely, is just another form of FEAR- the fear that something that we have done or not done may affect us later.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And what about happiness?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How many times a week can we expect super exhilarating mid blowing ecstatic happiness?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, how about:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>how many times a month?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we even entertain the notion that daily bouts of overwhelming bliss are available to us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably not, unless of course we happen to be a porn star.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yet, how many times do we feel fear?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little fears and big fears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And don’t forget the expressions of fear: worry- which is fear that a future situation will turn out differently than what we expect, and again, regret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is not so much, “Oh, what have I done!”, but “Oh, how is this going to screw me up later!?!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We love fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Admit it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll pay good money for it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll dive out of perfectly good airplanes, jump off of bridges tethered by rubber bands, hell, well pay to watch our fellow humans being eviscerated on the big screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a holiday devoted to it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which makes the most money, do you suppose?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our holiday dedicated to love, or our holiday dedicated to fear?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What other emotion do we actively seek out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We certainly don’t go searching for homeless people and road kill cats so we can get a fix of sadness, do we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We turn the channel when the starving African kids appear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you imagine going to the movies and spending 20 bucks for a big ass guilt trip?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sure don’t see myself attending that premier, even if there is free popcorn.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, we love to be afraid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We love it!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why then, do we deny our fear?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you really look, we have a dysfunctional relationship with fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We think that fear is a defect of character, don’t we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A weakness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something to get over, or move past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We applaud people who “look fear in the eye”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We convince our children to buck up and face what they fear is in the closet, and then encourage them to dress up and hide in their own mind, where the scary shit really lives.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fear gets a bad rap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it possible, that fear is really just a messenger?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That fear is simply like Toto, ripping the curtain away and revealing that the fake wizard behind it is really just an old pervert?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In other words, fear alerts us to the opportunity to discover whether the object of our fear is true, or not true. Real, or to borrow a cheesy self-help phrase: simply False Evidence Appearing Real.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have you heard that tired story of the rope and the snake?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You come home in the evening and walk into a dimly lit room, and there in the corner you spy a coiled snake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fear!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly, your body reacts just as it supposed to when confronted by something that is potentially harmful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our normal reaction is, of course, to fight – “look fear in the eye” or to run like hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either way, we don’t stop and investigate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is what I see true?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We just end up feeling a different emotion: embarassment. From either running away like a little girl, or for attacking a coiled rope with a double barreled shotgun.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fear reminds us to investigate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly we don’t need to investigate when being confronted by a rabid bear, but the fact is we react psychologically and physiologically the same way when we are frozen in a state of fear about the outcome of an event or a worry about an imagined future as we do when we run into Mickey Rourke in a dark alley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And do we stop and investigate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How true is this; this that I fear?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Denying fear is like punt kicking Toto while he is reaching for the curtain, and then feeling all high and mighty about “looking fear in the eye”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Denial of fear, in other words, is missing the opportunity that fear provides us to investigate the Truth in the objects of our fears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Denial of fear is, perhaps, Vanity in the biblical sense:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I have seen all the works done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity, and a chasing after wind”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What, right now, are you afraid of?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it true?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here of course, is the seminal clip:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Unyb-EyGkOo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-43688919283377525192011-08-11T21:05:00.001-07:002011-08-11T21:19:19.646-07:00Lost In A Wonderful Wilderness Of Miracles In the past few years, I have had everyone from wise yet perpetually cranky pony-tailed Jewish anti-gurus and angelic blond and fantastically bendy yoga teachers; from regular Joe reluctant teachers of no-thing, to mean beady eyed, beedie smoking Indian saints pointing and screaming in Marathi all telling me the same thing: that all there is, is this: <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <b>N</b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ow, </i>this experience, these fingers pecking this melody on this keyboard, these eyes scanning the spaces, seeking the ground in which the blank marks arise, this right here, and nothing more, except of course, in the unchartered terrain of always changing, always shifting, never satisfied, and always impermanent thought.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Yet, here I am, in the midst of impending miracles, so many! I am lost in soft blue hues, pink ruffles, first burps, and wide eyes staring in awareness, and the cooing of first musical syllables, tiny gripping fingers, the pulse of two heartbeats joined and strong…I am constantly shaken into a soft sway, into swaddling, into a long sleepless night of joy and constant questioning, and pain…yes, tiredness and fear, here comes the Little Engine That Could, and I’ll jump aboard and ride that train straight into terror, of the unknown and my every possible triumph; my every inevitable failing. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> How could I not? How could I not follow the thread of thought into hope, and dream, and fantasy and fear? Miracles abound! At every stop ahead there are miracles! I crane my neck and dodge the wind so I can see, because just ahead, a Golden Ticket, and…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I…CAN’T…WAIT!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> And then, I stop, and re-remember. I am walking silently in a maze of miracles, a forest of wonder. All around me a never ending mosaic of beauty, of growing, of becoming. I’m constantly showered by falling moments, and in each one, A Golden Ticket. A touch of blossoming belly, a smile of knowing, the excitement of what is happening now: the unknown blooming inside and a laugh of love, a frown of fear, a sharing of unquestioned tears. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this moment: closeness</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: anger</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: worry</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: boundless joy</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: nervous expectation</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: There is, this.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In this: A Miracle</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I wrote what follows quite a while ago, with a whole different purpose in mind, mostly a silly laugh. And strangely I see now how applicable it is, in it's sillyness, as even though I am so wonderfully lost in this landscape of miracles, I am constantly reminded that I am always Home.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <b><i> </i></b><br />
<b><i>GETHOMEITIS</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There is a curious malady which overcomes you, say, when you are hiking the backwoods or deserts of your world; perhaps even in the mall if you are wearing crappy shoes. At some point, after you have discovered the beautiful waterfall, the Indian ruins, or the happy drunk leprechaun handing out the 20 dollar bills, suddenly, the whole thing just seems, well, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">over, </i>and really, you just want to go home. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Here is where it gets interesting, because <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">wouldn't it be nice if you could just whisper some code word into your combination altimeter, barometer, thermometer, calorie countin' superman secret agent IPhone, and whooooosh! Here comes your private chopper to pluck your sorry ass from the wilderness or the Starbucks and back to your lovely, most perfect life?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Alas, most of us don't own helicopters, so therefore we must deal with this strange and worrisome condition of the mind: GetHomeitis. This condition is not only dangerous, it is potentially deadly. GetHomeitis is characterized by the increasing urge, verging on dementia, to be finished with what is happening now, where we are, and just get home, which must be exponentially better. At least this is what the never satisfied mind is desperately trying to convince you. The beauty and wonder of the natural world suddenly take a backseat to the imagination and it’s never ending derangement. It's a curious mechanism of human physiology- the more exhausted and stressed the body, the more the mind elevates what is familiar to iconic levels. Your spouse is so much more loving; your house so much more comfortable, the football game so much more important, McDonalds is like the best most nutritious wonder food on the planet! Even your car, waiting patiently for you at the trailhead or the parking lot, is not just a very tired early millenium Jeep with hope in place of air conditioning, it is a miraculous safe haven, protecting you from the stickers, pickers, cacti and shin daggers you have been wading through and the perfume and lotion salespeople you have been dodging for the last six hours, not to mention the hillbillies who have been obviously following you, undoubtedly interested mostly in your ability to squeal like a pig. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The result of a bad case of GetHomeitis is a kind of self-hypnosis. All enjoyment is replaced with the burning desire to just get home. You will plow through cat's claw, ripping your clothes to shreds, bound through ice cold creeks on snot slippery stones right into the self-help section of the bookstore, desperately searching for the way out. You will brush jumping cacti until your pant legs are pincushions; you will ignore the blisters and thorns and heat exhaustion and tarantulas and mountain lions and the lost goldmine you just walked past; indeed- you will walk straight off the edge of a 10 thousand foot cliff- all to satisfy the only concrete notion that you can hold in your burning brain- I HAVE TO GET HOME!</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> And, commonly, in your trancelike state induced by your overwhelming need to go home, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you will walk</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">right past the trail junction or signpost that will take you there</i>, and wander the desert maze of trail or tile, lost and delirious until you are dead enough for the vultures to swoop down upon.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> To make matters worse, if they can be worse, there is no cure for GetHomeitis. Indeed, even if you somehow live and find yourself limping happily in your front door, you will rediscover that the mortgage on your castle is milking you dry, your Honey Do list has grown exponentially since you have been gone, your kids want McDonalds six times a week, and you can't even watch the football game because your teenage son is sitting in the living room with five of his stoned buddies watching Heavy Metal Mania on MTV. And suddenly you are afflicted with another condition, one just as urgent and just as dangerous: </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">GetOutOfHereitis.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> And, helicopter or no, back into the wilderness you shall go. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I’ll stay lost, right here, in this wonderful wilderness of Miracles.</span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-32389525465361737852011-06-15T09:09:00.000-07:002011-06-15T09:39:13.808-07:00Superman At Macys<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I have been interested in writing about identity for quite some time, but have not been really sure about how to approach the topic, and so I’ve been hesitant to explore it here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, it’s niggling, constantly nagging me, like a scab you just can’t keep from picking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And since, if we really look closely, identity (or the mistake therein) seems to be perhaps the catalyst to the wonderful seeking and glorious suffering that we all continually share, I’ve decided to write about it in my usual fashion, which is to randomly type a bunch of meaninglessness and wait and see if anything that remotely resembles a point happens to emerge.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> When I first began this blog and decided on the name, I envisioned “The Edge of the Infinite” as a metaphor for that cliff we teeter on, the unstable and scary periphery between our intellectual understanding of Truth, and our <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being </i>Truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That place where we peer over the edge, perhaps still, for whatever reason, not ready to let loose our own fragile footing, desperately afraid of the inevitable hang time that will occur when we finally just allow the fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But also I see it as the sharp edge of honesty- that the opposite of Truth is a Lie, and how can we not be carrying around our lies?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can I not be a person?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blame it on the damn Greeks.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> You see, I have lived an inauthentic life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I have misrepresented myself; personified a constant living distortion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am guilty of misconception, misinformation, gross libel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m the jester of jive, an expert at exaggeration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Who I have portrayed myself to be, is a fraud.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> And, now looking back as I take a casual stroll down amnesia lane, I see that my dishonesty has always been true, the one thread of my entire experience of life has been the constant companion of inauthenticity.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Remember a thousand years ago, back in high school?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were really just two types of people in high school, right? There were beautiful people, and invisible people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Myself, I wasn’t necessarily interested in the people who wore the labels, but rather how to transcend the labels themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How to be beautifully invisible?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I wore my hair long, dressed in ratty grunge clothing, shared perpetual red eyes with the Stoners, but made straight A’s, and had metaphysical conversations with the Nerds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made it a point to sit with the “prep” boys in assembly, yet I spent every lunch hour in the library with my face buried in Plato, alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seemingly socially awkward, I was not at all against participating in class discussions, arguing vehemently with the history teachers about Custer’s engagement strategy during the Battle of Little Big Horn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled, not intimidated, at the cheerleaders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> But I was only bluffing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> And then on to the world of adulthood- a perpetual shopping trip in a world of too small clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying them on, and convinced they fit, wearing them with pride despite the constant discomfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> There is giant rolled up white glove of humbug which smacks me in the face, on a continual loop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I’m a starving artist, a wanna-be writer, transgressional poet, dutiful employee, a corporate whore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I’m a spiritual person, an intellectual person, an honest person, a not-so-honest person.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I am a historical revisionist, conscientious conservationist, a nature lover of inner landscape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I’m a teacher, a student, a greasy pitchman of viewpoints, none of them True. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am an okay husband, a pretty good father, and a bad son. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Oh, don’t forget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a seeker of Truth.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Look at me, still roaming the halls with my backpack of masks.</span></div><div class="Default" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="Default" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Then what am I?</strong></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
<strong></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong> To know yourself, be yourself. </strong></span></i><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong> To be yourself, stop imagining yourself to be this or that.*</strong></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Such good news!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> It is not the wearing of the mask, the assuming of the identity, that creates my suffering, it is my forgetting that it is simply a mask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I forget, then I must continually convince <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">YOU </i>of the validity of the assumed <em>ME</em>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I must perpetually defend the viewpoints and actions of this assumed me, less it will be seen through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be discovered for what it truly is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> What do you imagine yourself to be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Anything that can be imagined cannot be True.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What if Superman somehow forgot that he was Superman, and really believed that he WAS Clark Kent?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/a8zIE7Tkw3c?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<em>* Nisargadatta Maharaj</em></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-85825121588607245522011-05-23T10:28:00.000-07:002011-05-23T10:51:49.205-07:00My Name is Michael, And I Am an Addict<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">My name is Michael, and I am an addict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I’m not addicted to drugs, or alcohol, or sex (although there might be some debate about that one), food, or even to watching corny TV shows like American Idol or Glee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, maybe Glee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I am not addicted to Glee!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, maybe I am.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">No, no…my addiction is much more insidious, much more devastating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">See, I am addicted to experience.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">I love experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the experience of the warmth of this cup of coffee I’m having right now, the explosion of flavor as I take a drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the experience of the sunshine on my arms and the wind against my skin as I ride my bike south on 56<sup>th</sup> street; right where the pavement turns to dirt, with the Mcdowells standing guard over the Eastern horizon and Ben Harper’s magnificent Weissenborn tickling my ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the energy of movement as 10 beautiful people dive headfirst into their own experience at the insistence of my voice, their breath mingling with my breath, their bodies a wave of integrated Shakti illuminating the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the sweetness of the mornings, listening to Mozart’s symphony #1 in E-flat on my way to work, and even the way this keyboard is responding to my fingers right now, how the photographs on my screensaver remind me of other past experiences. I love how my body opens when my muscles are warm, when there is perfection in form, my being lovingly held by sinuous fingers and bursting forth with boundless expression. I love the sound of a drum, and the openness of my friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the warmth of my wife’s touch, the music of her voice, and especially the tinkling wonder of her laughter, even when it is directed at me, as it usually is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">I even love the “bad” experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love when I am sick and I think it is the end of the world simply because I have an overabundance of mucus and Emma won’t give me a kiss because I have cooties and my voice sounds like a Peanut’s cartoon teacher in my own ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love when I have a shitty yoga class, and my body won’t respond the way that I want it to, and my back hurts, and there are sudden elaborate fantasies in my mind of beating people over the head with pieces of prosthetic equipment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love thinking of my grandfather, his brutal honesty, his meeting and leaving life with the same conviction and dedication. I love when my wife is angry at me, and the blinding spotlight of attention is turned inward, toward my every beautiful failing, my every wondrous fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the tremble of her lip and the lash of her tongue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I love standing at the side of the road with a flat tire on my bike, alone in the world, with no one to call and no one to help, the traffic whizzing by, faces in the car windows blank with memories, the sun a bright white hot scar, the sky open and inviting but offering nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alone at the bottom of West Clear Creek Canyon, with the monsoon thundering, swimming naked in the rushing creek, the last man on earth:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 15.6pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.75pt;"><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I won't be the last<br />
I won't be the first<br />
Find a way to where the sky meets the earth<br />
It's all right and all wrong<br />
For me it begins at the end of the road<br />
We come and go...</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></div><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 15.6pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.75pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">My name is Michael, and I am an addict</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 15.6pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.75pt;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 15.6pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.75pt;"><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">What is it about experience then that I am so addicted to?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">Feel this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Perhaps, just perhaps, experience provides me with a sense of something…like…say...relief?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Relief from what?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I want the experience of love; because I feel…I don’t have love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So then I seek the experience of love- in family, in relationship, even within myself.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I want the experience of security, because I feel...insecure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vulnerable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I seek the experience of security, in money, in work, in a good 401K, shore up my health, take precautions against the surety of my eventual and inevitable demise.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I want the experience of virtue; because I feel...I am not virtuous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I try to live according to tenets, be a good person, whether that entails being kind, being selfless, helping grandmas across the street, not hurting animals, or saving the whales.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or saving you, because I want the experience of showing you virtue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I feel…that you are also not virtuous.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I want the experience of happiness, because I feel...I am not happy. So I look for happiness in every experience.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I want the experience of Freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I feel…I am not free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is when it hits me!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">There is no experience of freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Freedom is the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">absence of the addiction to experience.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Feel this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do that.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">And the questioning now leads me, not to the answer, but to the purpose of the question:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All questioning, all spirituality, all religion, all seeking, all experience itself has only one essential purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything I do, everything I am has only one quintessential purpose:</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Exhaustion.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Experience is so fickle, so fleeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Experience comes and goes, leaving no real lasting impression, save perhaps memories, which are really nothing more than bundles of emotionally charged thoughts.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">Experience doesn’t last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">My addiction to experience leads me to only to death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the experiences, from the blazing awakenings and tear jerkingly beautiful to the devastatingly tragic – come and go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only constant is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Me, </i>yet I’m banking on what is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Other than me, </i>to provide relief, comfort, peace, fulfillment, happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> My addiction to experience leads me only to the death of the addiction to experience. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">I am addicted to experience <em>so that I can exhaust myself of experience</em>; wear myself out, give up, finally stop running, towards experience, or away from experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always seeking some<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thing</i> that continually changes and is never permanent.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="background-color: black;">I am so in love with the experience of being addicted to experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">When running, desperately looking for <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rest</i></b>, you have a choice:</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Stop running.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Run faster.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">My name is Michael, and I am an addict.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Calibri;">Yes, this is hard to watch, but watch it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watch it move from tragic to heart wrenchingly beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But most of all, listen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen to Rocky’s poem at the very end, where he sums up the finality of experience in one final, illuminating breath.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/b7tJtLw7BE8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-19802525794212547502011-03-17T15:49:00.000-07:002011-03-17T21:15:58.241-07:00No Tradebacks<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">When I was born, I WAS GOD.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was God, and in those moments when I struggled</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">through sweat and screams and slipped into the cold hard hands</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">of this reality, I held EVERYTHING </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">everything</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">in </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">my tiny</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">clenched fists.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was GOD and I held every question to every answer</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">every answer that has ever been questioned</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">eternal questions</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">internal answers </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I whispered external </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">in sweet placental speech</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>delivered into a world of pinky fingers.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was GOD </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">born reciting bibles</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">proverbs texts and tablets</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">sermons and psalms</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">translating truth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">speaking cosmology </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">in every dialect known to man</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and some unknown</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they taught me language </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with chin tickling fingers and funny faces </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>goo goo ga ga<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>coochie coochie coo.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was solving problems</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">converting mathematics to bone</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">physics to muscle</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">biology to blood</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was building intricate networks of</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">microfillament tinker toy neuro-electrical synapses</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and they said</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>oh isn't that cute!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was red and yellow and black and white</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and all shades of earth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and they held me in front of a mirror</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">pointed to my soft shallow shell </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">over and over</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thats you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thats you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">until I could no longer recognize myself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I defied gravity because I breathed magic</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">They grounded me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">holding my hands, cooing</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">take a step </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> take a step</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">when I was already leaping off the planet</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">leaving them all behind</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I sat in the sun</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">feeling grass and dirt pulse</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">intimately conversing with trees and sky</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">discussing the developing universe</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and the existential qualities of man</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">drinking rain and feasting on clouds</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and they came along</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">scooped me up </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">brushed me off</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">scolded me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now look!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>You peed your pants!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>You pooped your diaper!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I played with angels unicorns and dragons</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">made faces at gargoyles</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">My imaginary friends were ancestors</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I danced with elves and faires through</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">fields of non-fiction BECAUSE THERE WAS</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">NO FICTION ONLY THE </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TEXTURE</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">COLOR </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">SHAPE </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">FORMING</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">BEFORE MY NEWLY OPENED EYES</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was GOD!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and I TRADED IT ALL IN.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I traded it all in</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I offered them every key to every past and every future</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">to every lock and chain</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">every shackle of every heart and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mind</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">incarcerated in this prison: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and they said</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Now honey, don't play with those, you might lose them</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">taking them away</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">pressing into my hand a plastic reproduction</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">they believed opened all doors.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I gave them the mystery of immortality</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">they gave me superheroes and Scooby-Doo underwear.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I gave them future personified</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">they gave me a Big Wheel and a Brady Bunch lunchbox.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I gave them hope</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">they gave me history, I repeat</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">history, I repeat</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">this-story.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I gave them eternity</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">they gave me bedtime.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I traded it all in</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">No tradebacks.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I learned to see with my eyes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and all my imaginery friends disappeared<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: #cccccc;">(poof) </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">left me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">became cold<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">sculptured<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">stone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I was god</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">No tradebacks</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">But you know, I don't blame them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">don't hold it against them</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">don't judge them</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I love them even more</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">because I KNOW THEY WERE GOD ONCE TOO</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We are all </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">still</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">God.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">and it is so easy learning to forget</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">so difficult this journey through life </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">grasping to remember</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hwyuQbIb0Xs?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-2201622854844542512011-03-08T13:07:00.000-08:002011-03-09T11:03:27.882-08:00The Miraculous Free Fall Into Unknowing<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We are, you could say, a species of know-it-alls. Not just know-it-alls, but the worst kind of know-it-alls.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We are the know-it-alls that are sometimes right. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">How annoying.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Even when we don’t know, we think we know. We just plain hate to not know. In fact, there is such a stigma attached to <i>not knowing</i> that it permeates every facet of our lives. Think about it:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In school, the teacher asks a difficult question, and no one raises their hand. Remember this? Remember being the student sweating in fear that you will be called upon. Even if you thought you knew the answer, being called upon was still overwhelmingly frightening. What if I am not right? What if the terrible horrible devastatingly embarrassing truth that I DON’T KNOW is revealed for all to see!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">How does it feel to be called “ignorant”? Feels kinda nasty. Like there is something in this word that is insulting to your character. Most people equate “ignorant” with “stupid” and the words are used interchangeably. Yet, the definition of “ignorant” is simply:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ignorant. (adj): Lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It simply means </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>not knowing.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We have such a deep dysfunctional relationship with </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>not knowing</i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> that we do everything in our power to avoid admitting it, even to ourselves.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We simply do not know what the next moment will bring, and this is unacceptable to our conditioned mind, which then <i>creates</i> a scenario and imagines that it knows, and the result of this is expectation. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Expectation is a symptom of our internal avoidance of the reality of </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>not knowing</i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, and creates what could be called the root of suffering: the gap between what we <i>think </i>should be happening (could happen, should happen, will happen) and what <i>actually is happening.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">How does this work out for us? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Things simply happen, despite what we expect. We cannot know. No matter how much we rely on our conceptual learning, our thoughts, to shield us from the dangerous territory of the unknown, we end up in that dreaded landscape. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Yet, the unknown is the ground of all knowing! </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">There can never be anything known without there first being not-knowing!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">See how ridiculous this is? How delusional? We have a negative perspective, a dysfunctional relationship, with the natural, inevitable, completely necessary fundamental building block of all knowing! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">And herein lies the paradox, at least when it comes to spirituality:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">This extreme discomfort with not-knowing fuels our motivation to learn and experience. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We turn our learned ideas and concepts into a cocktail of belief and faith. This conceptual cocktail becomes who we think we are and how we see the world and our place in it, and we then must expend enormous amounts of energy defending, reinforcing it, and holding onto it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We take stories told to us and things we have read to have meaning, and assign that meaning to our own experience, diluting what is happening in the present moment, to our <i>interpretation </i>of what is happening. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We mistake what we <i>think we know </i>for who we are. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">And of course, what we think we know is different than what someone else thinks they know, and there must be a right and a wrong, and usually it is them that are wrong. And if our concepts that we have mistaken for “ourselves” are questioned, or spoken against, we must defend them, as we are engaged here in the literal act of <b>self-survival</b>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Even if it is “right for me” or “wrong for me”, it is still a duality. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Separation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So we think the more we learn, the more we memorize, the more we understand, the closer and closer we will get to the Truth, to God, Peace, Oneness, in whatever name or form you chose to call it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Yet the fact is, the Truth cannot be known. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can you consider that everything you have learned must be questioned relentlessly and discarded? Can you consider that the point of questions is not answers, but instead, more questions, leading to more questions, until the questioning is exhausted. Until it is seen that all questions and all answers are meaningless?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What is it like to let go of all conceptualizations, all viewpoints, all ideas? Is it possible to relax into the miraculous free fall of not-knowing?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">In this classic clip, Lou isn’t pissed because Bud is fucking with him. Bud is serious. Lou is agonizingly frustrated because he <i>doesn’t know no matter how much he learns! </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Seem familiar? Kinda like stumbling around, looking for your own eyeballs.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/sShMA85pv8M?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-58484565631384955302011-03-04T22:03:00.000-08:002011-03-05T06:20:10.427-08:00The Implacable Idea<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We are all seekers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this is fairly obvious to most of us, even if we don’t want to admit it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are all looking for something, and the strange thing is- we are all looking for the same thing, just in different, and of course, all the wrong, places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>We could call it happiness, or peace, or satisfaction, or fulfillment, doesn’t really matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">What matters is that we must realize that it can never, ever be found.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Yes, that’s right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Give it up- the search is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It ain’t happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can go on and on about all the wrong places where we have conducted our search- in relationships, or in money, in our jobs, in material possessions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we could mention all the “hidden” places that we never think about, but are even more convinced that elusive “something” is hiding- like our opinions, our beliefs, our viewpoints, our lifestyles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Even our most cherished spiritual beliefs, no matter how comforting, or how much we believe they make us good people, do not seem to hold the slippery truth that we so desperately seek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We may even come to the conclusion that it <em>is</em> possible to find what we are looking for, in just letting go of all the rest of it, and resting in “stillness”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And then we give “Stillness” it’s myriad of names:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Space, Presence, Source, Awareness, Consciousness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Sounds logical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We just need to realize that we can never find true happiness, peace, fulfillment in any ‘thing”, any object, and instead, if we can just “be” with what is happening now, and find stillness, we will discover the true happiness that is available to us all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But this, this is the biggest trap of them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We effectively turn “stillness” into just another object to attain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we practice hard enough, understand enough, somehow “let it all go”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">How well has that worked for us?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We think we can find happiness in relationships, so we seek the perfect person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We discover that to not be true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We think we can find it in our jobs, money, material possessions, and we discover the sad truth of this. And, we think we can find it in spirituality, in religion, in belief. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Yet, somehow true, lasting fulfillment continues to elude us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>So maybe we hear about “stillness” and “connection”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe we hear about letting go, allowing, “being in the moment”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Still, where is that true, encompassing, wonderful sense of peace, ease, fulfillment in our lives? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We may find moments of peace, but it never lasts.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">See, seeking is seeking, no matter how you are seeking, or what you are looking for, even if it is God or Stillness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The person you think you are does not seek; the person you think you are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is intimately constructed of seeking</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seeking is inherent in the most fundamental mistake you are making, and have been making all your life.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You are seeking happiness, fulfillment, peace, God, in whatever name or form you give it, because you are convinced <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that you do not already have it</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You can <strong>never</strong> have it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You cannot have it, because you <strong>ARE</strong> it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">See that there is only one thing, one simple thing that limits us, that keeps us from being free, and that is the unshakable, learned and constantly reinforced IDEA that we are not.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">An idea.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">An idea that is intricately woven into the fabric of your existence, and which is so fundamental <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that it has never even been questioned</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">So, what is this idea made of?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/L9Qp5osoH8s?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-35244087286187146732011-02-27T18:30:00.000-08:002011-02-27T18:30:38.994-08:00Mis-Management<div align="center">There is the View</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And within the view, are viewpoints.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">From which do you see the world?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The View</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Or the viewpoints.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Notice how much energy it takes to maintain the story of you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-80213740917029141072011-02-20T13:57:00.000-08:002011-02-20T13:57:12.030-08:00Freedom Is Just Another Word For...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s pretty important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It must be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>In the final climatic scene of Braveheart, when William Wallace is displayed on the executioner’s stone and about to have his insides roughly delegated to his outsides, his final resounding exclamation isn’t “Ouchh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or “WTF!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call a freakin’ ambulance!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Nope, instead it is simply, “Freedom!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">So, seems like there is something to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Yet, for all it’s importance, it also seems like many, if not most people, rarely investigate what exactly freedom is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is freedom?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">If we look at it, perhaps with the lens zoomed in, we could say that freedom is very simply the ability to do what I want, say what I want, think what I want, and be what I want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wouldn’t you say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a working definition, this about sums it up?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Yet it seems like our perspective of freedom here has some strings attached, doesn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a rider in the fine print, which perhaps we don’t notice at first when we view freedom through this lens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">George Bernard Shaw once wrote that there are two great tragedies in life: not getting what you want, and getting what you want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See, it’s the wanting that screws up our definition of freedom. Even though we could say this is freedom, it is bound by our desire, and I don’t know about you, but my desires are anything but reliable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t trust ‘em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either can you..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Maybe it is just me, but hell, most of the time, I don’t even know what I want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wants are constantly changing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are fickle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One minute I want the “Gotta Have It” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>size double mint chocolate rocky road ice cream from Cold Stone, and at the same time I don’t want ice cream at all; I want a salad with balsamic dressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I want a promotion at work, the next moment I’m thinking about getting a new job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the single ladies want a ring on it, and then ten minutes later are lovin’ being single and wouldn’t trade it for the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m driving an old Jeep, and I want a new car, yet at the same time, I love my old Jeep (and my lack of a car payment) and the desire fizzles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I just want my old Jeep to keep running.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This is the dilemma of desire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you get want you want, you end up wanting the opposite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crazy, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And definitely not freedom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But why do you suppose this is?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we have some faulty wiring in the brain?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Or is it possible that on some visceral level, some very deep space within our being, we know that our wants can never satisfy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know we can find no fulfillment in them, no solutions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because they constantly change, we cannot rely on them to bring us freedom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">If we zoom the lens out, and expand our view, we will begin to notice how useless desire is – indeed, not just useless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Desire is a lie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">An outright lie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Every single desire is based on the idea that things can be different, or should be different, than how they are, and that is simply not true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This moment can never be any different than the way it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It cannot be better, nor can it be worse. Things are always the way they are.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Don’t take my word for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Check it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can this moment right now, be any different than it is?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">When this is understood, something really wonderful happens: we begin to see through the lie, and begin to allow for what is to simply be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s going to be anyway, no matter how much you desire it otherwise, so why not simply allow it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But do not fall into the trap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You cannot stop wanting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You cannot end desire. As a matter of fact, desire is necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The desire for freedom is the ultimate desire, and must be burning, unending, implacable and wholehearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just see it for what it is: a necessary lie.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But beyond a resigning acceptance of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what is</i>, is it possible to actually turn the desire, and begin <u>wanting</u> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what is</i>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Instant happiness!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you bring all the energy and drama of your desire and place it on what is happening right now, boom!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your desire is instantly fulfilled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> How could it not be? If you desire what is happening, and it is happening, then you are getting what you want. Always! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Cool, huh?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You can do this. You can actually want what is happening right now, whatever it might be, with the same enthusiasm that you bring to any other of your unreliable desires. However, this freedom does come with a price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this desire to be reliable, you have to give something up, because in wholeheartedly wanting <em>what is</em>, instead of the lie that <em>what is</em> could be different, there is nothing for you to do. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have to give up the idea that you can change <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what is</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And so true freedom then, in our expanded view, could be defined as the absence of the desire for things to be any different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or said the opposite way: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">the wholehearted desire for things to be exactly as they are.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To have continual gratitude for each moment as it arises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will still be desires, for they are also what is happening, but it will no longer matter whether they are fulfilled our not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our satisfaction, our contentment, is in the appearance of whatever is in the moment itself.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">By saying “yes” to each unfolding moment, even when that moment contains desire, is to invite an open playful curiosity about what is happening, no matter what the results or outcome of that moment is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is true freedom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Saying yes, is playing the wildcard:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/MYtjpIwamos?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-6009946657687088532011-02-17T10:25:00.000-08:002011-02-17T10:32:28.855-08:00Just Stop And Look. Or Don't Stop And Look. And Then Stop. And Look.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve found it folks!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve discovered it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>True happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The way to eternal peace, contentment, satisfaction, fulfillment.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s so amazingly simple, and here it is:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stop</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thinking</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">About </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s it! Just stop!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stop reflecting, contemplating, ruminating, analyzing, perpending, poring over, meditating upon.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stop dwelling on, fixating on, fretting about, reviewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just stop kicking shit around.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The amazing thing is that this requires nothing from you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t have to be intelligent, or creative, or eat certain foods, look a certain way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t have to wrap your legs around your head, prostrate at the feet of anyone; no purification is required. You don’t have to remember elaborate rules or rituals, retain and repeat mantras or codices, scriptures,or traditions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It requires no special experiences, higher states, visions or insights. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most importantly, it requires no belief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t have to take my word for it, or Jesus’ word for it, or Krishna’s, or Eckhart Tolle’s, or your mother’s, or even the most highly revered and respected spiritual teacher or leader you can imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">People have sat around thinking and come up with elaborate ideas, some which become really cool books, that we read and then sit around thinking about. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">People have had wonderful elaborate experiences with lights and fireworks and metaphysical energies and spirits bouncing off their foreheads and then sat around thinking about these experiences, interpreting them, sharing these stories, and then we sit around thinking about them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They are just stories.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, I’m not saying “stop thinking”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not advising you to give up solving the math problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not suggesting you toss the term paper, or use “ennie meenie miney mo” to make your most important decisions, although that would really be fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not saying kill the mind, or your thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just don’t be a tool for your tool.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All I am saying is: the mind is like a computer, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You tell your computer to open that excel file, look at the data, work with the data, and then close the excel file.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After you leave the computer, it doesn’t sit there reminiscing about that excel file.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t try and figure out the motivations behind it, the effects of it; it doesn’t worry about whether the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>file is good enough or how the world will interpret it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To the computer, the file is just there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m writing this blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I highlight everything on this page, and hit “delete”, what remains?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All that is required is one simple thing:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just look.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve been working with this, and I’ve discovered a few things. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the simplest, most effective, most wonderfully available and accessible spiritual practice ever.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is exceedingly difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really, really difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the words of my dear late Grandpa, it is <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“pert near” freakin’ impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is difficult because it is so simple.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yet it is possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Short moments of resting the endless stream of imagining by just looking right now, again and again, become automatic.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over and over, again and again, whenever you remind yourself, simply stop and look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wherever you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At any time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In this simple seeing, this simple noticing of our addiction to the stream of incessant chatter in the mind, something wonderful happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When attention is shifted from what is unreal (thoughts about the past or the future) to what is actual, what is happening right in this moment, without naming it, without thinking about it, a simple playfulness arises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A curiosity arises, like the spontaneous questioning of a child.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wouldn’t you agree that the most profound insights, the most wonderful and helpful inventions, the clearest expressions of being are born from this playful, open, curiosity?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I notice- thoughts arise and dissolve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of them I am interested in, some I am not.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The thoughts I am not interested in, dissolve and are gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thoughts I am interested in, stick around and become “mine”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I make something of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take these unreal, insubstantial, fluid, fleeting pieces of nothing and I claim them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They become “my” thoughts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My opinions</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My judgments</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My ideas</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My beliefs</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My problems</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My solutions</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My memories</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My history</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>become</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But when I stay focused on what is actual ,what is happening now, without naming, labeling, associating, creating stories, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the reflecting mechanism of my mind collapses, and where are these thoughts?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In this direct seeing, where is the “Me”?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aha!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stop and look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>It doesn’t take a slap in the face!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, maybe sometimes it does:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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</div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-18534130183024285942011-02-15T11:43:00.000-08:002011-02-15T14:33:45.298-08:00When You Cease To Strive To Understand, You will Know, Without Understanding.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"If a man wishes to be sure of the road he treads on, he must<br />
close his eyes and walk in the dark."<br />
~St. John of the Cross </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> <br />
</span><br />
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I love this quote. It reminds me of what I must give up. What has to be abandoned, because what is required to walk a road in the dark is much less than what we cling to. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It takes only two things: attention and trust.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Anything that distracts my attention from the road beneath my feet is a trap – something that can lead me off into the darkness. There are no landmarks to be seen on this road, so there can be no value in anything explained to me, or told to me, or learned by me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I can have descriptions of the nature of the road, stories of what the road means, metaphors, symbols and ideas about the road, but all of this will only distract me, keep me looking off into the darkness, unseeing, instead of my attention being firmly planted in just this:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One step. Then another. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then another.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Steps. That is all. That is all that is required.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One step. Then another. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then another.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Nothing learned can be retained. No belief about where the road leads, or what the road means, will help me to be sure of my footing upon it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But this, closing my eyes, is not shutting anything out, it is allowing the darkness in. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It is resting in the space that is unknown, that can’t be known.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But can be trusted.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But to trust in what? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that the road will lead me from the darkness to the light?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that walking this road will make me a better person? Give me what I need? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that my walking the road is better than not walking the road, or walking some other road?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that at the end of this road, or at anytime during my walk on the road, I will be rewarded, or punished, or will be free, or live more peacefully, give more, receive more, be more?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that there is something, or someone keeping track of my progress as I walk, giving my walk meaning? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Trust that there is something to be gained, to be achieved, some conclusion to be reached?</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I can take none of this with me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">All beliefs to be flung into the darkness, useless except for taking my attention away from this:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One step. Then another. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then another.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">This is all that I can trust.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One step. Then another. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then another.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">This is all there is.</span></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/EadMQ4cnK8A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1957373187087473589.post-84229537665073853132011-02-10T22:07:00.000-08:002011-02-15T11:27:06.194-08:00Geez, just Stop Why Dont' Ya!Recently, I attended a discussion on the purpose(lessness) of spirituality. I think this parable sums it up nicely. This is bastardized from Adya, but he won't mind, him being me and all.<br />
<br />
Guy is jogging, just running along. Another guy runs up beside him and asks,<br />
"Hey, what are you doing?"<br />
Jogger says, "I'm running".<br />
Other guy says, "What for"<br />
Jogging dude replies, "Running, man. I'm trying find something".<br />
Other guy asks, "What are you trying to find".<br />
Jogger answers, "Rest".<br />
"Rest? "Um, like, why don't you just, like, stop running?"<br />
Jogger gets excited. "Holy crap! I didn't think of that! Great idea! What a minute. I can't! I can't stop! I can't stop running, what will I do?!?<br />
Other guy, who by the way turns out to be God, only with a bad 80's mullet, says,<br />
"Hey, run faster. Run like hell, flat out! It's just around the corner, Run! Run until you are exhausted, and soon enough Rest will find you".Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00055261258142401913noreply@blogger.com1