The Folly of Blame

You were the fallen one I blamed

Irredeemable, offensive to my heart

A splinter in my mind, abhorrent to my eyes

Your mere existence torturing my own

Out of my need to annihilate you

To wipe my world clean of you

And thus achieve utopia

A world liberated from the memory of you

I birthed a scheme: a drastic plan

A solution final, terrible and cold

And so I summoned by my Will alone

A Portal dark and fascinating overhead

A hole in heaven, beyond which lay

Dimensions distant, utter Hell

The regions where abominations dwell

A place for all the things that never should have been

For rejects of creation, by wholesome eyes unseen

My heart I sent to lie in wait for you

The bait I set just past the threshold

Instantly it took a form grotesque

And yet my machination held, I would not yield

So rigid was my Will to see this horror through

But oh! did fear and consternation strike

When, step by step, the mouth of Hell

Did swallow up my heart instead

And with each step, a path was forged

For unforgiving souls to blindly follow in my wake

And only once the realization came

As I lay gasping at the knowledge of my doom

Was all of it dissolved, another dream

To show me: I am Will, the world my mirror

And you and I shall never parted be

By knowing what perdition means

I am not fixed, nor are my debts released

But in the grace of loving kindness held

My heart can feel how liberation flows

And when the poison turns to nectar

Even monsters make their journey home

The last mile

At rest, turning inward

Withdrawing belief from the thought of separation

All dimensions collapse into one dimensionless here-now-being

What is breathed but the stuff of eternity

Channeled through a passing form?

The revelation of our common essence, boundless, intertwined

Forms like dewdrops shimmering under the radiant moon

Precipitating through the matrix of reality

Like milk from the eternal Mother’s breast

To nourish you, her child, on your soul’s journey of growth

The vessel that carries your point of awareness

Is contained within awareness

A part of creation here to host a part of the creator

Awakened, you partake of your totality

And are overtaken by waves of overflowing gratitude and praise for all!

All the treasures of the tendermost Heart of reality

Are yours to discover in these inner realms

That open ceaselessly and multiply their blessingness

As you freely give of the abundance that you are

And close that final gap between receiver and the Source

As human beings, we are here to shine for one another

Every shock and inconvenience in the world

Another chance to let go of the attachment to appearances

And dive within to reunite with our precious pearl of peace

And let things play out as is the wont of their perfection

Your reality reflects your state of being

Your suffering begs you to come back home again

To yourself, the vastness holding time and space

Where singularity extends and fractalizes out

To make this wonder of a Technicolor world

What makes anything true… is you

What you choose to feel… becomes the real

You are the magic, you are the life

So spend the present as you will

And know yourself… or be made to know… the game is rigged. ;)

-------------

Today’s lines owe their existence to the excellent and groundbreaking work of Dr Joe Dispenza (particularly this YouTube video), which inspired me in the midst of a very difficult time of intense victim thoughts to stop, quiet down, draw from the well, and bring something through that last mile of personal consciousness interweb connection by actually sitting down and setting hand to keyboard. It’s a start. I’m really grateful to have this chance. I don’t even care if what I wrote is any good. It came from my heart, and the feeling of creative flow was very much its own reward. Not to mention how incredibly good it felt to make live contact with the deeper currents of reality… from which I eagerly anticipate bringing lots more goodies forward!

I hope you have a great day. I love you.

Visiting Home

the world is always ending

and always being born anew

simultaneously saturated with meaning

and free of set interpretation

feel the overwhelming intensity of fullness

and rest in the vast, primordial emptiness

be at one with the waves and the ocean floor

let the scent of eternity reveal this moment’s priceless reality

complete unto itself, yet layered, interwoven,

interpenetrating every moment in the fabric of totality

the warming suchness of a fire crackling in the stove

the electric pinpoint radiance of little incandescent lights

the dark, cool breath of the spacious outside air

and the deep, bracing chill of the river gurgling past

a moment to sit and let feelings precipitate into words

a moment to appreciate this gift of life

without expectation or encumbrance

a moment to settle into the symphony of the senses

and wonder at this grand mystery of ultimate simplicity

on a quiet Wednesday morning in my parents’ homely house

on the threshold of ancient Lapland

just before the season’s longest night

and the Sun’s most dearly welcome journey back

towards the magical promise of Midsummer

Disturbed – The Sound of Silence (432 Hz)

core of cosmic tragedy

cause of founding agony

body, soul, and spirit split

brothers made strangers

islands of burning anguish

in a sea of cold indifference

you do not feel

your pain is too great

I tell you, walking dead one

yet the life within you cries out

for remembrance

only to be heard

through the sound of silence

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

Fools, said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Moments, hours, eternities – and Isness – of our journey into Phi

Tyranny, rebellion, victimhood, blame,

playing our false games of power,

fearing and hating Kali the Destroyer,

marshaling our forces against Her

to stave off our impending doom,

forgetting that she is Mother Gaia herself,

even while we yearn for the End of War

and the experience of the eternal, flowing Dance of Timelessness and Time,

but we have forgotten the only truth that matters:

that we know not the hour of our death,

nor will we be spared pain,

but that the deeper we dive into clear and empty Stillness,

the more we settle into Being

and the more purely, joyously, and valiantly we can shine for her

in thought, word, and deed
 
the more beautifully She reflects back at us

what the unified Will of Love has wrought!

She gives birth to form

yet form is a dream

a shape for the shapeless

a sound for the silent

which, for as long as we remain ignorant and desolate,

remains a nightmare, a living death

hunted by our fears,

haunted by our hurts;

a tragedy,

a hollow circus,

the grinding wheel of karma,

a puppet show;

a drama of duality,

a game,

a school,

a stage play;

a healing opportunity

and an ever-present Now,

blessing and blessed, through and through.

Illuminating shadows, facing fears

expressing freely

nothing to gain or lose

except for Soul, the one thing at stake;

expressing will

passion aflame (fire of the gods)

Knowledge revealed

finding Courage and Steadfastness

Patience and Humility;

Reconciliation,

witnessing the Miracle;

Balance and Peace;

Gratitude,

Surrender;

Yes to the Yes (to the no to the maybe);

Levity, Liberation, Release;

tears of Joy and Gladness,

Nakedness,

Connection,

nothing on the agenda but Love

inspiring us to kinship, cooperation, community, compassion, equality, respect for nature, giving our very best,

working together to manifest a new and bolder vision of reality,

one responsive to our true desires,

an adventure into the unknown,

a collective fractal work of art

forever coming, forever going,

existing Now.

XVI. The Tower

How heartbreaking it is
to deeply realize
that you have been living a lie


How it burns and crushes
to have your false-self-centered patterns
of blind, compulsive, destructive behavior
exposed and called out
in the full light of awareness


How devastating
to see that the centermost pillar
on which you had based your illusory identity
and rationale for existence
has been a ruse of fractured mind


How terrifying
to have your most jealously guarded mental possessions
not only challenged
but positively destroyed
by a truth whose name you had dared not breathe

How agonizing
to resist an all-consuming flame
that promises to transmute everything you are
through the portal of death
into a life everlasting
where the you that you had thought was you
has forever ceased to be

A Threshold beckons:
is it a Maw of Hell
or a Gateway to Heaven?
Will we be dictated to by Time and Space
consoling ourselves momentarily with visions
of a Cloud Cuckoo Land caricature of our eternal Home?


What we must realize
is that neither Heaven nor Hell as such
truly exist as places behind or ahead in time
but only now, right now where we are:
the one a maelstrom of thoughts circling the drain

the other an abiding Peace

Love is the password and the key
it is our ticket to freedom
our guiding star
and our inner fire
One resonating Light



Our destination lies within

Compassion

Compassion is the balm

for a mind seared by the revelation

of its own insanity

the bridge to wholeness

for a heart torn asunder

by the pain of past lovelessness

a simple message:

"I see you where you are

as you are

I am wholly present with you

even in the midst of this experience"

Mindwalk: The Turning Point

Mindwalk (1990) depicts a conversation between three Americans in France: a politician, a scientist, and a poet. The dialogue is well-paced, intelligent, and human. The politician wants to find a way to help fix the world but is stymied by the constraints of the political environment. The scientist has spent some years in contemplative isolation after seeing her work exploited for military use. The poet... well, the poet is the life of the party. These three will not leave each other unchanged.

Know Thy Self, Not What Separate You Pretends to Know. This Unleashes Power Truly.

Brian Steere's stimulating comment on the latest Smoking Mirrors:

"I see Materialism as the reversal of cause/effect by which an illusion of power operates upon and within an illusion of powerlessness.

Source or true Cause is Eternally Indivisible, and yet our human consciousness is a facet of a fragmented disintegrity in which coercive power seems to divide and rule in power OVER Life.

In the wish-attempt to control Life is the reflection of dissonance and disorder which reinforces its own 'foundation'.

The more coercive or fear-defined control is asserted, the more out of control one's self-world experience.

Relinquishing a phoney power allows spontaneous yielding to true harmony of a wholeness of being in resonant relation within all that is presencing itself.

The abyss can symbolize the nothingness of destruction or insanity - but it can also indicate the not-knowing through which Life Knows Itself Truly. For the belief one already knows is the dark lens by which one sees nothing truly.

An unyielding point of view operates 'denial' and wars not with reality but within itself as a denial of awareness of reality - of what is true to the reality that You Are.

To fit or limit oneself to a machine is a chosen condition, but to persist becomes a self-conditioning. But self-definition remains a creative acceptance of true function and not a coercive imposition of power upon powerlessness. Nor a hiding of the illusion of power within a belief in powerlessness."

source permalink

Thoughts arise like ripples spreading and interpenetrating in a shaded, reflecting pool:

The thought of separateness is diametrically opposed to the natural flow, one hundred eighty degrees removed from the viewpoint of Unity.

The more our conscious and unconscious identifications are rooted in this erroneous orientation, the more personal effort our false self must expend to maintain its identity and negotiate a world of external entities, uncertainty, injustice, and existential danger.

This sense of being under threat, forced to respond to demands and attacks, attempting to achieve some modicum of control, with no assurances but those we cling to in our minds as hope-notic self-calming suggestions and beliefs...

makes our psychic and energy bodies curl in on themselves, shrivel and harden, as the flow of natural being is cut off by our misalignment with the native state that is our access key to the Source Field from which we spring. By our resistance to what we feel.

Resisting pain, ignoring or fearing discomfort, blaming the world, translates on the opposite end of the scale to a sense of lacking that which is desired and a hesitance to give or receive Love to the fullest, a fear of surrender commensurate with our addiction to control.

We are indeed at war: at war with ourselves.

The shadow,
all that we have broken ourselves away from,
is the judged,
abandoned,
ignored,
unseen,
forgotten,
and innermost piece of ourselves:

the innocence that we lost touch with
when we slipped into our hallucination
of smoking funhouse mirrors,
forged our protective armaments,
built up our defensive walls,
imprisoned and exiled ourselves away
from free, untainted air
and happy days and nights,
from children's laughter,
men and women's work and play
the elders' guiding wisdom,
communion with the spirits
of our celestial ancestors and future generations,

from brotherhood with animals
with flowers, trees, and birds,
from living skies and speaking stones
and waters clear and bright,

in a land now lost and far away,
a fading memory:
our Home.

That homesickness you feel?

Your heart it is that calls.

Your heart is always home,
and there it waits
so infinitely patient
for you to come again into its arms
so that it might communicate with you
as intimately as it did when you were born,
might see your pupils widen with the thrill of remembrance
as illumination dawns
and you regain the wealth of your Self and give
your whole self back to it with molten pleasure,
bubbling with thanks
and dancing, humming,
singing, drumming,
weeping, sighing
breathing, crying
wholehearted odes upon its sweetness,
glories, ways, and mysteries.

It wants to bathe with you in mutual delight
and teach you of the plenitudes of solitude and silence,
eternal stillness moving all.

It wants to show you, teach you, let you feel
the meanings of everything:
of all events and forms and creatures you encounter,
en la belle langue perpétuel d'amour.

It wants to reward you for the everything that you are,
fulfill its every desire and take you along for the ride,
remind you in a million billion ways
of how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are,
just the way you are.

It wants you to know that you are the Special,
that there is only One Special because there is only One Here Looking
and all that it sees is the One Special—itself—
wrapped in wonders of imagination.

The miracle the heart sees is not that the One heals all—
 for healing is simply in Love's self-abiding nature—
but that the Dream can feel so real and offer so much
to marvel at, enjoy, to feel thankful for.

So many opportunities and possibilities.
Such multidimensional depth,
such seamless synergy
and infinitely complex interconnection,
endless vistas to explore,
such different stories to live through.

So much beauty.

Such horrible, convincing ugliness
that we can feel full range and subtle nuance of sensation
on the scale from agony to ecstasy,
and all of it a dance
'twixt Love in naked action
and that same Love becostumed and beveiled...

... and none of it can ever kill, undo,
or make us more or less
than Love.

Such exquisite fantasies,
such wit and play and mirth.
Such great and rich adventures
and such joy in hard-won growth.
Such exhilarated awe at pulling off the least expected,
most satisfying outcome.
Such kinship, faith,
and confidence and grace.

Such awesome demonstrations
of the lengths that Love will go
for its Beloved.

This Love continuous
sends waves to wash you home
and flames to lick away your sins,
and yet your doubtful mind insists
on spurning, miscreating lies.

Only stop the torture toys,
let echoes fade away.
Return to harmony and live
the life created as a gift
for God's own child, the One You Are,
at one with Father-Mother.

Sing That Perfection!

Living truth is as simple as counting to one.

The One reverberates against itself by mirroring into duality.

Duality is the domain of mind.

Mind is nothing more than the occurrence of thought.

Thought is light, sound, vibration.

Vibration manifests on all octaves from primal creative impulse to the multitudinousness of apparent physicality.

Physicality on all its densities is a realm of experience.

Experience is a feedback process where information cycles through faculties called the senses.

The senses’ raw output is filtered and interpreted by mental programs to create the totality of what we are conscious of.

What we are conscious of is a distilled end product of the sum total of a vast web of streaming energy in the body-mind complex.

The body-mind complex is not a separate entity; it is part of an integral whole whose reaches and depths and spans and immensities go on forever, inwardly and outwardly, in an endless playground of mind knowing itself as an extension of the One while pretending now and then not to know, veiling parts of itself from other parts of itself for the purpose of its highest expression.

The highest expression of divinity is hidden in plain sight as all the things in experience that seem not to be divinity’s perfection.

Perfection sings itself and celebrates the miracle of existence in every quark and in every cosmos, in every catastrophe and in every triumph, in every cruel and every compassionate act, in every example of idiocy and genius, in every dissonance and in every harmony, in every desolate waste and in every paradise, in every moment of a lifetime and every moment out of time, in every shadow of denial and resistance and in every shining ray of realization and remembering.

Remembering who we are is the return of our soul’s journey to this eternal celebration.

This eternal celebration is the supportive, allowing space for the breath of creation, emanating from the One Love that we are, always were, and always will be.

-------------

To get a deeper, fuller, more rounded and grounded sense of the station that this train of thought came from, I ask you to please take an hour and twenty-three minutes of your time to take in what this lovely man has to say here.

Now you may understand why the song below is so dang catchy, and understand also why it was that I, listening to it during the end credits of The Lego Movie after taking in the movie for the fourth or fifth time in a heightened state of sensitivity, cried the living crap out of myself for the sheer emotional release of the gratitude and wonder and joy I felt at the enlightened vibes I was picking up from what I had just watched and the song I was hearing. Enjoy!

certitude (put it on)

the certain knowledge that your true, original, ultimate, enduring, and eternal nature is that of Love

regardless of how you appear to be in this moment

makes how you appear to be in this moment

ok

worthy of your own loving attention

even if you feel like you can't love

then simply love the one who feels like they can't love

no need to force love to appear where it isn't, to attempt to apply some contrived, imaginary overlay of love

that masks the bare reality of what's there

or measures it against some ideal

and demands there be something else, something better

just love the one having the experience you seem to be facing

be it circumstance, emotion, action, or whatever comes into your awareness

receive it as it is and let it be what it is

it, too, shall pass in time

when you see with the eyes of Love

you can do no wrong

your experience is alive with this truth

it is what underlies all things

go and sin no more

but forgive

and be the blessing you are here to be

for the sake of all the world

and rejoice

for all has been redeemed

in the still and mighty arms

of eternity

self serious baloney

Whom do you serve?
In what do you believe?
What end draws you?
Where does your heart dwell?

I am losing it, I fear it shall soon be gone from me
My first estate, that innocent trust,
The joyful exuberance of felt and known immediacy of Love
That infinite embrace that whispers all good things.

I fear to go where bad things roam,
Where uneasy thoughts arise, and unacceptable things
Take form, intruding ghosts
With bones to pick and haunted, hungry eyes, never sated but at the sight
Of fresh, untainted meat to ravage and subdue.

My body betrays me, my blood runs to poison.
Old age and uselessness, my fate, the thought disgusts me.
Self-suspicion arrives in time
To walk me into the arms of hate.

These are thoughts, mere idle fantasy
To titillate an easily straying mind.
What morbid fascination draws me there?
None, but streamers slip the way
And I am powerless to deny them.

Must we then walkl the road of desolation
To give ourselves a reason to seek sweet togetherness?
The pendulum...
Can we be free of it?

What surpassing sage of totality
Can meet it all with equanimity?
Where does fearless wisdom reside?
In stillness, says the stillness
By whose grace is birthed abundance and whose shadow is the abyss.

Is the shadow real?
I think it might just be imaginary,
A mathematical abstraction, like the square root of a negative
(Ironically dubbed i),
Given potency and substance by fixation and belief.

Some nagging belief structure, past its prime
Implores me to think of the risk involved
In the intoxication of the sweetness of the presence
And abandoning myself for my heart's desire.
Won't I set me up for a fall, just another tripped-up fool?

But I know this itself is a trick,
The bait-and-switch strawman rebuttal
Of something that was never at issue.
The same voice speaks:
As ever, the isolated i
Of abstraction, the one being whipped about
By forces beyond its ken,
Which, reaching, pushes away
And fleeing, finds more coming round again.
Merely envious, thinking it can never partake
Of the manna of heaven,
Forced to scorn and scoff in defense
And keep attention focused on its dead creations instead.

I AM THAT.
Let the abstraction be.
Brooding begets brooding, let it be.
Control is illusion, let it be.
Here, see this.
Here, feel that.
Be with it, surrender doing
To the torrential power of now.
Trust yourself and go with the flow.
Love beyond all concepts of love is always on the line,
Giving itself to every atom and every cubic femtometer of space.
Know this and relax into the unknowable mystery.
You are the reason you are here.
Every moment is a grace gift.
Enjoy it, embrace it,
Give your all to it,
Fall in Love with it,
And that self-serious baloney will be just another trip, over before you know it.
Thank God!

All the Love Is Here

Your Heart, Complete.

Give it away, give it away,

Your Heart goes out to the world.




If your Heart is filled with Love,

then what measure of Love could it lack?

The Heart is always complete.

It never lacks for anything, for the One-that-is-All that lives and looks out from Heart Central, Point Zero, encompasses all things and all possibilities of things.

The Heart is all-powerful.

The Heart's power resides in Spirit.

The hollowed-out heart, the dream-shadow of the ever-gnawing hunger within

Saying something's missing, something's wrong,

Is just the tempter whispering

To trick us into forgetting

That All the Love is Here.

Satan, you trickster, you!

God in disguise!

Our best disguise ever!

The inverted image of us, opposite in all ways.

Brothers and sisters, we all play this game.

It's the most exhilarating game!

When the Love is always Here, filling everything

We get the idea for a colossal joke,

The most outrageous idea in existence:

What if the Love wasn't all here?

What if we could pretend to convince our Self of the only thing that could never be true? The one true impossibility beyond the realm of all imaginable possibilities?

While these things will never be true, it is possible to imagine, believe, and subjectively have an experience that seems to tell us...

That the Love is incomplete.

That there is something outside of the Love, cut off from its embrace.

That there is something wrong, something we did that we should never have done.

That we have been separated from God.

That we've turned our backs on him,

Or that he has turned his back on us.

That we are lost, that we seek something that was lost inside us,

Something that left a hole in our Heart.

That our God is outside us, apart, incompletely present in us, not paying enough attention to us.

That God is somehow mad at us, disappointed in us.

Every molecule and atom and thought and feeling in us is totally of God!

In the eyes of God, there are no mistakes.

Everything that exists, by its own existence, claims, proves, and exercises its own right to exist, which is the equal right of all things, under the all-allowing Law of Love.

How could the Singularity, the Indivisible, the complete Love that binds All in One, as One, ever be divided?

There is nothing that is not God.

And this God, which is Love, dwells in your Heart, and in mine, and in all of our Hearts.

God likes to play peek-a-boo because it's such a thrill, such a kick:

The relief, the overflowing joy and happiness, the exhilaration

Of rediscovering, all over again,

The Love that we are.

Love is always new,

But it feels even more new

When you've thought it was lost

And then you realize that it was never lost, never lost at all, not for one nanosecond in those quintillions of years. Not in all eternity.

And you forgive everything, let go of all else

For the joy of reunion

Of the Mind with the Heart in Love Central.

Then we begin the journey of the Heart:

The never-ending, forever awesome, astounding, amazing, new rediscovery of Love!

I see You, my Love.

I see You complete, innocent, as you are, perfect and beautiful and oh so sweet.

You are playing the game with me, and I am playing the game with you,

of I Forgot You Loved Me, And How Did We Forget to Love Ourselves.

But of course, the Love that we are cannot forget! The game is to pretend we forgot, the sweeter to enjoy our remembered Unity.

Spirit holds our hand throughout all time, holds us in perfect Love,

Embraces us in the bosom of the Almighty Power,

Keeps us safe through every step of the journey of pretending.

Every moment, we are all in.

Every moment, we believe in the experience of the moment.

We create a believable illusion of forgetting

By supposing that something is Out There,

Outside of the Love that we are,

Or that we didn't get our full portion of the Love,

Or that something of our Love was taken away, and that we have to get it back.

The end of seeking is the finding that what appeared to be lost, truly never was.

The good part of the game starts when I see you again,

As my Self, only asking for Love,

And I respond only with Love, having rediscovered the sweet nectar of Love as my heart's only self-fulfilling desire.

Love is never withheld; at most, it is only ever momentarily hidden from view.

You can't really fool me.

I'll only be pretending to fall for the pretense. That's all I ever did. I just have such a wicked poker face. Totally convincing.

I am, after all, all-powerful.

You know why?

Because I don't try to control anything.

Because my Heart is One,

 The One,

That is yours and yours and yours,

And all of ours.

My Heart belongs to You,

My Heart belongs to the world, ever-giving.

Give your love away, it will come back to you.

The more you love, the less lack of love you experience.

Love is what you are.

So be what you are, and know that you are Love.

And see all of us here, resting in Love,

Powered, directed, and animated by Love,

Just playing the game.

Winning and losing are roles we play,

What matters is how we choose to play.

I would love to see you choose Love.

To be free.

Free of doubts and fears, free of lack, free of pressure and guilt.

Letting the truth-experience of Love melt all these things away

By graciously allowing them to take their course,

Transmuting them into itself,

Exposing their nonexistence as that which they appear to be, while still allowing their appearance for the purpose of demonstration of all the ways of Love and all the ways of that which appears as something other than Love.

Love sees all as Love.

Appearances are the clothes that Love wears just to give us something to see.

You see the clothes, and you can see the One Self (that you are!) wearing the clothes

When you look with the eyes of Love.

Love is on the line, asking with infinite patience for you to pick up.

Love is on offer for nothing.

You can't buy Love. It permeates everything already. It's just Here, giving itself away.

Love wants to share itself with you, and share itself with the world through you.

Love has never stopped being your perfection.

Love redeems all by knowing, remembering, and reminding that there never was a need for redemption.