Nothing Exists, Despite Appearances

With These Forced Thoughts, I Prithee, Darken Not The Mirth o' the Feast.

2011-12-29T07:13:00.000Z

If life seems unfulfilling, the fulfilment is in that disappointment. If there is suffering, know that the suffering itself is not "wrong", only judged to be uncomfortable. If the judgement is final and harsh, and the suffering is of a child abused or an innocent tortured, the despair and pain itself are what life is, right here, right now; and however Job-like the story seems to be, however unbalanced and unfair and intolerable, there is balance and justice and harmony in the same moment. There are individuals whose unfolding story will be about eradicating such injustice, and rescuing the sufferer. To be the child whose painful life is cut short by hunger is to have the privileged role of inciting another's story to altruistic action. It is all here, it is always now, and the possibilities of life manifest are endless.

Within those possibilities is the vision of a world that runs efficiently, and where fewer actions are based upon the base fears of survival. By all means, if this vision is alive for you and the plight of others seems intolerable, take whatever actions necessary to relieve some of the world's inequalities. Give generously, travel to where help is needed most, and provide what help is possible. Try not to worry that there will always be identities that, through fear, will seek to profit at the expense of others. If there is balance, and there is good, there is evil: life cannot appear without this duality, although perhaps evil can be contained and reorganised.

Life appears as it is, neutrally, unheeding of man's inhumanity to man, merely appearing thus. To let go of the need to change whatever is, is to make change more likely in the story that unfolds. To stop listening to the thoughts and judgements and categorisations that always arise in the mind is to be free to do anything at all without the identity being validated, or not, by that action. A certain natural acceptance can creep into the unfolding story, and this includes the acceptance of strong urges to change the story into what is usually judged "better". The goal is not to be either without goals or to have only noble ones. The goal is not to accept unconditionally all that seems to be. This is the goal, whatever this is, however it is judged. It is impossible to get it wrong.

I thought I'd better slip this clip in quickly whilst the holiday season is still upon this. When the kids and I watch this film I weep freely throughout, still jangling along with loads of apparent conditioning to value life. This is my favourite moment from the film, which makes clear the butterfly effect; everything unfolds just as it's meant to, and messing with it can certainly change the story! Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Lohri, and have a great Nirvana Day.

For Certainly Thou Art so Near the Gulf, Thou Needs Must Be Englutted.

2011-11-24T10:48:00.000Z

Why are we searching and what are we searching for? What is it that compels the will to seek something more, something better, something superior than what is right here and right now? Perhaps it is the legacy of survival. Perhaps we are always subconsciously striving to find the bigger prey, or the more secure shelter, or the healthiest and best-looking mate in order that the species might survive. The same imperative may well inform the spiritual search: the mission to improve our souls, to understand fully, and to exist completely and holistically in the consciousness that makes reality appear. A vague unsettled-ness pervades our perception. The feeling that something is missing, and that things are never complete and accepted just as they are may very well be a healthy urge to constantly better our circumstances, and put off the death of the body and the mind by virtue of stabler shelter, ever more protective and loving relationships, and increasingly healthy and satisfying food. The "spiritual" goals of losing ourselves completely in existence, and flowing unhindered with the energies of life, is reflected in our fear-driven urges and instincts. They reflect beautifully, in duality, the oneness that they actually are.

In losing one's self, a symptom of less fear is more compassion. Compassion may seem to go against the grain of survival, as it shows mercy to those whose bodies and minds are not best suited for mere survival, and yet paradoxically strengthens our social bonds and thus further ensures that our species endures. On the coat-tails of compassion comes great humility and possibly the clear perception of the size of all things. Then we know the survival of the species is not necessarily important. However consciousness (or awareness, or God, or Brahman, or whatever label we put on totality) manifests is perfection. It manifests joyfully, whatever the face of it; the jumble of horror and bliss that makes the whole cannot be molded into some logical package. We question, and the question is its own answer. We struggle, and the struggle is its own resolution. We falter, and that error is Being's exquisite statement of the faultless imperfection of humanity. And we land where we began, with everything everywhere, here and now, fought with or accepted, or perhaps both at once. The search is the destination. Here is the answer; there is no other.

The Addams Family films are right up my street, or rather down my poorly-lit alley. Interestingly, the original television series starred the great John Astin as Gomez, who is the father of non-duality writer and singer/songwriter John Astin. This clip is for all my Native American friends, all my Swedish friends and all fans of justice. Happy Thanksgiving!

With Truth and Plainness I do Wear Mine Bare.

2011-11-06T17:43:00.000Z

Enlightenment is the realisation that there are no objects or subjects: all that seems to exist is One seamless whole. Or, it is the psychological process of stripping away the identity, achieved through diligent practice of meditation and self-enquiry, often aided by a teacher in such disciplines as Advaita Vedanta or traditional Zen Buddhism. Or, it is the epiphany that everything one has ever desired is always here, always now, because there is nothing but here and now. Or, it is not a state, not a thought, not a concept, not a description, not a word, but vibrant, present existence itself before that existence can be judged and measured by the mind. Or it is all of these things. Or it is none of these things. Or it is.

Enlightenment, some say, is only the beginning. How the comprehension and apprehension of the infinite affects the finite story that the point, if there is any point at all. The story does not exist in the infinite, therefore it is meaningless; but in the disregard for its meaning can lie the appreciation for its intrinsic value, of the story’s almost infinite designs and whimsies, tragedies and glories.

Mariana Caplan is a psychotherapist, yoga teacher and nonduality enthusiast, and a pragmatic and sensible teacher of spirituality. She has various degrees and generally strikes a nice balance between modern Western interpretation of ancient Eastern philosophy and scientific methodology, if one can call psychotherapy scientific. She recently gave an interview to Nonduality Magazine and a quote truly resonated with me:

"NDM: What about the "Stink of enlightenment?" What is this and how do you know is someone has this stink?

Mariana Caplan: I think the stink, as considered from a contemporary perspective, is that there are many sophisticated techniques for nondual insight readily available these days, and that people are continually mistaking a flash of insight, or even many flashes of such insight over a long period of time, for enlightenment. All of that is just the very beginning of the path, not the end. How do we know someone has it? That’s a delicate question. For myself, I know who I want to hang out with and when I smell the spiritual gobbly-gook that I have no interest in. I am much more interested in integration. Where the rubber meets the road, so to speak. How that moment of enlightenment was helpful in becoming more intimate with one’s partner, or child. That gets exciting."

How marvellous, this concept of integration, or “practising these principles in all our affairs” as the 12-step programmes of recovery put it. How differently it can seem to unfold: either effortlessly or with much diligent, labour-intensive conscious application. Perhaps all such concepts are roughly equal - equally misguided, or equally valid - since talking about it is not "it" except inasmuch as talking (thinking, writing, conversing) may be what is at this particular moment. Is the point of enlightenment to make the story of life “better” - how “better” is usually judged, dictated largely by biological survival - in terms of happiness, intimacy, mental stability, and the brotherhood of humanity finally getting over itself and getting its act together? Isn’t it counter-productive to have any goal or desire, even if the desire is of the highest, best kind? Isn’t it useful to “let go” of everything you have ever considered sacrosanct in order to be entirely free, and able to see things exactly for what they are? Or is it best to entirely relax all semblance of control, and let life live you? The ego, or identity, or personality, or mind, grapples with these questions and concepts, knowing it can’t figure it out, yet powerless to stop the quest for understanding. Strangely fitting, how the ego so very much wants the thing that may very well kill it.

Enjoyment can arise with all that fruitless fun. By all means, enjoy the unfolding, and let each glimpse and flash of the infinite inform the finite actions and energies of your small, meaningless yet intrinsically significant life. Why not?

Why?

Fast Times at Ridgemont High is one of those films that truly resonates on a cultural reference level, and thus reveals my apparent age. I like nearly every scene in the film but this one, near the end, where Spicoli delivers his best line and Sean Penn foreshadows his career as an actor who truly crawls into a character, is the one that evokes the most spontaneous pleasure. As far as I'm concerned, both characters display integrated enlightenment. Enjoy...

I Have Lived to Die When I Desire.

2011-09-08T09:53:00.001+01:00

The path to enlightenment - as one studies the literature and resources available, seeks out the working teachers, and explores the various traditions that exist - often requires the seeker to stop desiring...well, anything, really. When you cannot be hurt, the self is gone; when you desire nothing, everything is available; the absence of desire is the beginning of happiness; and on and on. This is another way to be. No desire is difficult since the ego is manipulating its desires, and in the end desires desirelessness. Well, expand beyond the ego, say the sages. In the state of grace, Nirvana, or whichever label we're attaching to the concept/state of perfect bliss - a very desirable state - all worldly concerns disappear, along with the body, if only for a brief time. Go beyond. Far beyond, way beyond...into nothingness.

In the meantime, our friends and loved ones probably are wondering why we're so detached and uncaring, and have stopped doing the laundry, or helping the children with their homework, or having difficult conversations about those things friends inevitably clash on when they have two differing sets of conditioning.

Oh no, say the sages, in the state of ego desirelessness, all beings are equally loved, in fact, they are recognised as being love itself. This is so. But perhaps not desiring fun, fulfillment or health for ourselves and others can be described as not using all the marvelous tools we apparently have: our emotions, our minds, our arms, our legs.

There is nothing wrong with following certain traditions that endorse desirelessness. If nothing else, it's a useful discipline. But wading into the whole ego/life setup, sleeves rolled up, full of humanity, can also give a great "result". It is, in fact, what you've been doing all along. Even if you've been meditating away your desires.

The following clip from The Remains of the Day is the best illustration I know of advocating a little unrequited longing. The tool of desire, unindulged, gives us - in the vast panoply of human emotion - something incredibly raw and rich, sharp yet soft. Anthony Hopkins acts his comfy cardy off. Those eyes!

A Fool That Seest a Game Play'd Home, the Rich Stake Drawn, And Takest it All for Jest.

2011-07-18T09:51:00.000+01:00

There is often a compelling urge to right perceived wrongs, find the correct path in life, or change what is and our reactions to it. Meaning, meaning, meaning: there is the endless search for it. The urge to do the right thing, find the right belief system, the right form of meditation, the correct way of being and doing and thinking and feeling...yet all of this is fraught with intrinsic meaning.

I cannot vouch for the absolute. I cannot describe what is before and beyond all description by definitive default. Nor can anyone; "pointers", we are told, are all that can be managed. It is perhaps a trick of the ego, to claim for itself everlasting eternal existence whilst denying its own reality. It is perhaps a quirk of the identity to endeavour, through years of diligent practice in a recognised form of Buddhism or Vedanta, to strip away the very thing that practices. I can only say that the practice is the goal; the journey is the destination; and the seeking is the realisation.

Try as we might to describe the quality of existence, the nameless being-ness, simple and unadorned, that is the underlying common denominator of all that is and seems to be, we stumble over the words that are never the thing itself. Yet those words and concepts are life too. Scholarly appreciation and tenacious study of the nature of consciousness are laudable; dedicated practice in the meditative states that clear away, if only for a short time, the running commentary on existence is to be admired. But life need not be, nor is it likely to be, understood to be lived. To be here, now is not an elusive state that the mind must be conditioned to. To be here, now is all there ever is. If meaning is taken from the turn of events or the events themselves, either possibility is exactly as is must be.

Several clips today, each of them a brief scene of fun or poignancy. Enjoy.

It Is Required You Do Awake Your Faith. Then All Stand Still.

2011-06-06T10:37:00.005+01:00

One way of describing reality is that everything is God; every feeling, happening, thought, object...everything. It is all love, it is all this, it is all itself. It can have any and every appearance and quality, including hating humanity or loathing the world or, indeed, loving humanity and accepting the world. Or something that seems in between.

There is no awakening moment, only perhaps a memory of such a labeled, interpreted experience: the memory, as everything, is happening now. There are also plenty of unfolding stories that are about a gentle awakening and seeing...or not seeing, or trying to see. It doesn't matter. "You" can't get it "wrong". Whatever seems to be happening is exactly what must happen, and what should happen. It can be suffering, but it doesn't have to be. It doesn't matter at all whether the story is one of suffering or not. There is no one way, or correct way, only every way, which is one way, since everything that seems to be is one seamless whole. If loving others arises, love them. If not, try to love them anyway, because love is probably akin to recognising that others are not other at all...we are all the same thing.

Being a single mom or dad or part of a family or a hermit in a self-sustainable mountain retreat is simply what seems to be. Whatever the story of life is, that is the best possible story. The identity that seems to be in some situation is truly not in it; what we are is what that identity arises in, and is free from it; the identity, environment and manifest reality is simply awareness expressed. The more it is relished, the less it is likely to be about suffering. The more it is accepted, the less likely it is to be uncomfortable. Bliss is more likely when the inherent miraculousness of reality itself is recognised. However, the outcome of the story doesn't matter because truly, there is no story; there is only this perfect, timeless, endless moment, consciousness, awareness, whatever you care to label it. It's all here now. The story of bliss and the story of suffering are equally valid, equally important, equally "right".

You ARE your true nature. This is your true nature. It's nothing different from this. The realisation that such is the case is the "ah ha" that people sometimes go on about. There may be disappointment that such a spontaneous realisation hasn't happened yet, or that buckling down and really getting serious and following the prescribed schedule of meditation and self-enquiry is the right thing to do...there's nothing wrong with feeling and thinking those things. The idea that nothing is as it seems, and the small shocks or big shocks around that...perfect. Wanting a romantic relationship...great. Wondering if a relationship would create more attachment...fantastic. Staying on your own, feeling noble...just fine. Trusting life, or doubting life, or focusing on thoughts, or believing that focusing on thoughts are creating certain realities...perfect. Achieving out-of-body awareness after much meditation and practice...wonderful. Questioning it all...fabulous. What you're looking for is what you are doing right now, whatever that is, even if it's a resistant thought.

YOU CAN'T GET IT WRONG. You're doing it. You've been doing it all along. You can't not do it. Your thoughts can't keep you from what you are. This is it, this is it, this is IT!

The beginning and the end of the story: in this case, the Woody Allen film Manhattan. Our family is going to New York for the summer and the film we thought the kids might like to see in preparation is Woody's cinematic love poem. The opening is clever, visually compelling and enticing; the end, a very sweet and deceptively simple exposé of both human vulnerability and the wisdom of unjaded youth. I'm really looking forward to seeing the whole film again with the kids! Enjoy.

I Drink, I Eat, Array Myself, and Live. Canst Thou Believe thy Living is a Life, so Stinkingly Depending?

2011-05-16T08:55:00.001+01:00

Sometimes the feeling arises that whatever is, is never enough. It must be better, or stronger, or wiser, or fuller, or simply different. We seem to take endless actions, caught up in being the change that will make what the current circumstance, thoughts and feelings perfect, or at least more amenable. These actions can arise even if there is no conscious effort. These actions can seem to take care of themselves. There is instinct, we opine, and there is control-freakishness. If only I can let go and let God (or Oneness, or whatever we are labelling the play of life today) I will at last be happy and content. I will be the person I was meant to be. I will be better, newer, wiser, more compassionate, less selfish, and released from the bondage of self. I will stop identifying with the packet of causes and conditions I'm calling the ego, and my ego will at last be content. Because whatever it is that these causes and conditions are right now is not enough; or it is wrong; or it is flawed; or it is not as it is meant to be.

It's amazing, how the very same set of conditions and feelings and perceptions can be both lacking and full. How wondrous that the very same existence can be seen as either missing something, or absolutely complete. What is looked for, what is sought, is what looks for it; it is life just exactly as it is this moment. You need not "wake up". The mind will say, well, there is some change of perception that's not here yet. But it is here, it is now, because there is nothing else.

A film can be made or ruined by the opening title sequence. In Dr. Strangelove, the slow, languid movement of one jet towing another to the paradoxical strains of "Try a Little Tenderness" as a backdrop for hand-lettered typography counters perfectly the chaos and futility of the film to come. Or, if you're on a shoestring, compose your own creepy, urgent electronic theme, carve a jack o'lantern, put the titles on the right in matching orange, and ever so slowly move in closer to the pumpkin's face and you have the brilliant opening for the classic horror Halloween. The following clips are two examples of very different moods. The first is Repo Man, a quickly edited green-on-black map of the areas in the western US pertinent to the film's action, driven by Iggy Pop's classic punk riffs with an American accent. The second is the masterpiece To Kill a Mockingbird, with the symbolic childhood treasures in Scout's cigar box lain out for us to see, introducing us fittingly to her story. Each is a prime example of hooking us in and setting the mood. Enjoy.

To kill a mockingbird Ouverture by jedall

This Bodiless Creation Ecstasy Is Very Cunning.

2011-04-21T11:08:00.000+01:00

There is no awakening. There is no enlightenment. There is what is. Labels of awakening and enlightenment are another playful game of life, looking wonderingly at itself in all that is. Whether one "awakens" before "physical death" is a concept that gives the apparently unfolding story and its outcomes deep meaning. Whatever it is that seems to happen, awakening or lila, samsara or enlightenment, bliss or sorrow, is just as it should be, and are all the mind's labels "after" the fact. A spiritual journey is fun, engaging, intense and interesting. Those stories of reincarnation and karma are particularly fascinating stories the ego tells itself to keep itself going. If reincarnation "is," who cares...the new personality doesn't remember the last one, past life regressions aside. The story can be as interesting, and as long - thousands of years - as you like; it can include such things as telepathy, remote viewing, alien control, chakra energy centres, transcendant bliss, and suicidal depression if ordinary day-to-day living just isn't doing it for you. The mind will do a lot to make sense of life, bring in the concept of karma, of heaven and hell, of the last second of life being a pinpoint of infinity, where the final decision is made...so many belief systems, so little "time".

All the answers to all the questions about life and death, birth and rebirth, samsara and awakening are "right", or "wrong". Conflicting answers can co-exist simultaneously, but the mind can't handle the co-existence of antithetical concepts, and so attempts to pigeonhole reality, to force it to make sense within narrow parameters. It is possible that the need for it to make sense can seemingly just fly away.

Some seekers have a very narrow definition of what "awakening" or "enlightenment" is. It is this. You are there. You are it already, your mind just can't believe it. It's not joy or bliss or tears or gratitude; it's this, whatever flavour and quality "this" seems to have. You deserve it, you are it, and in the unfolding story in relative reality, when the outcomes aren't the goal, it seems the goals become attainable. There is no goal. And in that concept, all goals become possible, because they are possible, especially in the absence of stultifying concepts.

If you seem to be going through a rough patch, and your mind is roving and spinning and trying to make sense of everything (a friend of mine calls it "washing machine mind"), don't worry. This isn't necessarily bad, although very uncomfortable. Perhaps it's an idea to relax, and hang in there - it's worth it. In the ever-changing, endless, timelees moment that is "this", all you have to do is nothing and everything changes anyway. It doesn't matter whether "you" "awaken" or not. The perfect expression is already you. If that expression is an ego that believes that it's separate from the rest of reality and is in pain because of this, that's a perfect expression as well. You are perfect. Whatever is happening is just as it must be. If you resist this, the resistance is perfect. Nothing is excluded. Here is the perfect playground for existence, right here, right now, always, even if it's negative, which balances out all that boring bliss stuff. If at all possible, try to enjoy it!

Bill Murray's character Phil asks a pertinent question at the beginning of this clip from Groundhog Day, one of the best films of all time and a fabulous analogy to seeking enlightenment. He is just beginning to sense what's important, at least to his character...after many failed attempts, he finally realises what his purpose is: live, and love, in a nutshell. Enjoy.

When I Waked, I Found this Label on my Bosom.

2011-03-30T17:47:00.002+01:00

There are so many assumptions, so many givens, so many "truths" we hold as absolute without being truly conscious of it. There are as well beliefs we consciously take on board so as to busy ourselves constructing the one true way to live, the correct prescription for life, the right things to do. There is the subtle interplay of conditioning and experience, fears and hopes, aspirations and defeats that come together in a beautiful, intricate culmination of a thousand causes and conditions that always are this one and endless moment. Some of us believe in reason and science, in observable reality, a reality that is reasonably objectively agreed upon; some of us see angels and feel energies and hear colours that are no less real, but perhaps not as objectively identifiable. These things all are, and are not; there is immediate presence before any analysis, or labelling, or judgement.

The words we use to label what we observe are often multifariously defined. The labels we hold sacred can fall apart somewhat; a quantum physicist struggling to pin down the movements of the ever tinier parts of an atom finds the labels "to observe" and "to effect" surprisingly interchangeable. We are boxed in by our beliefs, but also free within them, and helpless to choose anything but what is chosen, even when the choice is to discard our belief systems. There is freedom within the strict parameters of a sonnet, or a brief haiku. Beliefs don't necessarily limit us. We are limitless despite any beliefs.

I love Wayne's World so much I want to marry it. Being a complete sucker for cinematic in-jokes, I feel a beggar at a feast when watching this surprisingly intelligent film. Not only do we get subtitle gags, but rooftop philosophy..."when you label me, you negate me" is worthy of a long-winded essay. I think it was Dick Van Patten! Enjoy...a LOT. (Apologies for the ad up front...I couldn't find another version except in German.)

Wayne Speaks Cantonese
Wayne's World at MOVIECLIPS.com

How Often Dost Thou with thy Case, thy Habit, Wrench Awe from Fools?

2011-03-06T09:17:00.002Z

Sometimes, the expectations are met, and even then the ego feels a little cheated. The seeker will have a blinding flash of revelation and realise that this is it, that this reality lived is all the same thing, or that everything is one, or that there is actually nothingness, and what seems to be is illusion ("...albeit a persistent one" as Einstein observed). Whatever words or concepts attached to the revelation never capture it, or are a part of it, or are the current manifestation in this ever-changing endless moment. So, I was always here, this was always it, nothing has changed, notes the ego. Is this all there is then? Is this really all there is?

The ego may then be lived along the lines of row, row, row your boat. Life is but a dream, and the dreamer is no more; there is just the dream, manifesting. The story can then unfold in a stream of arisings, unlived by a dominant persona, unvalued by a needy identity. Life is everything, everything is life, there is no judgement, nothing truly matters, yet everything does by virtue of its apparent existence. But is that all there is? Is all there is, all there is? The ego will never be satisfied and that is its job. Questing, striving, improving, giving up, sinking, triumphing, seeking, finding; it will never be done, life will never be settled - but life not seeming settled is fulfillment disguised. If the illusion of reality is recognised, this striving, straining, project-building, happiness-confirming, comfort-saving unfolding of the human story can, at last, be fully stepped into and lived. The ego may arise, but its validation is no longer the tale being told. So roll up your sleeves and dig into it - with the ego, or egoless, whatever it seems like - even if it all seems black and full of despair, it's a miracle there is anything to do or feel or think or be at all.

I wasn't able to dig up the specific, small clip I wanted from The Return of the Jedi. In its favour, this longer clip takes place before the nauseatingly cute Ewoks show up. The bit I wanted was a brilliant exchange between Han and Luke, full of irony, and in a series lambasted for weak character development, illustrative of the timbre of their relationship in a 30-second snippet of dialogue. Also in its favour is the first glimpse of Princess Leia in her Jabba-slave getup, the launch of a million boys' fantasies...those that were teenagers in the mid-80's especially. I can imagine Carrie Fisher looks at this, notes her perfect stomach, and thinks, "I looked fabulous and it's recorded for all time in an iconic film." It's also fun to laugh at the state-of-the-art puppets, and stop-motion monster; kids today have little patience for these effects, built by the boys in the backroom with latex. In fact, my children are even discerning about the quality of CGI; if it's not top-notch, they're likely to inquire "CGI much?" of the screen. Touchingly, the monster's keeper puts in the best small role performance of the Star Wars hexad as the sole mourner of the beast's demise. I wanted the exchange between Luke and Han because it captures the attitude arising for me, the character Suzanne, or whatever it's OK to call the ol' identity today. Have fun watching.

But You, O You, so Perfect and so Peerless, Are Created of Every Creature's Best!

2011-02-28T19:17:00.001Z

Perhaps it is desirable to stop whatever quest or mission you are on and just enjoy the breath of life, the tingle of being. These complex tales of a life well lived or wasted are so compelling and ensnaring that the simple pleasure of consciousness is often overlooked. Whatever enticing form and quality, light and texture being seems to take, it is ever wondrous, ever fascinating, ever miraculous in its simple existence. Here you are; this is it; partake or deny, relish or resist it. This everlasting moment, always now, ever here, is its own sweet self before any thought judges it to be otherwise.

Always impossible to describe because it is simpler than description, usually elusive to the mind despite being all-pervasive; sometimes mistaken for a mirror of itself and often missed because its omnipresence defies observation, is simply what is. All the questing, longing, searching, missing, needing, emptiness, frustration, incompleteness and yearning for more are just crafty, mischievous stand-ins for This: the current guise, the fleeting quality. There is never ever anything that is not This.

Have fun trying to describe it; crawl into it, become it; you are it. What is aware of it, is it as well. Sink into despair and be it; rise into the helium of transformative joy. All is This; this is all. There is no need for anything to be other than it is, including the strong feeling that it should be otherwise.

This clip is the simply brilliant opening of the endlessly fun film, Pulp Fiction. Everything about it is fabulous; the casting of Amanda Plummer and Tim Roth; the dialogue, natural yet almost a parody of itself; the headlong progression from empirical discussion to sudden action; the juxtaposition of a sweet loving couple and a couple of ruthless bandits; Honey Bunny's vicious, unexpected transformation from timid and mousy to brutal and dangerous; and the technical brilliance of the segue from opening scene to titles, aided by the inspired choice of Misirlou, a Greek dance tune, by surf guitarist extraordinaire Dick Dale. Do more than enjoy it - be it!

As Ravenous Fishes, Do a Vessel Follow that Is New-trimm'd, but Benefit no Further than Vainly Longing.

2011-02-23T15:36:00.001Z

There is no more point to going to a meeting of friends together, a satsang, or whatever we're calling it today than there is of anything else. It is all sound and fury, it all signifies nothing. Sometimes it's silence and comfort but nothing it still signifies. Perhaps presence with others is desirable, perhaps some mind-quelling understanding or brain-stilling space can be more easily discerned, but that then is the story of desirability or easy discernment or the usefulness of a still, unthinking mind. Some seekers of truth come away from such meetings concluding that no matter what the speaker says or does, it is pleasant to pass some hours and converse with like-minded friends and acquaintances. The contentedness of the speaker is somehow catching; the fact that whatever is, here, now, this very moment, seems to be more than enough for the speaker rubs off a little, and the seeker feels a little more satisfied with life. Is being satified with life the goal? Is there a goal?

Maybe there is some spontaneous brain-bending change of perception. Even if there is, when it is no longer, it is only a spark of memory. Whatever form this takes, it is the same essence. Boredom, hatred, love, hope, creation, murder; these are all the faces of the same nothingness that seemingly takes form. Feeling that endless longing for more, going to a meeting with a teacher, writing, blogging, reading, talking, grasping for the ever-elusive understanding of This: it is all This. Whatever is, is just what it is. It is as it is; it is as it must be.

Rarely is contentedness with life more apparent than when watching the genius of Peter Sellars and Blake Edwards. Fond memories arise of watching Pink Panther films on TV as a child, usually Saturday afternoon with the family. This Clouseau vs. Cato vignette is my favourite, from The Pink Panther Strikes Again. The comic use of slo-mo vocals, combined with brilliant editing (thank you Alan Jones), and perfectly timed physical comedy make this battle stand out. Finally, a nod to Burt Kwouk, just made an OBE for Services to Drama and second banana extraordinaire. Enjoy.

La panthère rose : Clouseau vs Cato
Uploaded by david1705ts14. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

I Did Steer Toward This Remedy, Whereupon We Are Now Present Here Together.

2011-02-11T14:37:00.000Z

What is it that would make everything OK? What is it that is wrong? How can a change in the way things are become anything but - seemingly created over and over - the way things are? Consciousness detects reality, and reality can be interpreted infinitely. Conversely, consciousness is reality, and needs no interpretation...although there is no stopping the interpreting. Grief, discomfort, pain and fear, the feelings that are judged bad for the survival of the body and the continuation of the mind, need not be anything but what they are: twingling nerve endings that require no remedy. "What is" may seem to suck, but suckiness isn't necessarily to be avoided.

All these currents and eddies in the dreams and stories of unfolding life are as of nothing at all. Each revelatory solution to the problem of existence begets another quandary...yet the problems needing solved are also what is; there is nothing wrong with what is. However important or urgent the circumstances of life are, these circumstances are as of nothing at all. There truly is no one that needs things to be anything other than what they are . Those thoughts and feelings of emptiness and unfulfillment just the noise and flurry of the moment. Creation manifests nearly infinitely, and infinity needs each and every perfect existent manifestation to be its perfect self.

The clip today is a tender scene from The Birdcage, which has so many genius moments it warrants watching over and over. I would have loved to post the sequence where Armand (Robin Williams) desperately tries to detain Albert (Nathan Lane) from going back to their apartment, which is having a "straight" makeover to please the conservative parents of Armand's son Val's fiance (Calista Flockhart in a pre-Ally McBeal role). However, this scene, where Armand finally reveals the depth of his feelings for Albert, is remarkable for both its intensity and restraint. The unfolding story can be really, really lovely.

He Shall Spurn Fate, Scorn Death, and Bear His Hopes 'bove Wisdom, Grace and Fear.

2011-01-18T06:21:00.002Z

There is often a human longing for immortality. Such longing largely explains the cult of celebrity personality we endure: these people are guaranteed a little more of a legacy than most, the extension of the power of the personality over a bit more time, even after death. Our self-awareness married with the instinct to survive concocts a brew of grand imagination: reincarnation, heaven and hell and purgatory, all potential ways for the personality to survive forever. We attend a funeral and lament our own demise, as the story of our lives will inevitably end with death. At the funeral, we think: how much will this person be missed? Am I thinking of this person, or am I thinking of whether or not I will be remembered? How important is it that I am?

Non-duality books, blogs and speakers seem to promise, to the personality, identity, ego or however you care to label it, a guarantee of immortality. This is already eternity and infinity, they say. What you are, truly, is timeless. This is comforting. The ego laps it up eagerly. But the point of awareness that we are, in which all that seems to be appears to rise and fall in, is not a complex personality or a life story filled with highs and lows, joys and sorrows. What we are is simpler than that; but the story that seems to unfold is the great, uncelebrated gift. A gift from itself, to itself, full of sound and fury as the Bard says, and signifying nothing; yet signifying a great deal, by virtue of its mere existence. When it no longer matters whether the personality will continue to exist for a considerable amount of time, when time is only a handy reference, then the personality, perhaps, has the freedom to fully blossom in this illusory, wonderful play of life. Perhaps the point of it all has been just this. Perhaps no point is the biggest point of all.

Now, let's celebrate the enduring immortality of two 2010 celebrity deaths: Peter Graves and Leslie Nielsen. Both coincidentally prematurely white-haired, known for their early serious work, and came to comedy late in life. Below are examples of each actor's early work, and a scene from Airplane! where they exercise their comedy chops. May they both live forever.

Light Seeking Light doth Light of Light Beguile.

2010-12-22T09:23:00.001Z

Perhaps we'd like to call all of existence "absolute love" because that is a promise of comfort to the fragile, timorous ego. Yet what is, simply is, before we label it with any reassuring or despairing concept. Those thoughts, whatever they are, just come; and after, so it seems, we give them credence. We believe this or that about reality, and those belief systems are all the causes and conditions of a life, memory, upbringing and the Universe itself, coming together, seemingly over and over, in this ever-present endless moment. There is nothing wrong with belief. There is nothing wrong with "wrong" belief, or falsehood, or truth; these are arbitrary labels, subject to all the causes and conditions mentioned; reality will be interpreted as a matter of survival. There is no escaping the truth of mere existence. It is, whether it is obviously apprehended or not. It is, in everything, in every appearance, every act, each thought, all feelings; it is every frantic manifestation of reality, ever transforming, never changing. It is, whatever it is labeled, by billions of label-makers. Truth is here. Truth is this. Truth is existence.

Being is never lost, so can never be sought. Seeking is a bundle of thoughts, feelings and interpretations happening here and now. The feeling of emptiness can be the flavour of all, just now. It does not matter what the bundle seems to be. It does not matter what how the story of one life, all of humanity or the Universe seems to be unfolding. These labels are fleeting, ambiguous, ever-changing and unimportant. What matters is existence itself, whatever its apparent form. And mere, absolute existence mattering or not is yet another arbitrary label, as are the words and concepts contained in this brief essay. Read, or do not. Interpret, or ignore. Take comfort, or tremble at the void; there is no choice about what happens or what is thought and felt; there never "was"; there never "will be". Even the most conscious, responsible choices are choiceless. All the Universe comes together for these apparently well-thought-out decisions. When the last sacred belief is no more, when the last unbreakable tenet is discarded, when everything is gone, then everything is possible, and everything can be reveled in, by the reveling itself. And whether this happens or not is also unimportant. It only matters to the nebulous, ghost-like identity.

If seeking enlightenment no longer holds persuasion, take it as a "good" sign.

Even the Grinch must exist, and a fine thing too, even if he didn't have his own spiritual awakening at the top of Mount Crumpet. The best part of our family Christmas celebrations involves watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas - the original Chuck Jones/Theodor Seuss Geisel collaboration, not Jim Carrey's somewhat overblown full-length cinema version - and waiting for the smile that accompanies his wonderful, awful idea. I remember reading an Atlantic article in the 70's calling Mr. Jones the great lost actor of his generation, as he drew his own emoting visage in the faces of characters from Sylvester the Cat to Jerry the cat to Bugs Bunny himself. And, of course, the Grinch. I can't find that article online but here's a fine article on Charles M. Jones' life and work. Merry Christmas.

Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas. A Wonderful, Awful Idea. @ Yahoo! Video

Since I Could Distinguish Betwixt a Benefit and an Injury, I Never Found Man that Knew How to Love Himself.

2010-12-17T07:58:00.002Z

It seems a lot of people are very fond of the ego, identity, or whatever we want to call it today. They like the limitation. They are fond of the story of their life, their loved ones, their trials and tribulations and challenges. The struggle is appealing. The sense of "something is missing" lends an apparently meaningful search to their existence. They grieve when loved ones die, and wonder at how this body before them could at one moment be alive and animated, and in the next moment that same lump of flesh could be as lifeless as a stone. They savour the mystery. They despair of the point of it all. They are mesmerised by the story in time. They take comfort in such words as these, picking and choosing, taking from the message that our true nature is immortal that "our true nature" means the bundle of causes and conditions that make up the identity. The identity dies. It can die apparently "before" the body does. All those things that seem so important in the story can at once become meaningless, and this fills the identity with despair. Pointlessness is seen, and despised.

But what is often missed is that all those causes and conditions, whatever they are, however the mind interprets them, whatever the heart feels about them, that make up this moment, whatever its quality and flavour, is the face of immortality. Immortality is now, and life and its apparent accompanying story is not reliant on any particular outcomes. Whatever seems to be, is. Whatever seems to be, can be relished. The loved ones and the valued projects are not abandoned, or perhaps they are. The seeming unfolding and the form it takes is not what is important; simply that it is, is what matters. Every bit of the mirror is a miracle. Grief is a gift, from existence to existence. Duality is a gift, the illusion of reality is to be enjoyed. And if it is not, that is a gift too. None of it need be understood.

When ideologies and personal comfort do not matter, the story of war is most unlikely. If ambition and power do not matter, the tale of greed ceases. When the welfare of yourself and your family doesn't matter, the story of enslavement and jealousy and envy is at an end. If your identity doesn't matter, the end of the story can be anything. When nothing matters, everything is possible. Yet none of this is guaranteed. Whatever unfolds, unfolds, including the story of living too much in thought, resistant of pain, afraid of privation, and needing the phantom self to be validated. There is nothing wrong with anything that is. The ego can take comfort in this, or despair; it matters not; both are the face of limitlessness. And who knows, the story might actually seem to go a lot "better".

Two clips today. The first is from the superb Hotel Rwanda, the scene where Joaquin Phoenix, playing a photographer, tells the owner of the hotel just what happens when the west is confronted with news of tragedy in the safety of their living rooms. The second is from Beyond Rangoon, set in Burma shortly after the military refused to honour Aung San Suu Kyi's election as leader. The actress playing Aung San Suu Kyi (a New Yorker named Adelle Lutz, and David Byrne's wife) shows that man's inhumanity to man is not necessarily the norm. The heroes are the soldiers. We need both humanity and inhumanity each for the other to exist, however unpalatable that may seem. Sit back and let it all unfold.

Then Was I as a Tree, Whose Boughs Did Bend with Fruit.

2010-12-03T12:14:00.004Z

The Mastery of the Fruit

The bright green dimpled limes oft dream
of mustard yellow smooth unpitted peel,
a guileless sharp ordeal, suspecting not
the unheralded drop
from the tree plop
as life drains away.

Outrageous, if it's judged by immortality;
unfair if it is measured for survival.
The mastery of the fruit
at being fruitful, fruitless,
fruity sweet tingly tart
and simply its gaudy self -
green genius.

Is it sad to dream awhile ill-placed
to bring those zesty dreams to their fruition?
Dimpled rot, fruit flies clot,
mold takes lime and wishes fuzzy
verdant cloak a spiky red.
Her spore-child clings to the eldest
oak in a distant place:

Cyclic grace.

-Suzanne Foxton 2010

This clip seems to have nothing to do with fruit being itself, but so what? It was a pleasure to recently sit down with the kids and watch Singing in the Rain in installments. The scene usually extracted is Gene Kelly in the title song, being pummelled by a rain machine filled with a stinking mixture of milk and water while having a temperature of 103 degrees Fahrenheit (Gene, not the rain). However, the children and I were most impressed with Donald O'Connor's show stopping performance of Make 'Em Laugh. Even nearly 60 years after it was filmed, and in an age of wondrous CGI and intricately produced song-and-dance numbers, this number still has the power to WOW us. This was the only decent quality version I could find that could be embedded, so please forgive glitchiness; it's a big file. Prepare to be awed!

When You Do Dance, I Wish You a Wave o' the Sea, That You Might Ever Do Nothing but That.

2010-11-20T07:47:00.001Z

There is a lot of thought put into the quality of life, the actions, the motives, the intentions; there is profound judgment put upon those actions, and many hierarchies spring into existence; lists and names, desirable traits and defects of character, formulas for living and commandments for behaviour. It is all understandable. Perhaps it stems from the story of survival, and useful fear, and the need for protection. Maybe this fear of death so many of us desire to conquer is a necessary tool for survival. These stories of heaven and hell, afterlife, rebirth, karma and purdah are simply the mind's natural response to the need to survive.

Existence itself just exists, and does not judge. All states are equal, all objects equivalent. All motives are accepted, all actions simply are. Good and bad may be, light and dark, object and subject, killer and victim; but for there to be appearance, there must always be opposing forces, and they are what they are, as we have all noted, over many apparent ages; the manifestation changes constantly, but the pattern changes little. Existence cares not for the outcome of the story; all outcomes are identical. We have become caught up in the story and its outcome. Existence is here and now. The story, and this identity we protect and need to survive, is icing on the cake, fun and painful, satisfying and distressing, but entirely unimportant.

It doesn't matter which dance is performed. All the dances that exist, exist, and they all must be. There is simply dancing. All types are necessary. It is all dancing, this life, and some dancers appear to be more proficient than others. Some dancers are highly skilled, and some seem to have a natural rhythm. Some dances are ugly and warlike, others beautiful and airy. The dance happens now, and it is always now, and we are always dancing.

Maybe you've caught the dance theme of this blog entry....in keeping with that, and entirely opposing (it's necessary after all) the themes of oneness, witness Fred and Ginger in the pinnacle of this particular, innocuous human achievement: the pas de deux. And remember - whatever Fred had to do, Ginger had to do backwards, wearing heels!
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Well, Jove, Not I, Is the Doer of This, and He Is to Be Thanked.

2010-11-14T07:05:00.000Z

It is not necessary for life to be anything other than what it is. There is no need to feel a different way, to act a different way, or to think a different way...including thinking that you need to act, feel and think a different way. There is no way that what is happening, or seems to be happening, could be anything other than what it is. The identity, so apparently entrenched and subtle in its persistence, is a phantom...albeit a tenacious one. This phantom is useful for survival, and all the actions and feelings and thoughts that appear are some spin on the need to survive. They are all understandable, and inevitably some will be judged to be misguided. But before the mind, operator of time, latches on what is and judges it, it simply is.

What is accepts all; it is all. It accepts outrage at what is; that, too, is what is. Life is life. There is no other. The fact that anything exists at all is the miracle. However the story plays out, that is the story; and the story, although there seems to be objective truth, and actions and feelings and thoughts and interpretations can be compared to some objective standard, there is very little absolute truth in this vast and fascinating appearance. There is the truth of its existence; this is the simplest truth, and the only one. Enlightenment is this. It is what is. There is no way to get to what is except here, and now.

I recently watched To Kill a Mockingbird with my family, and despite the judgmental protests from the children ("It's not in black and white, is it?"), we were all soon captivated. Atticus Finch is perhaps the most appealing hero in modern literature. His integrity is something that seems to beckon to us all. However, in this clip the star is Sheriff Heck Tate. Boo Radley, town recluse, has just rescued Atticus' children from attack; in the struggle, Boo kills the attacker. Atticus tries to rescue the situation by suggesting that his son, Jem, be blamed for the stabbing, which would obviously be self-defense, committed by a child, and not liable to result in any punishment. Sherriff Tate has a better idea. The clip is worth watching just for the way actor Frank Overton, as the Sheriff, says "it's a sin". See the film, but beforehand, read the book. As stories go, there are few better.

That Life is Better Life, Past Fearing Death, Than That Which Lives to Fear.

2010-10-22T09:52:00.001+01:00

Every single thing that seems to happen is the product of everything, and is everything. It could not be different, or better. There is a beautiful all-encompassing neutrality and acceptance that is the nature and the quality of all, that allows all, that beholds all, and that is all. There is great distraction with labeling and judging; so many believe that the world is going to hell; that our apparent separation from each other and our fearful tactics borne of the need to survive will kill us. But take a step back from your assumptions. What if this tiny species on this little planet did not exist? Would the Universe take note? It is only in the throes of very understandable survival needs that we fear and panic at our demise. Yet there is nothing that can die, as there is nothing that is born. It is everything, and nothing, gazing at itself because it can; nothingness whipped up into an energetic swirl of somethingness, that energy seeming to be mass, and all of it composed of nothing at all.

There is nothing wrong with fear and panic, or dedication to tweaking the Story of Mankind into a more benign plot line. To those that despair of the story, who dwell upon war and abuse, who wish that things were other than they are - they simply are, and could be no other. Oneness cares not what is the relative nature of its apparent manifestation; the mere fact of seeming existence is miracle enough. And there must be dark for there to be light.

I confess that I am a big Trekkie (I far prefer this to "Trekker", which sounds vaguely like an abdominal disease). It's difficult to find any clips that distill the Star Trek philosophy, although I remember a scene in First Contact shortly after Lily comes on board the Enterprise, and Jean-Luc tells her about the 23rd century: how there's no money, no nationalistic wars, people work to improve themselves etc. I suppose it's clear that the philosophy is what attracted me to Star Trek (it sure wasn't the sets or effects or acting). Amongst a thousand bleak post-apocalyptic plots, Star Trek shines as a positive (but still challenging) possibility for mankind. We need more of this, I think; more energy devoted to "we're gonna be just fine". The more we relax, and accept, the better the story seems to go. Or so the plot can be interpreted! Failing a Star Trek clip, here's one from American Beauty. It's not all wars and narrow belief systems and fearful contraction, ya know!

Reason Thus With Life: If I Do Lose Thee, I Do Lose a Thing That None But Fools Would Keep.

2010-10-07T09:06:00.001+01:00

Before it is analysed, it is. Before it is labeled and categorised and put into the stream of a story, it is. Before thinking, before feeling, before perception - it is. Undeniably, thoughts weave what is into time, and a story; there is judgment, and the assignment of relative merit: health is more desirable than disease; help is more natural than indifference; and love is the underlying quality of it all - for instance. Yet it is unnecessary to map a course of action. That is done, whether consciously or not. Paradoxically, if the outcome is unimportant, the outcome can often seem to be healthier, more natural, and more loving.

If effort seems urgent, make it. If confusion is the case, be confused. If despair takes hold, or seems to, simply wait - in this endless moment, eternity, what seems to be is in constant flux. If an urge to enquire into who or what is feeling and thinking and perceiving all of this comes up, explore it. If anger causes destruction, know that it could not have unfolded in any other way. What is, is what is; whatever it is, whatever judgment thought puts on it, is unimportant. Peel back every layer; take another, and another step back; question each and every belief, each and every revelation, each and every conclusion; there is no solid truth. There is simply what is. The story that seems to unfold may be anything, absolutely anything at all. Whatever it is that values one outcome or another is an interesting phenomenon - it is not what you are.

This clip is from one of my favourites - Kramer Vs. Kramer. I could wax lyrical about the merits of Meryl Streep, but she knows how good she is and keeps it in perspective. The scene is useful for revealing what we feel when the best possible outcome is achieved; it's no wonder that so many stories are about the pursuit of positive outcomes! The look Joanna gives Ted in the lift after he tells her she looks terrific is an acting masterclass in subtlety: it promises so much, Kramer vs. Kramer II could have been made on the back of it. This is also a shamelessly self-indulgent clip I'm sharing today, on my 46th birthday (or so it seems)...enjoy!

I'll Show You Those in Troubles Reign, Losing a Mite, a Mountain Gain.

2010-09-24T21:04:00.001+01:00

It's so easy to get caught up in the story, for outcomes to determine identity, and for causes and conditions to define the apparent substance of our persona. Consciousness likes this; consciousness delights in it. Remember that whatever conditioning seems to be present and whatever it is that is perceived, it is a phantom, just a thought, mere unreconstituted energy appearing as what is. Any conceptualising of it is simply the story of it. What is, is what is; this, just as it is, is what you've been looking for all your life. You never lost it; you never were what you thought you were; you are it.

The goals, the grief, the happiness, the bliss, the murderous intentions - they are not what you are. It may seem a wrench to contemplate the death of the persona as what you ultimately are, but persona still comes up. All the apparent causes and conditions still come up, or seem to. If the story of what you are and how that story turns out is not the thing that "what you are" depends upon, the story can, at last, just be enjoyed, relished, resisted, everything. You are not enjoying it, that personality you seem to think you are - the lattice of thought and the myriad feelings you think you are, even the thought that thinks it is what you are - is not enjoying it. It is enjoyed, by itself. Relishment relishes itself, and life simply lives.

There is a quality to being. It seems that quality of existence at its most essential is the specialness and singularity we associate with our selves. Our selves, our persona, our likes and dislikes, prejudices and inclinations, body shape and health, belief systems and emotional baggage are the ever-changing extras we take to be who we are. But that essential quality - that feeling of "I am me" that we have all the time, that we feel when we look into the mirror in the morning, that me-ness, that specialness, that abiding sense of being here now is what all sentient beings feel. We are one, we are united, we are the same thing. We are what life empties into. We are the unchanging what-it-is that sees itself, for the sake of seeing it. We are all there is. Even the discontent is what-it-is. Even the idea that this is not enough is it. It is undeniably always here, and always now.

This clip embodies the perfect illustration of how iffy perception of the "real world" is: the amazing, achingly funny Father Ted tries to explain perspective to Dougal.

In This Harsh World Draw Thy Breath in Pain, To Tell My Story.

2010-09-01T09:09:00.002+01:00

It doesn't matter what the story is, or seems to be. It doesn't matter how to-the-point it is. It doesn't matter if the story is about a long, well-disciplined and arduous journey, full of self-revelation, full of rising consciousness from one plane to the next highest, and higher still; for all states are one, all revelations just the energy of thought, emotion and body, and all disciplines equal, whether they seem available to the clever and energetic few or not. It doesn't matter if the story is one of a great seeing all at once, a spontaneous energetic shift of perception, the knife cutting all the fibers of the rope instantaneously rather than one hard-won fiber at a time.

Existence is existence, no matter what its face or quality. That which is, is, no matter what it seems to be. The story, whatever it is, however it is interpreted, is the same as every other story; all apparent beings are equal; and all space and the effluvia that populates it are a seamless whole. Beliefs, beauty, appearances, evil, the universe, and all infinite parallel universes are as nonexistent as a mathematical point, yet occupy all infinite imagined space; it is here, and not; it is now, and never. Identity and ego are endlessly diverting window dressings. Taking the story seriously is icing on the cake. The apparent universe and its inhabitants, the universe and its unlimited possibilities, and the mysteries of the composition of matter are simply not important, although miraculous and manifested for the mere hell and heaven of it all.

Perhaps it all seems very important. Perhaps the goals of life lived are the focus. Perhaps cultivating compassion and tolerance, or rooting out evil and suffering seems to be the most important thing. But no matter how truthful the latest truth seems to be, and no matter how clear the meaning of existence has become, it is and has become that way to something that judges these things. There is just truth, and existence, unjudged. It is that way whether you want it or not, and whether you have apprehended it or not. The wanting, the truth, the being and the comprehension are not what you seek. What you seek is much simpler and pared down than that. It is this, all around you, you, here, now, just as it is.

Brainstorm is perhaps my favourite movie - certainly my favourite for watching unbelievably late at night, in some very reduced state of mind. It has a fantastic premise - experiences are recorded direct from people's brains, and when played back, you can have the same experience that person recorded. It is terribly revealing of some of our assumptions about life and death, personal experience and perception. The leading researcher of this project (played with chain-smoking relish by Louise Fletcher) has a fatal heart attack near the recording device and has the presence of mind to stick the recorder on her head, managing to record her death experience. This clip is that tape - and the end is fascinating; is there really a heaven? Are those images just her dying brain's last electrical sputterings? The ego involved so heavily in the story, and so fearful of its own demise, needs a little hope now and then; here it is, provided by the imagination of Bruce Joel Rubin (who also gave us Ghost). It's freaky! Enjoy.

I Will Find Where Truth Is Hid, Though it Were Hid Indeed Within the Centre.

2010-08-14T09:09:00.000+01:00

Anger arises...or hatred...or loving feelings. These emotions may seem connected to a story, to owning the story...but it's possible to feel something and just not poke it with a "why" stick. No one feels it; it's not so far removed; the anger simply is. This goes for every apparent emotion, feeling, intuition, thought, sensation. There it is. It is.

Sometimes the story unfolds, and the identity seems the most important thing. Who we are, our point of view, our role, our very being and existence as manifested by a body and a mind and thoughts and feelings and actions, seems the most important thing - perhaps the only thing. It can seem important to get to know one's own persona, the truth of it, the bare essential bones of it, uninterfered with by the comforting stories we tell ourselves about ourselves. It gets confusing. Surely those stories we tell ourselves about ourselves are an important part of our conditioning, part of the self-hypnosis that effects our essential reality? Surely it's impossible to disentangle all the stories, impressions, transference and projecting? Know yourself, some preach. Your persona is not important, preach others. Disenchanted with this conflicting advice, we try to develop our intuition, so as to know the right action to take, the right thing to do, the right way to feel, the right things to think, the right way to perceive reality - the TRUTH. We seek the unadorned truth of existence. We seek to strip away all filters of perception. We seek the fundamental answer to the fundamental question. The question: Why? Why me, why this, why anything? The answer: because it is.

The mind is a tricky, wondrous thing; perhaps it isn't the only thing, perhaps it isn't the be-all and end-all. Perhaps figuring things out isn't possible; in duality, the essential quality of manifested reality, co-existing mutually exclusive concepts are the norm. The mind can't fathom such chaos. But perhaps, if we stop trying, the truth is revealed. Maybe the truth is simply that it all exists, in an apparent motley jumble, full of hope and tragedy, comedy and despair, having and wanting, just as it does, in exactly the way it must. This could be labeled acceptance; but there doesn't even need to be something so far removed. What if there is no one that needs to accept? What if the identity, with its judgments and labeling, is simply an illusory, albeit it interesting, extra added bonus? Here we are, struggling or not, living life, coping, dying, praying, succeeding, trying to ease the burden of others, or retracted into a temporary perceived enclave of relative safety. We have been doing it right all along.

This clip is one from Lumet's The Verdict, my favourite performance by Paul Newman. As I stated above, here we are, living life, coping, dying...yet I find it hard to believe that Mr. Newman has died. He is my absolute favourite - and here's the conditioning behind it: he reminds me of my grandpa, who is 90 and looks after himself, bowls, fishes, keeps house, has all his marbles...despite having already died, at least conceptually, I find the hope arising that I've inherited his genes! The scene is the character Frank Gavin's summation, after a sticky trial taking a hospital to task for covering up a bad anaesthesia decision. Gavin was a washed-up alcoholic ambulance chaser before this case, and finds himself reborn in fighting for the comatose patient's family. A tour-de-force, and it almost makes me want to have such a concrete philosophy of life. We all seek truth. Enjoy.

If All the Year Were Playing Holidays, to Sport Would Be as Tedious as to Work.

2010-08-04T10:56:00.000+01:00

There is nothing to take a holiday from, nowhere to go on vacation. There is nothing to run from, nowhere to hide, no one that needs to escape from anything. The fullness of now is always here; the wholeness of here is this endless moment, ever present. Whatever you're doing, that is what is meant to be done; the key is: you're not doing it.

If it seems that you need to disentangle your ego, strip back your conditioning, dismantle some of the more obvious lies that the ego tells itself about itself and everything it apprehends, well then, that is what it seems. By all means, pursue this. Why not? An urge is an urge, and it isn't your urge, however much it feels that it is.

If the lines of reality blur, and wakefulness seems dreamlike, and the illusory nature of what the senses deliver seems, at last, to be evident - question it. Question what it is you thought that this was supposed to be like. Ponder on expectations fulfilled. Whatever question is asked, whatever musings arise, isn't your question; they aren't your musings.

Decide what the parameters of Absolute Truth are, and be suspicious of them. Meditate in stillness, experience a "glimpse" of blissful nothingness, and suspect your definition of bliss. Whatever concepts are settled upon, whatever definitions resonate - they aren't your concepts; they do not resonate with you. The more solid, the more sure the reality, the more elusive it is. The fuller the revelation, the more cumbersome its demise.

So if the sureness of reality is strictly defined, be cautious of its promise. There is no promise, for promise entails time; and there is no time. This is all there is, all we have, and there is no we to have it. What is, is.

Recently I saw Toy Story 3D with my kids, and this is the last scene; it's quite powerful, especially if you've been with Woody and the gang from the beginning. There were several adults openly weeping in the small audience we were in, and I won't say the children and I were immune! What a treat, to have such a story, resonating with all our other stories of belonging and rejection, vigorous life and untimely death, the power of imagination, the quality of life itself and what comprises it. If you haven't seen it yet, I'd wait to view this clip. And grab a tissue.

But, For Mine Own Part, it Was Greek to Me.

2010-07-29T08:46:00.001+01:00

There is a lot of confusion around what is, despite its simplicity. The speculation about what may be, in time, and the memory of what has been, in time, coloured by the conditioning of the being that is speculating and remembering, seems to cause great consternation. Is there a story, or isn't there? And what is its importance? Are there great energies pulling all of mankind in the direction of evil or harmony? Is mankind (and all that is surveyed, and the awareness that this surveyance happens in) the energy itself? What is truth, and what is its relevance? Is clear seeing of what is, unfettered by conditioning, speculation, or memory, the awesome goal of all humanity? Or is this seeming unfolding just as it must be, with no changes needed, including the need to change the urge to change it? Is this play of life something to be embraced or detached from, and who is it that does the embracing and detaching? And are these concepts, in any form, useful in any way, to anyone - including the idea of usefulness?

There are billions - perhaps more - of stories apparently unfolding, both in imagination and in "real life", both symbolically and naturally. (A trillion here, a trillion there, and pretty soon you're talking about some real numbers.) You are all the stories, without having to know the details of the unfolding; they can be imagined. Upon the still crucible of you - of what is you, most you, fundamentally you, your existence - turns the whole universe, and everything that enquiry and imagination can fathom; all infinite parallel universes, all concepts of nothingness and bliss, all feelings of alienation and belonging, all answers and all questions; on that still point, your being, the Dreidel of existence, spins all creation and negation. It is all, contains all, and simply is. That is what you are. You are everything. Now.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe was a delightful surprise from Fanny Flagg, the writer, who seemed to be mainly a pone-talkin' panelist on MatchGame in the 70's and 80's. The family watched this together at the villa in Crete and, despite the warmth, beauty and calorific food all around, the film was one of the highlights of our holiday. Kathy Bates, again, takes what is given to her and does her absolute best; her performances are so assured that they seem to be equally parody and homage, whether it be in Misery or The Water Boy (she must have needed some money to take on the latter film!). Even the most "enlightened" amongst us can enjoy a bit of earthy retribution. Towanda!

We Dare Not Move the Question of Our Place, Or Know Not What We Are.

2010-07-21T09:22:00.000+01:00

This is what you've been looking for, but you don't believe it. Just life, as it is, whether it is judged or not. However, judgment may appear to disperse if seeking appears to drop away. This life, this being, just now, is what is sought, for it is always now; whether focused on internal matters (or appearing to do so) or immediately aware of what the senses seem to display. Lost in thought, trapped in projection, subject to a miasma of a thousand conditioned responses is what is, or what seems to be, "sometimes". This, as well, can be unjudged, by no one, by what it is - itself. Great effort may be expended to strip away the conditioning. This, too, is what is. Help may be sought from many sources; wisdom (a judgment) learned, great and worthy (more judgment) disciplines perfected; this, too, is what is. Overwhelming disaffection may arise; violent responses may appear to be what happens; dismay, discomfort, disease; fear. This is what is, no matter how anathema to sweet (another judgment) and all-embracing love; for sweet and all-embracing love embraces all. Great change may seem to ensue; this is what is. A stillness, a calmness, peace may be the goal, or the destination reached; this is what is. All is what is, no matter its apparent form or quality. If it is, it is. And all that seems to be, to feel, to see, to hear, to think, to suffer, to love is what is: here, now, just as it is. It is that simple. It is simpler than that. There is nothing to be done except what is done, whatever that seems to be. It can be relished; although appreciation is yet another judgment, and by far the "easier" way.

This clip is self-indulgent (another mass of judgment in the term "self-indulgent"). I am a sucker for good steadicam work - and this is one of the best examples. Steadicam removes the last barrier between the viewer and the picture and seems to put you right there in the action - a good analogy for seeking vs. being. (And I love how James Cameron used steadicam harnesses and rigs for the big guns in Aliens that Vasquez and Drake carried, implying they were too heavy and unwieldy without such support - more movie magic.) There are fascinating production stories behind this scene along the lines of tight schedules and incredible organisational difficulties - and just think of the pressure on each and every major player and extra to be in exactly the right place at the right time! Kudos to the director, Joe Wright. The film is Atonement. The scene is the evacuation of Dunkirk in WWII. Please relish.

To Keep in Darkness What Occasion Now Reveals Before 'Tis Ripe, What Thou Dost Know.

2010-07-11T12:18:00.000+01:00

It is a hard road to convince any ego to embrace and love absolutely everything. Some believe that this is a step toward that elusive clear seeing, where each apparent thing is seen exactly as it is, without the projections and conclusions and judgments of the mind; ultimately, that those things are seen to not exist at all as anything separate, or objective. Those things that appall most egos, those things labelled "bad" or "evil" or "destructive" - the possibility of loving those things thought of (and felt of) as repellent and inharmonious seems impossible, for an ego needs a foil, a raison d'être, something to do, something to conquer, something to be opposed to: an object for the ego subject. Human beings, self-aware and conscious of their doings, usually believe those doings must be tightly controlled. The ego can go through a billion different conniptions, disciplines, and practices to submerge itself or negate itself, can feel the joy of everything-ness in utter harmony without the ego-veil and decide that this bliss is the ultimate quality of everything - benign, neutral; but generally expansive and life-embracing unconditional love. This is the final answer, to the ultimate question: we are love, we are the expression of love; we, and everything we see, is love, manifest. This, and only this. No subject and object: just love. Everything-ness, being-ness, aliveness, awareness, is love; and all the machinations of the mind and ego work against this omnipresent bliss and harmony. These machinations must be rooted out, stripped away, deconstructed, so that this reality - this absolute truth - can be clearly seen, and completely lived.

There are many stories of practice in the traditions of Advaita Vedanta or Zen Buddhism, or even occidental love-based therapy, and many others. Remarkable stories of thirty years of astute practice and asceticism; of extensive study and knowledge; of the peeling away of the layers of the ego, the deconstruction of all the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, the naked revelation of our personas as one defence after another is seen for what it is, and discarded. There is admonition to devote oneself to the conditioning that has formed our unique persona, and rip it away. This takes great dedication, or at least great courage. Know thyself, in order to negate thyself. Only this way is true seeing possible. Deconstruct the story of life in order to see that it never happened at all. Evaluate and see how your relationships with others are based on fear, and the otherness dissolves. Oneness at last becomes blindingly apparent.

Perhaps the story that can be deconstructed, in an instant, in less than that, in no-time, is the story of the ego's deconstruction. This is oneness, life, everything, for it is oneness, life, everything - now. However, in playing the game of a story unfolding, in time, in this illusory material world, perhaps the story of the ego's deconstruction is more to the point than most. There is no one right story. There is no proper way; all ways are proper, for each way does not really exist.

This clip is a little piece of a story...a little bit of that bliss. It's in honour of my family's trip to Greece for the next two weeks. This famous scene was filmed just north of where we're staying, on the island of Crete. Maya, in Hindu terms, is this illusory world we often take as ultimate reality. Maya is not only difficult and full of trouble; Maya is sweet, poignant, seductive, and absolutely beautiful. Humanity's joy in living is evident in this film. Enjoy.

'Tis Mad Idolatry To Make the Service Greater Than the God.

2010-07-04T07:11:00.001+01:00

What if there is, truly, no right or wrong? What does that mean in the unfolding story? "No right or wrong" infers the absence of judgment and labelling. It is, in fact, the tip of the Universe-sized iceberg called "what is is to live life unimpeded by the will and its notions of the 'right' thing to do". The persona balks at this. What would it be to live without these rules, without the struggle to get through life, without the fear of getting it all wrong, without the fear of making a great big mess of it all, of missing the point entirely? Without, in fact, the fear?

There are many, many words and concepts available to give the confused persona some idea of what to do next. Having stumbled upon this blog, it's possible you're looking for some clue of how to best live life. Participating in the drama of existence, identified with your persona, you long to feel complete, whole, and reassured that life is not meaningless or chaotic; that it is a grand dance, ordered and synchronistic, harmonious and beautiful...if only you and everyone else had the right formula for what to think, what to feel, and what to do.

Caught up in the drama, taking the drama to be everything and the persona to be what you are, you may put a great stake in a certain interpretation. There are millions of Christians who insist that they have the only right script, and that everyone who doesn't follow it is doomed to suffer. Each religion struggles for the absolute truth. Each belief system projects concrete explanations onto what is before us. Some systems hint at a deeper truth, an absolute truth, before judgment, before the mind is involved in any way other than to assimilate the light and sound waves that coalesce to give us manifest reality; before that, even. We long for truth, and are told that truth is what we see, what we most fundamentally are, unveiled by what we may project upon it.

There are appeals to "let go" completely, accept fully, love absolutely everything, and the truth will be revealed. The truth, perhaps, is that the struggle to find sense and meaning and come up with pretty much nothing is what "it's all about". The journey, not the destination, that kind of thing. Humanity and its foibles are perhaps not to be resisted, but embraced. Perhaps you've been doing it right all along.

I've resisted putting this clip up, as it's on so many lists of "best film moments". However, it's a lovely possible explanation of what it is to be human. It's reassuring when faced with the question of right and wrong: Roy, in his extremity, knowing death was around the corner, chose to preserve life instead of continuing his Mr. Scary Superhuman Evil Replicant act. He regales us with the mystery of his singular experiences, how precious they were to him, and how they are lost in his death - every human's burden. Plus, the cinematography of Bladerunner is second to none; is there a better looking film? Enjoy.

All Corners Else o' the Earth Let Liberty Make Use Of; Space Enough Have I in Such a Prison.

2010-06-24T07:48:00.001+01:00

Some say it's fear that keeps the ego from seeing its own illusory nature. So much effort expended; so much passion felt; so much suffering endured...could it be that the drama of life has been all for nothing, just a mistaken belief onto which profound meaning and absolute significance has been gambled? It's dismaying, at the least, to find that everything once held sacred and all the reasons and motivations for life have been based on an erroneous assumption. Could it be, after all, that this energy of life is simply existence unto itself, for itself and by itself, borne of nothingness, and our identities are no more real than the mirage in the desert...the mirage that beckons, the mirage that promises sustenance, the mirage that fades upon close examination?

It's possible that fear isn't the only spontaneous reaction to the revelation of the unsubstantiality of the ego. All things, all energies, all responses are possible. The ego, relieved of its burden of mistaken identity, might feel joy upon letting go of itself, if that is, indeed, the mechanism of awakening. Relief is possible. Complete surrender is possible. Expansion into All is possible, the movement from a small thing to an unlimited one.

But know, fully, that whatever stories the mind weaves to make sense of boundless existence are just that - stories, fascinating tales full of comfortable hooks for the ego. Stories of subtle levels of enlightenment: just a guru, or a full satguru; simply self-realised, or fully liberated; awakened, or integrated; look them up, and find that many hierarchies of enlightenment have been catalogued, sorted, prioritised and conveniently arranged in order, from "a small glimpse of eternity" to "full liberation, without desire". "What enlightenment is like" can be, it seems, succinctly described, and this is the ideal, more or less: a perfect state of pure existence; no ideas, no thoughts, no desires, no needs, no changes, no doubts, no imagination; just being. No humanity. No passion. No desire to participate in the drama, although the drama is participated in, by no one, not by an ego, not by a mind, not by a persona or identity. This is the top level. This is the ultimate. This is what the ego can aspire to, if it will only give itself up. It starts with a revelation and ends, through an apparent slow process in time, with the death of the ego, still in the body, a stateless state, reached on a pathless path, the best of the best.

Question it; question it all; if there be mind, this is what mind excels at. And live it; live it all; the doubts, the passions, the lack of desire, the intimate, all-consuming longing, the pain of suffering and resistance. This is what is happening already. This is what is, whether there is mind and thought and concept or not. Whatever conclusions are arrived at (or dismissed), it is a movable feast. What is certain is that whatever is experienced, it is experienced just as it must be, for it is.

This clip, from Bullets Over Broadway, is a masterclass of the pull of the drama (or melodrama!) of the ego and its interactions with the world. And what a fine study of an ego...Dianne Wiest won an Oscar (Best Supporting Actress) for her interpretation of an aging grand dame of the theatre. Note how her immovable stance on the role in question does an about-face, seamlessly, when confronted with a few lines of well-constructed flattery...and the sweetly vulnerable revelation, right at the end. Egos are a lot of fun.

Thou Art Not Thyself; For Thou Exist'st on Many a Thousand Grains That Issue Out of Dust.

2010-06-18T08:30:00.000+01:00

Sometimes what seems to happen in the course of a life and its story is a profound sense of emptiness. We are confronted with the proposition that our lives, our procreation, our work, and our beliefs are meaningless. Thus, our endeavours seem empty; our goals, superfluous. The mental anguish is intense. "An unexamined life is not worth living," said Socrates; so, afraid of the unconscious shuffle from task to task that can seem to dominate 21st century Western life, we examine our lives. It seems fruitful. False belief systems break down. We understand we have been telling ourselves fairy tales about our own character. Perhaps we are not the nice people we thought we were, or not nearly as bad as we thought. We question our judgement. We begin to see the conditioning that has seemingly influenced our choices, our avoidance, or our resistance. There may be devastating trauma to face, memories so vivid they come with sensory re-experiencing, or an unravelling of old assumptions...there may be a revelatory moment of comprehension, a veil lifting, revealing the untainted truth: time wasted may be seen to be time well spent; surface relationships revealed to be deeper than once believed; and a peeling back of the layers of defense against the world at large may be undertaken in earnest. Our egos are delighted to be engaged in such a worthy endeavour.

It is all happening now, however worthy and to the point it judged to be. Spare one of those heedless, unasked-for thoughts to the villains of the piece, just as indispensable as the heroes. Examined, unexamined, life is life. The mind's judgements about it all are neither worthy or unworthy, true or false; the energy of them is simply a miracle, and the ego that navigates it all is not "right" or "wrong". It is a gift, from the gift to the gift.

As this clip from I Heart Huckabees illustrates, there are a lot more fun ways to "still thought" than just sitting in a cramped lotus position for hours!

And Then, From Hour to Hour, We Rot and Rot; And Thereby Hangs a Tale.

2010-06-03T06:11:00.002+01:00

Precipice

Grasping fingers save a possible fall.
Grab the sharpish grass, those small cuts martyr
Hands that gripped the slightest horn of hold
Ascending time's sheer wall.

Rise and look, feel fully, hear it well,
This spectacle, and please do not want more.
Nature out and in, the river, thoughtstream,
Panoramic heaven, sweeping hell.

Ask the bird; it wings, that is its task.
Ask the tree: its answer is to grow.
Ask the bending meadow, ask the river,
Ask yourself; your answer is to ask.

So again that anguish rises strong
Again such toil for nothing, wasted fray,
When with ease and ringing fear a sidestep -
A dive to where you live, there all along.

And diving, dive into the frightening others.
And falling, fall into the fruitless battles;
So flying, to the base, and to the home,
Spinning all the tales of all our brothers.

Plummet through conclusions swift dismissed.
Rocket through assumptions banished fully.
Plunge amongst rejected, blessed comfort,
Not the goal, or needful to resist.

The grassy meadow bed will do on landing.
Along can come what may, a bear, a wren,
Forever in repose, forever standing,
No more "to be" and nevermore "again".

-Suzanne Foxton

The clip is from Little House on the Prairie, which doubtless had a strong influence on my persona's formation as I was nearly obsessed with it age 10-12 or so. Unfortunately I couldn't find a shorter clip, so for the purposes of comedy, stop watching after Mrs. Olsen says "It's a miracle!". Sometimes, the story unfolds in such a way that only a push will get us over the edge.

This Shall End Without the Perdition of Souls.

2010-05-24T11:48:00.001+01:00

The searching ends now. There is nothing to find but what is. There is nothing that needs to happen but what is happening. There is nothing new to know that will bring further revelation. There are so many fascinating, moving, absorbing stories which cannot yet be enjoyed, for they have too much of the burden of redemption upon them. Redemption is here, now, for there is only here and now, and infinite immediate possibility. You are not that small thing, the constructed identity named Felicity or Gerald, charged with the impossible tasks of perfect life or perfect love. You are what perfect life and perfect love emerges from; simple knowing, pure being, absolute awareness, bare sentience. That which looks, looks for itself, and it is everywhere; it is everything.

Perhaps you're caught up in a lot of analysis and value judgments; maybe there is nothing wrong with exactly what seems to be happening to you. It's fine to agonise, question, desire. It is what is. You can find some Zen or some other tradition to study if you'd really like to explore staying in a certain state of mind that resembles what imagination has deemed is true enlightenment; a state of peace and bliss, lightness, an unconcern with the state of life's story. But perhaps that's not necessary, or even, to a different perception, desirable. Even though life seems very painful,
uncomfortable and difficult, this turmoil is pretty natural and normal for a human being. It won't seem to last, no matter if you take conscious action or not. There is absolutely nothing wrong with how things are, how everything is, how you feel, what you feel, what you desire, and what you think, right here, right now. Relax. There's nothing wrong with you, just exactly as
you are.

All seekers pretty much either give up and live life, or end up finding that reality is exactly as it has always been; the obviousness of it is the punch of the "ah ha" thingy that some people seem to experience. Life as it arises, so rife with discontent, is exactly what was sought, and now seems full of contentment. We are in paradise. This is paradise. It always has been. Value judgments fall by the wayside.

The truth of reality is that nothing exists outside of awareness. Nothing actually exists without awareness' ability to apprehend itself. This void is the ultimate horror for the ego. A delicious, awesome, overwhelming horror that no ego can withstand.

You can't get it wrong. There are no mistakes. And everything, no matter how objectively different from another thing, is the same thing.

Paul Newman and Robert Redford, as Butch and Sundance, here give a good example of feeling the fear and doing it anyway...now off you go into the void!

It Hath Been Taught Us From The Primal State, That He Which Is Was Wish'd Until He Were.

2010-05-13T05:44:00.001+01:00

All that needs to be known is already known. There is nothing mysterious about not being able to unravel the mystery. All that can be here, is here; all that is, is; all that is sought is exactly what is, right now, right here. The form of "what is"often seems lingered upon, pondered, sifted for meaning, and turned inside-out for sense. The sense is not found in the form, although the beauty is. The sense is found in the most fundamental whisper of existence; that there is any form at all, that there is any thing at all, is significance that defies all the screaming sub-sets of life's story: the search for purpose, the pursuit of truth, and the quest for resolution. It is so easy to get caught up in these pursuits, for the mind roves and wanders, endlessly unsatisfied; to engage in action, convinced the outcome is the point; and to fret over outcomes outside of the small sphere of influence all egos attempt to maintain. None of the particulars matter, none of them. What they might be is always open to interpretation, repression, mental blinders, transference, and all the other veils the mind puts onto what is. And yet this mind that wants things tidy, that wants it all figured out, that wants to put eternity into a box and call it mine, this mind and ego is what is, as well.

There is nothing more that needs to be known than what is here, all of existence, and the small yet miraculous tools that apprehend it. What you are is not some limited goal or some fleeting life, drowned in the vastness of the universe. That small manoeuvring creature that sometimes wears the mantle of Everything and is named John or Pervez or Maria is not what you are; you are that vast everything, or silent, unquantifiable nothing, and John or Pervez or Mary is an astonishing and extraordinary convenience. The vast cosmos is nothing as well; all of it depends upon its apprehension, by each apparent small parcel of consciousness. Just that it is, is enough. Just that anything is - that is the secret and purpose and meaning that is searched for by each small and seemingly cordoned-off nugget of awareness, and it is a privilege - for no one - to even have the opportunity to search. Many minds have collaborated to envision an ideal of humility and absolute acceptance as the perfect parameters within which to live a life. Happiness through service is lauded as the best way to be. Yet all ways to be are, and all perceptions perceive as they do, and that is just as it must be. What the perception seems to be, whatever that is, is the icing.

The clip is from Antz, a kid's film for grown-ups. "Z" is the narrative character, voiced by Woody Allen. His summing up is a perfect example of the story the ego tells itself when life, just as it is, somehow becomes enough.

And Often Up And Down My Sons Were Toss'd, For Me To Joy and Weep Their Gain And Loss.

2010-05-03T08:08:00.000+01:00

Whatever it is that seems to be happening, it is not happening to you. What you are is simply what the happenings take form in. And it doesn't matter how "you" you seem, or how singular, or how special, or how committed, or how despairing, or how rich and full and whole - whatever the happening, the feeling, the thought, the action, even the world-rocking spiritual experience, it is simply an appearance, happening for no one, happening to no purpose other than to happen.

If this concept that the whole of life - all the convincing events, mindful conclusions, and deep feelings when confronted with tragedy or harmony - is just something that rises and falls in unending awareness seems unsatisfactory, then there's nothing wrong with observing, categorising and labeling what is, what seems to be, or what arises. It's fun, and interesting. It's what the (apparent) mind is set up to do, and can do terribly well. There certainly seems to be a phenomenon that Hinduism has described as atma (soul, ego, small self) and Pram-atma (God, awareness, ultimate reality). It may seem that what is being described is awareness (God) arising as individual awareness (ego). You could think of the "individual soul" as the arising story, and the "ultimate reality" as what the individual soul arises in. Perceptively, there is no absolute proof that there are any other individual souls. Absolutely everything, including this blog entry, is what is arising in awareness; all those clues that there are, indeed, other souls are just other bits and pieces arising in awareness. The awareness is total; you are, indeed, everything. The two are one, absolutely. No matter how many scientific tests we conduct, or how many questions you ask me about my human experience, and how carefully and honestly I answer, or how thoroughly we get together and compare our experiences, the tests, the conclusions, the answers, the comparisons, the concepts, are simply the milieu arising in awareness. The story that the mind strings along in time can be important for its conclusions, or important for its mere existence, whatever quality that existence seems to have.

To the ego that has taken on the mantle of all that exists, it is terrifying to simply let be whatever it is that seems to be happening. If it seems impossible to somehow detach, to simply be that awareness that the story comes up in, then perhaps it's possible for the ego to simply accept what is. Life is everything; even the most traumatic events have their place in everything; life is not full without them. This endless moment is what is, and if the mind leaves it alone, there is never anything "wrong". And if the mind doesn't leave it alone, we are back to the story, which seems to be here to stay, and which doesn't need to be changed or run away from. Perhaps all this objective reality, and the mind, and time, and the story, and the fear of death, and the need to make the story a good one, is a gift. Perhaps the story is the point. Maybe we come back, full circle, to the story, and can relish every bit of it: mortality, birth, destruction, creation, insanity, health, and humility in the face of a limitless cosmos.

As the clip from Parenthood illustrates, perhaps it's possible to relish all the ups and downs.

But Here Must End The Story Of My Life; And Happy Were I In My Timely Death.

2010-04-24T07:05:00.004+01:00

We would all like to see the unfolding story go better; even the most intractable sceptic or jaded cynic, given the power to feed the hungry or free the oppressed with a magical wave of the hand, would gladly take that opportunity. Maybe, they might say, people need their emotional pain and suffering; perhaps that is part of the necessary fullness of a life, and has its uses. But few see the merit of the mass suffering of people caught up in the story of others' greed and fear. If we are caught up in the story, the goals and the results become the only thing that matter, and we blunder on, using judgment best we can, to have the right goals, take the right actions, achieve the right results, and glean some kind of meaning from life.

Confined to the mind, the conclusions about what "the right thing" is can seem arbitrary. So some of us hone different skills, or invent them, or peel away this and that layer of personal fear to reveal these skills, that give the mean judgment of the mind some broader aid; these helpers are often called instincts, or energy, or flow, or God-consciousness. This frees the mind from the responsibility of figuring it all out, and the ego can then rely on forces deemed more universal to direct its actions. The energy of it all, say some, is love. Love is what we are, love guides us, love shows us the way. How does love act? Feel it, and do it; yet even in the cradle of this universal flow, individual's actions are wildly diverse and often at odds with each other. It can seem there is no way to direct the will in the best possible way, to the best possible actions, to reach the best possible solutions.

So, many individuals feel despair. Having done all they can do to identify suffering and relieve it, whether it be their own, or belonging to the people in their small circle, or to some beleaguered civilisation, they see their efforts as ineffectual. We want real solutions, tangible progress, perceptible unity, redemptive healing and measurable progress. Yet no matter what is attempted, it can often seem that perverse human nature intervenes, and the complexities of social interaction bog us down, and the attempt of the will to relieve suffering is scuppered by that underlying fear that motivates so many of our actions. Why, for instance, does Mugabe cling to power, promise the people of Zimbabwe the world, skim the best for himself and his cronies, and squander the resources of his country? Fear: fear of losing wealth and influence and power, which he has identified to be himself, which is all he has. Such a tidal wave of fear is not easily stopped. Such fear engenders all defenses, including murder, which people respond to with a mirror of fear. Such absolute corruption continues to be the bane of the world, if the usual judgments are applied.

All this process, as described, is a common story; the story of seeking meaning, of finding or deciding meaning to be the spreading of the doctrine and energy of love, of revealing what actions this entails, and attempting to apply these actions with mixed results. This, many believe, is the pinnacle of human experience. But what if this hodgepodge is already utopia? What if the goal isn't to fix it, but to participate in the fix, in whatever form that already takes? Maybe we are already doing exactly what we must, no matter what form that takes. Maybe it's OK for some of us humans to have blinders on, so some others can see what blinders are. Maybe it's unfolding exactly as it should, as it must, in the only way it can. There is no other way. An infinite number of possibilities exist in the imagination on an infinite number of time-lines. Any of them might be how the story unfolds. None of them are wrong.

The clip is shamelessly sentimental, and a triumph of tight, wordless storytelling. The people at Pixar aren't content to just produce fantastic images; they also give us poignancy and the portrayal of a mundane life that becomes a universal expression of love, joy, tenacity and regret. It's part of the montage depicting Carl and Ellie's life together in the film Up. Enjoy.

I Greet Thy Love, Not With Vain Thanks, But With Acceptance Bounteous.

2010-04-17T11:20:00.000+01:00

God is just a name, a label, an idea; unadorned existence given some clothes. It is interesting to see what onus of meaning is put upon this idea, the rituals attached, the civilisations created, the rules defined and followed and defended. We are so frightened of our own existence and boundlessness that we seem to need to capture it, define it, and give it comforting parameters. We take our pondering on existence and the feelings of fear and awe it engenders and take that to be the most important thing; our conclusions about life seem more important than life itself. In the global unfolding story, our fear has caused us to provide ourselves comfort at the expense of our environment and the needs of others; but this is not the only story. Greed and need are balanced by openness and acceptance. There cannot be one without the other.

But the stories don't have to be so important. No matter how heartfelt the duty or how strongly the details of the story are believed, there is, in fact, no story, not really. There is here and now, what is, the task at hand, the energy of the task, the presence of the moment. That's all there is, before we categorise, prioritise, stamp and label, quantify, postulate, agonise, or judge. Even the labeling and endless sorting out is the energy of the moment. There is no goal but this; and if goals come up, they can be a playful game, or a passionate endeavour, or a nonchalant happenstance. They need not be the validation of the story, of the ego, of the convenient persona that hops from chapter to chapter. When we sleep, we die, and there is no one that mourns our passing. When it seems we are here, what can be done within the story is nearly limitless; and, like a haiku or a sonnet, can still shine with freedom within what seems a prison or, when the glass is half-full, useful limitations.

Back to the analogy of non-duality, or enlightenment, as a film; the characters limited in their actions, unable to choose what they do even in the midst of apparent choices weighed and made. When films break the forth wall, as in the last clip from The Purple Rose of Cairo, it challenges our tidy notions and concepts about nonduality. Well, I include this clip from Ringu, a Japanese horror film, because I love horror movies and the menace and terror that ensues when known reality breaks down - always a possibility! The void of nothingness becomes more tangible when what we regard as unshakable is shaken. Sadako, the evil child in the well, has cursed a video; if you watch it, you'll die in seven days. The guy in this clip watched the video seven days ago - uh oh.

Folly In Fools Bears Not So Strong A Note As Foolery In The Wise, When Wit Doth Dote.

2010-04-08T07:16:00.002+01:00

The story of me in the kitchen with a knife is just that - a story, arising in wholeness. It was just what seemed to be happening. It really didn't have a lot to do with clear seeing, it was a story of clear seeing; and if there was some kind of recognition, or coming home, it had to do with understanding that what it is I had been looking for was just what is, just as it is. If, indeed, I had been looking. Comforting concepts can come up, like: there is nothing wrong with duality, there is nothing wrong with whatever the manifestation, or appearance, or whatever we're calling it today, seems to be doing, including doubt, questioning and the feeling that something will happen in the "future" that will bring about some kind of final revelation and bliss or whatever. However, those kind of thoughts don't seem to come up anymore. There really isn't a process, there is no time for a process to unfold; but it can seem that there is a process of deepening, that whatever exists is truly the only thing that is, and includes all the thoughts and feelings, which only ever are happening now. A deepening that seems to reveal "what is" as more and more beautiful, absolutely whole, completely what it is, and the only thing that is. What looks, is the only constant; the still point, consciousness, "I am", presence, whatever you care to label it. Nothing is a mistake, not even incongruous expectations. Such expectations arise and fall, or seem to, like everything else. There is nothing wrong with being disturbed. The "I" completely dissolving is just the story of the "I" completely dissolving, no matter how to the point that story seems to be. You are where you are, and that is perfect, no matter how it seems. "I" is oneness, "I-ing". Nothing wrong with it at all.

Maybe you have too many expectations about what "this" or "awakening" or "enlightenment" is. Your brain/mind can seem to "come back" and "claim" an experience; however you perceive
and label such an apparent happening is this too. There is nothing that is not this. That's what an "ah ha" moment means, and why it's so amusing. What you are looking for is everything, just the way it is. It is occluded by its omnipresence. It's so simple, your mind can't possibly believe it's so obvious.

Moments of peace are great, but they aren't especially "this". They are this in yet another guise. Doubt, resistance, fear - this in an egoic guise. However, when "this" is "realised", there seems to be less resistance, doubt and fear - but this isn't "let's make a deal". There are no guarantees about what the quality of life will be, in the story that seems to unfold, if wholeness is apprehended. The only guarantee is that whatever it is that seems to be happening, thought, or felt is this. EVERYTHING is what the seeker searches for. You can stop looking. THIS IS IT!

I've always liked the analogy of nonduality as a film; the characters have interesting lives, but cannot change what happens; and yet they are light itself; what we truly are is likened to the light that makes the projections possible. Well, let's play with that. What if the characters unravel reality and hop off the screen, no longer slave to the film and script? That's explored in Woody Allen's Purple Rose of Cairo. The characters that remain argue about who is the most important character. One bumbles on, and exits in a fluster; he's not due until the third reel. The ego and its imagination loves the idea that it has absolute freedom. Enjoy.

And Then This 'Should' Is Like A Spendthrift Sigh, That Hurts By Easing.

2010-04-03T08:08:00.000+01:00

It is freeing when the ins and outs of life don't seem quite so important. Oh, they're there all right, just as they are, just as they are perceived. The mind can play all it likes with making the situations of life big or small, distressing or not, uncontrollable or precisely managed, existent or nonexistent. There can be big, all-encompassing experiences that are labeled "truth" and objectivity can be applied to them - or not. Fear can seem to drive all action, or there can be little drive but sheer momentum. There are as many ways to live a life as there are lives, it seems. There can be a lot of questioning of it all, a huge longing to know the truth of life, the underlying, fundamental, absolute answer to the question of existence, or there can be one single, narrow problem that absorbs all of life's energies. The common conclusion, subjectively, often seems to be "it's all for nothing."

Well, maybe so. Perhaps the moving and shaking, cringing and hiding, boldness and timidity that are just some of the qualities of living all come to nothing, and have no import beyond their intrinsic value, by the virtue of their existence. Perhaps a solid, unshakable system of belief isn't strictly necessary to live, or whatever the belief system there is, it can unfold gently and naturally, with not too much importance placed on absolute adherence to a set of rules based on imagination. Perhaps the less the will interferes with life, the "better," more efficiently, and more smoothly it goes...or perhaps "better" doesn't matter quite so much, and all the facets of emotion and circumstance can be relished, it not outrightly enjoyed.

Everything life requires is always present. If nothingness manifest, the formless formed, awareness without duality is how the mind likes to conceptualise existence, there is nothing wrong with that; but it's useful to remember that no matter how fundamental the concept of existence is, it's still a concept. Any idea about reality is one step removed from reality. Everyone is reality itself, before the mind gets hold of it and has a lot of fancy ideas about it. Enlightenment defined as awareness looking at itself, before the mind gives it time and objectivity, is fine. Some experience of life without the analysis of mind being the most important thing is probably desirable. Yet it doesn't matter; everything is everything, nothing is nothing, right now, no matter how the mind and ego interprets it.

This clip illustrates the frustration that can ensue when the nanny state is busy over-dictating each and every interaction with society. A million Londoners will identify with Edina (Jennifer Saunders), ranting in court in a fantastic episode of Absolutely Fabulous. The fact that she was very deserving of being in court is beside the point. Sometimes it's fun to take the story seriously!

O, Our Lives' Sweetness! That We The Pain Of Death Would Hourly Die Rather Than Die At Once!

2010-03-27T07:26:00.001Z

The unfolding story of a life might be anything; the claiming of those incidents, feelings, thoughts, and attributes are what constitutes an ego. It is preached over and over again that the ego is undesirable. The ego is. The personality negotiates this bliss and sorrow and madness and sanity that is the world, the universe; or at least, it seems to. The mistake, we are told, is to take the mind's stringing together of what happens in time as the whole of our existence. The error, it is said by many, is to have the unfolding story informed and motivated by fear. No, no, say others, the problem is to pay any attention to the story at all. The story, after all, is comprised of a lot of past memories and future plans that have no more substance than a few electrical impulses in the brain. Live in the here and now, it is strongly suggested. No, no, that's wrong, say some, it isn't about living in the here and now; it's identifying with the here and now, it's the ego willing itself to be here, now that's the problem. The ego doesn't really exist. It is an airy-fairy construct. What you are is what comes before the ego claims and feels and interprets, before the ego decides it needs to be here and now. But what am I, say a chorus of people led by their ego, if not this thing that feels and decides and thinks and lives?

Well, say many, you are what the feeling and deciding and thinking and living arises in. All appearances of life are the same thing, but take many apparent forms. And the pensioner writing vehement letters about the local councillors neglecting to show up to council meetings, the soul very deeply enmeshed in the story, with no clue that the nature of existence is boundless and is comprised of limitless possibility itself, is just as infinite as the yogi abiding in I Am. The form is unimportant. The content is insignificant. The stories are as they must be, and that includes everything, including the impulse to action to change the story into something "better".

There is a huge desire, a massive (often implicit) aspiration of the egos that write about nonduality (or enlightenment or awakening) to show others their true nature, to help egos to stop identifying with the story the ego negotiates and the attributes the ego possesses. Just a few sessions will do it, some promise; others practice tough love and tell the egos to stop clinging to love and compassion, that it's just another trap for the ego to stick around, now considering itself to be pure unconditional love. Whatever is suggested, is suggested, and whatever is attempted is attempted. No matter how "to the point" the content of the story is, it is just another interesting manifestation of energy, which is, after all, what matter also is. No matter how deluded or how sensible the story is, it is all infinite and eternal, boundless and free, no matter how the mind interprets what is happening.

Enjoying it, even the "bad" bits, is always a possibility, for mere existence is wonder.

The clip is from Roberto Benigni's Life Is Beautiful. How he makes use of the worst possible situation to amuse his son is the imagination's proof that anything, any circumstance, can be tolerable.

For Truth Hath Better Deeds Than Words To Grace It.

2010-03-20T07:45:00.000Z

It doesn't matter what you do, and whatever you do, there is no one choosing to do it. All energies are equal, all insanities fitting, all deeds made moot by their fleeting non-existence; yet each form of the ever-changing, endless moment is rich in meaning and wonder. It doesn't matter how it is seen, this life, this existence; all perceptions are valid, all beliefs suitable, all thoughts appropriate, all action correct. Nothing delights in life; it is delight itself. The tug and pull of the quality of unconditional love as the pervasive and nascent quality of everything is compelling; we want it to be so; we need it to be so; it is so. Life makes no judgments on itself; it lives. The duality that exists so that life can take form necessitates good and bad, comfort and uneasiness, bliss and despair. What knows this, what sees this, and what notes this is what you are; you are not what is noted, although this case of mistaken identity is not wrong. Some scion of awareness crawls into the story and the story becomes all-important; and although a rising-above this is often encouraged, to be and feel and live the story is also a miracle, no matter what the story seems to be.

Without resistance, the unfolding story can flow into endless possibility, unhindered by the limited imagination. With resistance, the story can be intense in its emotions and rich in its synchronicity; remember no one chooses, all choices choose life, in yet another guise. To be free of the grasping ego is liberation, and to be caught up in the grasping ego is a privilege. Who judges that freedom is the ultimate goal? There are no true goals, only different energies, tasks appreciated or rejected, paths explored or uninvestigated. Life is life. There is no way to get it wrong; there is no way to get it right.

I love this clip from the ultimate pretentious, rule-breaking film of the eighties, My Dinner With Andre. The look on Wallace Shawn's face after Andre's interesting church story is priceless! Maybe imagination isn't so limited after all.

But The Wisest Beholder, That Knew No More But Seeing, Could Not Say If The Importance Were Joy or Sorrow.

2010-03-13T07:03:00.007Z

Such a deep, dark, depressing crevasse to look down upon, the notion that all is meaningless. Yet it is, after all, just a notion, and the thing that believes it a construct. Constructed by what? By learning through time, which is a concept in itself; by thoughts taken seriously by themselves; and by reinforcement from a collective of thought constructs. Reality is airy-fairy. The solidity of matter, the mystery of life, and the consciousness that registers it all is a bonus, and enigma, and a wonder, no matter what the interpretation or quality of reality seems to be.

Much is made of the concepts by which our inadequate-to-the-task minds explain the very thing the mind arises in. Concepts suggest that concepts are in the way. Planned thoughts and actions, only accomplished through the convenient tool of time and more concepts, infer that there is a method by which the mind can be occluded and the seamlessness of existence be apprehended directly; and it is implied that this direct experience is always the case, and the thoughts that are "in the way" are actually part of the seamlessness. And, in fact, that there are no object or subjects, not even the consciousness that separates and labels things; that actually, whether it is labelled "oneness" or "twoness", reality is what reality is, however it seems to be. Period. And it is this reality, no matter how inadequate or painful, that's what is sought by everyone; and it is the inability to realise this that causes (in nonexistent time) the pain and the feeling of inadequacy.

There is nothing wrong, not even (or possibly especially) the feeling that something is wrong. The journey home starts from home, roves around the intricacies of the home we call all creation, and ends, amusingly, at home.

Mimi wo Sumaseba (Whisper of the Heart) is a lovely, gentle amime film that meanders placidly through the life of a little girl, Shizuku. A plot device is several rewritten versions of Country Roads by John Denver. The road home is also home.

'Tis In The Malice of Mankind That He Thus Advises Us; Not To Have Us Thrive In Our Mystery.

2010-03-07T08:02:00.003Z

Discover your true nature...that is the promise, the future event, that brings seekers of the meaning of life to sites like this one. They come for meaning, and are either told there isn't any, or that their humdrum ordinary life is fraught with intrinsic meaning, if only they perceive it a bit differently. There are instructions (investigate the "I"), there are paradoxical teachings from people who insist they aren't teachers (no one can teach you to be what you already are), and there is the assurance that the comfy, cozy reality you've always known is, indeed, the very thing you seek; that it is the awareness that reality arises in that is truly reality; that, in fact, what you seek is what seeks; and that there is no change, not really, not even some perceptual shift. It is the realization of this, the fact that "you've" always already been "enlightened", and that enlightenment or awakening is simply (for the mind) at last being content with "what is" that constitutes awakening. In that acceptance of what is, the lack of resistance to what is, including the very resistance itself, lies the secret, the obvious conclusion; we are where we are, we are what we are, now. Whatever and wherever that is, is open to the mind's interpretation, and all interpretations are correct.

The mind will have lots of conditioned ideas about what all this means, and what actions are subsequently required. It will reject any apparent incongruities, i. e., teaching your children to share or engage in any behaviour that reflects a value system, because all value systems are a product of the ego taking itself and its role too seriously. However, it may become clear that you can't get it wrong. There are many words devoted to describing existence, and the concept of nothingness, and how everything that seems to be happening is not happening at all; if the mind ponders the possibility of nothingness, a sort of awe arises, and perhaps a thankfulness for mere existence, which comes to resemble a miracle in and of itself. It may become clear that the tools of duality that are so richly available (when nothing exists except perhaps a bit of cleverly arranged energy, devoid of judgment) are the very things we've been searching for. Maybe it becomes glaringly apparent that life, just as it is, is the very thing we've been traveling to Oz to find, when it has been living in our own back yard. Perhaps the ego and its baggage are something to relish. Perhaps the struggles of mankind, and his suffering, and his quest to relieve that suffering, are the priceless gifts of humanity. Maybe, just maybe, you've been doing it all along, even the doubting of it and the questioning and the restlessness, irritability and discontent.

Miller, the nutball from the entirely excellent film Repo Man, surely has this all figured out.

Thou Bear's Thy Heavy Riches But A Journey, And Death Unloads Thee.

2010-02-27T07:59:00.003Z

In the unfolding story, if apparent cause and effect are taken note of and the journeys and bridges and waylayings are apprehended, and if some judgement of their worth and aspect are divined, with amusement and perhaps with pathos, it could be said that letting go completely (although the method, if there is one, of this surrender is disputed) doesn't squelch ambition, but simply makes ambition a goal unto itself. Unbridled, the undemanding ego simply undertakes whatever form of action furnished by whatever apparent source, and every action, freed from the necessity of validating the persona that carries it out, is an action seemingly fraught with fundamental meaning. The outcomes are perhaps not so conjectured, so the outcomes, if, indeed, cause and effect are even noted, are free to be whatever they can be, and not confined to simply whatever can be imagined. In this phenomenon of "being lived" lies the comforting answer to the still grasping, overburdened ego. You cannot fulfil infinite potential whilst still confined by fear and defences, although fear and defenses can often seem to play an important role; conditioning is conditioning, it is there, and our personas were all shaped by the multiplicity of apparent experience. To quench our flaws by an act of conscious will perhaps denies their usefulness. If the goal is unknown and the method of obtaining it a mystery, any defenses can naturally be discarded, or used for their full benefit; stubbornness, for example, is not always an impediment, and conscious compassion sometimes blinds us to some more useful form of "tough love".

The less you absolutely know what to do, the more potential fills that vacuum. Perhaps "what to do next" can become less some vexing mystery, and more some awe-inspiring discovery; if, indeed, "what to do next" is even noted, or pondered upon. The ego relieved of the burden of its own apparent journey is an ego freed to take the best possible journey, and that journey is no longer judged by a set of narrow rules and beliefs. In fact, the journey in time seems less a story with a beginning, a middle and and end; the journey is, in fact, just a timeless constant rearrangement of reality, there for the amusement (or bemusement) and edification of the parcel of awareness that we seem to be. It is frightening to let go. It is fearful to die, as a small person named Jim or Angela or Hassim or Nanako, and become an apparent slice of everything. However, paradoxically, that is already the case, no matter how stifled the journey seems to be, or how limited the character that takes it. Your confining persona could "die" at any "time", and if it doesn't, that is what is meant to be, and the boxed-in journey is not wrong, but exactly what is needed. If the mind is open, and the road is wide, there is no need for despair, except where despair can play its own hard role.

The Straight Story is a classic journey, taken by a stubborn old man named Alvin, who knows he has to travel to his estranged and very ill brother entirely on his own steam for the journey to mean as much as it does to him to his brother. Limited by lameness and blindness and having no drivers license, he decides to travel 240 miles from Laurens, Iowa to Mount Zion, Wisconsin on a lawn mower. It really happened, and was made into a film by David Lynch. Alvin just wants to be with his brother and look up at the stars with him again, like they did when they were kids. This is the end of the film. Simply sitting on a porch is wholeness, completeness, and perfection.

The Wheel Is Come Full Circle: I Am Here.

2010-02-19T06:46:00.001Z

Words and concepts are all we have to play with in this forum. Yet words and concepts, tools of the dividing mind, will never bring anyone closer to what they already are. Even the clearest of ideas, related with succinctness of phrase and efficient eloquence, fail to describe fundamental awareness, the page on which all words rest, the plate all experience is supped from, the simple being that is before and after and during each thought, feeling, or happening. Words may nudge the mind into giving itself up as king, but whatever story of denial is indulged in, simple awareness is the book in which the story unfolds. You are: that is undeniable. And that beingness, the background for all things and thoughts and feelings that seem to exist, seems hidden; what looks for it is what looks.

In the book, on the page, any story may unfold. There may be a strong urge for the story to move from a destructive one to a creative one. There may be a story of less ego-fear, and more openness; less resistance because of less fear, and more creativity and compassion. Yet however painful the unfolding story may feel, and however strong the desire for less pain is, if there is no one that takes the story seriously, and no one claiming the pain, the pain ceases to be suffering. There is nothing wrong with pain; pain is yet another sensation that arises in awareness, as is confusion, and doubt, and struggle. In life, there is everything. A full life feels everything, and doesn't run away from what might be labeled "uncomfortable" or "difficult". There is nothing wrong, and more to the point, there is nothing wrong with you.

It might be possible to not put so much importance on words and ideas and concepts. It might be possible to just live, openly, honestly, and willingly, with not so much resistance; it might be possible to be alive to any and all possibilities that always exist, now. It might be that a better life is just around the corner, but that life won't involve anyone or anything that is more whole and complete and perfect than what is, right now, for everything is, right now. Anything might happen, and anything is possible, now. Words are the icing. They are not the answer; there is no answer but this, now.

Below is an example of just how useless words are; even the clearest and simplest of phrases may be misunderstood!

To Seek The Light Of Truth; While Truth The While Doth Falsely Blind The Eyesight Of His Look.

2010-02-13T07:44:00.005Z

Memory and speculation happen now. Pain and separation happen now. Bliss and the quiet mind is happening now. The paradox, hated by the mind, that we are both all one yet seemingly alone, happens now. You are what you are now. Not in some nonexistent future; the future never is; all is now. There is much habitual delving back into the story, taken seriously by the mind which only sees itself. There is much lauding of practice, of readiness, in the mind for "enlightenment" to happen. It can certainly seem to be a practice, a practice that can be realised in many ways. All practice has the goal of stripping the ego of its importance, allowing what is to be more readily apprehended. Yet no matter what the apparent state of mind now, no matter what is perceived and how that perception is interpreted, you are what you are now.

What is - the wall, the keyboard, the faint hum of traffic, the feeling of the body on the chair, the thoughts that note these things - is often dismissed. The story that the mind tells itself about what is happening is similarly discredited. The feelings that arise as a part of it all cry out to the mind to be explained; the"why" of it is craved, the sense of it all being purposeful and orderly is demanded by an ego frightened of its own demise. All these thoughts and judgements and feelings are said to be nothing, meaningless, unworthy. Yet the paradox that the mind dislikes perhaps most of all is that those thoughts, sensations, and feelings are boundless, timeless existence, despite their seeming solidity and logic and narrowly defined importance. You are what takes note.

The practice of peeling away at the ego is laudable. It unfolds choicelessly. Whether it be at the foot of a guru, with the nose buried in a book or two or twenty, face to face with a sympathetic therapist, or in self-help groups, empathy and tolerance can convince the mind of the possibility of oneness and the unimportance (and beauty) of the ego. However, it must be said (by who?) that whatever you are, you are now, "before" the ego is "ready". The message that there is no teacher and no one to teach may paradoxically be the teaching that forces the ego to realise that there is nowhere to go, no blissful state to seek, nothing other than what is, now, because now is all there is, and whatever it is that is noted, it is the noting that never changes.

And now, for all you frustrated seekers. From The Wizard of Oz, the clearest parable of seeking, its lesson being that we always have the power to go home, and, in fact, are always home since the journey is but a dream. Here is the best reaction when the guru says you were always home in the first place.

He Is Too Good And Fair For Death And Me: Whom I Myself Embrace, To Set Him Free.

2010-02-02T07:24:00.007Z

One of the hardest things for the ego to accept is that this, life, however it seems to manifest, just exactly as it is, is enough. It's depressing for the ego the accept that all the problems overcome in time, all the rigmarole, all the worthy concern, all the chaos perhaps finally ordered, is of nothing, to nothing, and for nothing. There is, however, an ambiance of the ego having its cake and eating it too. For an ego unbridled of itself, unmoved by itself, and revealed to be a mere construct is an ego freed to do its apparent job. When time is no longer the slave master, the story in time has cosmic perspective. The mind may not be able to figure it out, but the mind doesn't care so much; and in this apparent relaxation of the ego, it can be noticed that everything, just as it is, is enough. What has been called the "is-ness" of it seems enough. The manifest, all around, as it is, is noted; maybe thought about, maybe not, and is seen for what it is, without, perhaps, too many mind-filters to obscure it from itself. In the story in time, this is a possibility; but there is no time, so what is described here, with these concepts of "is-ness" and intrinsic worth is...just maybe...just perhaps...how reality is already perceived, by "you".

The quest for truth, the search for freedom, the seeking of enlightenment, and the thirst for meaning seem to happen. These journeys are imbued with importance and worth. The ego is consumed with itself, cannot see itself, cannot escape itself, until it sees there never was a prison. Yet the machinations of the ego are the spice of life; the ego's struggles and triumphs are poignant, genius, spectacular. They can still arise. Even if the illusion is seen through, it is only another story of seeing through an illusion; there is no end goal; there is only what is. And that is enough.

The Marx brothers, those great gurus of the twentieth century, once again encapsulate the Meaning of Life:

This Comes With Seeking You: But There's No Remedy; I Shall Answer it.

2010-01-29T08:01:00.000Z

That quote usually attributed to St. Francis, "What you are looking for is what is looking", really nails it. Nobody will believe how simple this is. Nobody will believe there's nothing different, nothing special, nothing changed about awakening or enlightenment or whatever we're calling it today. There are a lot of handy dandy pointers, along the lines of "what you are is awareness and everything arises in that", or "what you are is present awareness, nothing more," or "you are one without a second". They're all concepts. These words are concepts. The seeker's frustration obscures the utter simplicity of what is. And even the obscuring is what is happening, now, in present awareness.

There can be looking for what is, or there can be what is. There can be a lot of tweaking of the story of life; there can be therapy, meditation, recovery, healing, looking at one's life story nakedly and accepting it all; these things may provide an open mind, ready for the message that what is sought is exactly what is right now. Yet there need be no readiness. You are what you are, timelessly, right now. There's nothing wrong with the tweaking, the healing, the changing of a life story from a "destructive" one to a "creative" one. But awareness is immortal, unchanging, not bound by time, not confined by space, taking up no space in fact, for space is just a convenience, as is time. As are thoughts. It doesn’t matter, therefore, what arises, as it’s all just a play for its own sake. So no matter what thoughts are doing, or whether you’re “getting it” or not, it’s all happening just as it must, for no particular reason. When the big “letting go” or “ah ha” thing seems to happen, all that is really plain; and the St. Francis quote makes perfect sense, both to the mind, which is finally in its somewhat more auxiliary role, and to awareness itself, which was always looking anyway. It all loops back around to the simplest of simple things: instead of looking for looking, there is just looking. And life is just as it ever was. Oneness is known to be awareness, the only thing; the content, just energy, and feel free to rename and hone those particular concepts.

You are this. You are this now. Whatever thoughts are flying, whatever feelings are strumming, whatever sensations are pulsing, whatever actions are unfolding - this is it. "You" are "there". We "all" are.

I'll bet Jackie Chan is too busy for an existential crisis. He CRAZY!

Simply The Thing I Am Shall Make Me Live.

2010-01-23T09:06:00.001Z

I was listening to a friend describe his life; it was unbelievably profound, and went roughly like this: "...My work is patchy, and it's a pretend job anyway, the kind of thing your dad always told you to be ready to ditch at any moment because you'd never make a living at it - I don't really pay enough attention to my kids, which are the main thing and I know it - and I really think I'm messing up my marriage in a big way - I'm too lazy, I don't do even half of what I could in a day - and I'm not nice enough to people..." And here he paused, with commendable comic timing, and continued:

"...But so what?"

Oh, how we laughed!

That black hole, that void, that cause of all existential crises, the sure knowledge that life is meaningless inasmuch as the story of it is concerned, that nothingness that is reality – it’s a big bummer for the persona. The mysterious life force, the awareness that everything arises in, that which seems to animate reality, and the dead body at a funeral that is the proof of manifestation’s transience, will never be understood fully by the mind; although in the story of humanity, there are plenty of scientists and philosophers that give it a good go. That animating force that a corpse lacks - despite having the same mass as when it was Auntie Jane - is simply what you are, what is expressed by everything, and the mind can’t really grasp it because it’s what the mind arises in. But what consciousness can do, in witnessing the mind’s take on it – the take on it can be:

“Well, so what?”

And there, in that sort of complete letting go, absolute acceptance, cosmic f*** it, is the freedom that eludes the mind. Then, slowly, what arises is a chuckle, then maybe a slightly hysterical belly laugh.

Because all of that taking it oh so seriously that the persona was doing – the ego taking itself to be everything – is seen for the absurdity it is.

The ego will die. The small “me” will die. It can die right now. Death of the body and mind isn’t death of what they arise in. And those struggles and conniptions and flashes of bliss and happiness that are humanity can be truly relished, by themselves, by just doing what happens…which is all anyone ever does anyway.

What's Gone And What's Past Help Should Be Past Grief.

2010-01-12T04:45:00.007Z

Why, why, why? How does it all work? These questions can be explored; the story of the exploration of these questions arises all the time. There's nothing wrong with it. Perhaps the difficulty is that the answer to these questions is what the individual believes will bring relief from suffering. Suffering, after all, must be relieved.

Live your life. Live it. That is what you are doing. There is no way to get it wrong. No matter what the quality of life, or its apparent circumstances, or how much it is plagued by internal, thought-bound activity, you cannot fail to live your life. The goal is met; existence is accomplished.

It doesn't matter that it isn't in perfect balance. Such a judgement is subjective anyway. It doesn't matter if you "fail" to be "selfless". Selfishness, or the appearance of that circumstance, and the firing neurons and belief systems and interaction with the environment that give rise to the judgement "I am not selfless enough" is just another story we tell ourselves about ourselves, with no more substance than the ghost of Christmas past. (All of Scrooge's ghosts were the embodiment of guilt.)

It doesn't even matter if your life is one, big, chaotic, unmanageable mess. There might arise some new revelations about your circumstances, and what blocks are in place that keep you running from reality (the "now"), whatever form the running takes: actual geographical change, working too much, reading too much, taking mind-altering substances, neglecting your responsibilities, or protecting yourself from engaging with others. There can be revelations, and a reckoning, and the healing of your ego, new risk-taking, meeting your responsibilities head-on, looking at your past nakedly and without the stories you've been telling yourself about yourself, and those stories losing their power over your behaviour. This is how the story can unfold. But these apparently momentous happenings, whilst making for an easier, less guilt-ridden, more efficient, and happier life story, are not the be-all and end-all. Beneath and beyond and infused with every happening, is simply what you are, untouched by the story, whatever that story may be; the story, of no import, is also the point. Whatever is happening, that is the point: simply that it is happening.

What you are is what you are. No matter what.

And Woody, life IS like this!

Not Knowing How To Find The Open Air, But Toiling Desperately To Find It Out.

2010-01-09T07:29:00.001Z

Seekers of something other than what is are convinced there must be some extraordinary difference in the quality of experience other than that which is already known; the flavour of reality must change, and subsequently, the motives for all apparent actions. The very timbre of what is heard must be sweeter; what is felt must feel more whole; what is seen must seem to be more crystalline and defined, the very essence of reality contained in each apprehended atom of the appearance that shows up for us. Whatever is known now is disregarded as incomplete, is perceived as lacking in some way. All of us seek to imbue some greater consequence to experience than what is already experienced. Imagination intervenes to provide an expectation of a world imbued with more: more meaning, more light, more love, more sensation, more appreciation. Whatever simply is, is not enough. Whatever simply is, is judged to be lacking. Whatever the sights, sounds, feelings, sensations of the world that appears to show up for us is not enough; there must be more.

These expectations are what keeps the apprehended world from being, to our perception, something other than the miraculous whole it is. And yet, the expectations and judgements themselves are part of the tapestry of wholeness, sensible and appropriate, and are merely humanity's facility for exploration and self-consciousness at play. There is no better way, in the story of seeking meaning, to find meaning other than by feeling that everything is meaningless; there is no better way to find wholeness than to feel that life is incomplete. We are constructed flawlessly for the purpose of exploration and being, looking at itself. Far from being dismissed out of hand, the appearance of the world and our seeming interaction with it is the point. It doesn't matter what that interaction is. There is no perfect blueprint for being other than what is apparently presented. The questioning, the anger, the resistance are fitting and could not be any other than what they are.

Yet it can be seen that the most mundane actions, judged to be dreary and ineffectual, are in fact simply the miracle of consciousness in whatever guise seems to be presented. This, this life, showing up just as it does, is perfect, complete and whole just as it is. It is so ironic that we agonise and question and seek and judge lacking and struggle, hoping to find what is exactly what is. Even when this is accepted, there seems to be the need for some act of will or intervention from beyond to make whatever is more than it is. Awakening, enlightenment, or whatever we're calling it today, is simply seeing that what is, is what is sought. What was sought was the very seeking. What was lacking was appreciation of lack. There is nothing different, in some nonexistent future, that will bring you to what you already are. You are life; and there is no time beyond this now, this moment, this seamless reality that is always here, and never to be more than it already is. So read with interest about the ego, and its false assumptions, and its taking on of a role bigger than it is, and its case of cosmic mistaken identity. It is the reading that is the point, not the content. It is life, this very moment, that is the answer. And if it seems to help to conceptualise that you are awareness, and everything arises in this awareness, including the ego-construct, that's fine too. It is the thinking of these things that is life, not the conclusions. Here is everything. There is nowhere, no when, and no one but here and now and this.

This I Must Do, Or Know Not What To Do: Yet This I Will Not Do, Do How I Can.

2010-01-02T11:57:00.004Z

Almost nobody, it seems, can believe how simple awakening is. Enlightenment, or whatever you want to label it, realisation as some call it, is simply what you are, right now. It's no different than what is happening - here, now. The thoughts that label whatever reality is for you, the thoughts that tell you that this isn't it, even they are it. The feelings that seem to be discontent or frustration, they are it too. Those thoughts that tell you that it couldn't be so simple...that it couldn't be any different than whatever it is you seem to have been experiencing all your life...they are what you are looking for. The thoughts that say "How could this possibly be it? This is boring!" Well, the boring-ness is it too, as are the thoughts that label it "boring". Those thoughts are just what's coming up in what you are. What you are is here and now. What you are is everything. What you are is not dependent on what your mind makes of it all. You will never be any closer to what you are than you already are. Those thoughts that it might be something different...those are it, too. Nothing is not it. Everything is what you are looking for. What looks is what you are looking for. Looking is what you are looking for. Here it is!

Enjoy.

For Nothing Had Begot My Something Grief; Or Something Hath The Nothing That I Grieve.

2009-12-27T07:09:00.000Z

Writing about this, whatever this is, requires using concepts to dissipate concepts. The imperative is to describe the indescribable, pure existence, the thing that is whether thoughts are interpreting it or not. It's rather like painting a picture of someone eating an orange in order to describe an orange's flavour, or looking very closely at a mountain spring, marveling at its wetness and freshness, rather than going over and scooping up a drink of it. Contradictions abound the describing of it, for language is necessarily dual, and having mutually exclusive (yet simultaneously occurring) opposites is the nature of concepts. One moment you may read that there are no paradoxes, all is one; in the next book it may say that the appearance of time and the nonexistence of it is an unresolvable paradox.

It doesn't matter what you read, it is the reading that is this. Thoughts are much maligned in the search for enlightenment. Yet thoughts are this too; they cannot take you down the wrong path; there is no wrong path. It doesn't matter at all what is happening, how it is interpreted (or not) and what feelings come up about it all. Life is here, always. It doesn't matter what form it is taking, or appears to take. Life is life. Whatever arises is the same thing, in a different guise. Whatever arises is equally valid. And the mind will have a heyday interpreting, judging, comparing, and ferreting out relative truth and worth at every apparent new happening. But that interpretation, judgment, comparison and relativity are simply what is arising. The thoughts and feelings seem to come and go. They might be anything. They are of no importance, and they can seem fun and stimulating, or miserable and destructive. Whatever they may be, they are not what you are.

Trying too hard and desperate frustration may be the best labels for some thoughts and feelings that arise. Relaxing can come up too. Realising that the thing that wants death of the ego is the ego itself, and the ego has lots of problems with this, can rise to compassion, which can seem to ease the whole process (that isn't really happening at all). There is no prize that awaits; nothing can await; everything, infinity, eternity, and boundlessness are already the case. And if boundlessness is not obvious, then exploring the microcosm of life might reveal it, at last, to be a microcosm. Perhaps when "you" are least expecting it.

Look What You Do, You Do It Still i' The Dark.

2009-12-20T08:13:00.002Z

There are a lot of pointers out there for those who seek enlightenment.

Some of them are along the lines of "there is nothing you can do to awaken. Anything that is done, is done by the ego, and the ego can't awaken; awakening is the death of the ego. So no matter how much you meditate or self-inquire, those actions of meditation or self-inquiry will only reinforce the ego's existence and importance. So do nothing. Or maybe go to a satsang or have a one-to-one talk with a teacher that resonates with you, where the present energy might make the obvious more obvious."

Others go something like: "You are the awareness that everything arises in. You Are That. Start with that; accept it fully. Investigate that fact of I Am. I Am is the only fact that cannot be deconstructed or denied. There is only I Am. I Am is not limited in any way. It is the present awareness that is infinite and boundless, the light that makes what arises possible. Try to deconstruct I Am and you will see that you are THAT."

Fans of the first pointers probably hope that the hopelessness of the message might cause the seeker to give up, and thus stop identifying with being a seeker, which makes awakening more of a possibility.

Fans of the second pointers are more direct, and encourage the seeker to deconstruct everything except the very basic fact of existence, thus freeing the mind of the many distractions and tangents it is liable to go on, all of which are decried as spiritual bullshit, although, if you're not a seeker, are often interesting blueprints of how the ego can conduct itself in the story in time that seems to unfold.

Both point to the same thing. There is always a danger of revering the pointer, or the one who points; it's the old "finger pointing at the moon" analogy, where the finger (or the owner of the finger) is worshipped, until the moon itself is seen, and sometimes the finger (or its owner) is so scintillating that the moon is never looked at.

All of these pointers are called pointers because they can never be what they are pointing to. All pointers are concepts. What is pointed to is present awareness, something that is possessed of "everyone" all the "time", even if that "time" is taken up with a lot of pondering and living in your head. No matter what seems to be going on, present awareness is always the case, whether we are poking it with a mind-stick or not.

If no pointers seem to work, and seeking has become an addiction, and starts to interfere with relationships and life, and truly is making the unfolding story a "worse" one, there is perhaps a practical suggestion that has nothing to do with non-duality or present awareness or enlightenment or whatever we call it during the holiday season.

Your mind can perhaps just accept enlightenment, or however you want to put it and describe it, on a conceptual level, which is after all the mind’s only level. It can say, “OK. I am the awareness that everything arises in. All this really solid-seeming appearance, I understand that it’s illusory, just so much energy, just so many electrical mind-interpretations, from a mind in a brain that is comprised of atoms that contain nothing. I fully understand that this is all meaningless, and that it’s just nothing, wanting to be something; life wanting to be. I completely accept that this is my true nature, that what I truly am is not knowable, and the day-to-day life I seem to lead is not lead by me, nor does it exist in time, and that feeling of being me is actually a big ME, common to everything and everyone, with different apparent content. All that stuff I’ve read and discussed, I know this to be true, true in an absolute sense, even if I can’t get around the need to understand what is ineffable.”

And then, just move on. Live your life with all your apparent tools. Stop identifying with being a seeker, because you know there’s no such thing…you are awareness, and you accept that. In the story of time that the mind will always facilitate for you, the “ah ha” thing, which you know is probably not anything different from what you already experience, will likely come…and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter, because you’re living your life in the best way you can, free from any notions that it will all be “better” “after” enlightenment because your poor, belaboured mind now accepts that everything you need – all of eternity and infinity – is already always the case.

This seems to work for a lot of frustrated seekers. And more importantly, you may find that the miracle of your family, the excitement and risk of engaging with the world, the world challenges you read about and discuss with your friends, the living you make, and you own sweet quirks, strengths and foibles will become beautifully intense and satisfying as you are more present for your life. You are already the passion that makes life possible. Perhaps you will be freer to BE that passion, rather than just noting it and poking it with your mind-stick.

These are more meaningless concepts, but fun and hopefully useful, if usefulness is the goal...and I'm not sure it is. But compassion arises, and these words are written, in the spirit of taking risks and engaging with the world in its "online community" guise.

Much love from one nonexistent ego to many apparent others!

To My Sick Soul, As Sin's True Nature Is, Each Toy Seems Prologue To Some Great Amiss.

2009-12-13T13:21:00.005Z

There is so much tugging and pulling at the heartstings of the seeker; so many admonitions, so much advice, so many entreaties, so many commands. So many edicts to "dump the spiritual bullshit" or "get off the hamster wheel" or "stop circling the mountain and look up to see the mountain". I am not a teacher; I won't be telling any apparent person what to do, where to go, or how still to be to "get" this "enlightenment" stuff. A few words of advice might slip out now and again, but as the story seems to unfold to me, there are paths that work, paths that work for some "individuals" but not others, some who conclude the only path is no path, some who resonate with "there is no one" and some who resonate with "be still and see there is no witness". The "ah ha" moment might be a startling mind-event with bells, whistles, visions and bliss, or it might be a gentle shift that leaves the former seeker in gales of subdued chuckles, or it might "happen" and only be noticed "later" with an accompanying classic comedy slap on the forehead. In an unfolding story of common sense and mental health, it's clear that we don't often know what's "good" for us, and an endless circling of the mind, although frustrating, is often the fruitless series of events that needs to happen before a cycle is broken; before the hamster wheel slips from its fastenings, spilling us out onto the wood shavings where we look around and finally notice we're in a cage.

The most uncomfortable, tragic event can unfold into wisdom. The most futile, unprofitable enterprise is a journey of revelation. Some games may be more enjoyed than others, but each game is the expression of perfection, the reflection of that which longs to see itself, which is that longing and nothing more. The frustrated longing of the seeker is the sweetest, most apropos feeling, the clearest reflection of life's yearning to be. How strange and paradoxical that we cannot see what we are, when what we are is all we are.

We are not steeped in enlightenment; there is no enlightenment; there is only this, full stop, here now. Whichever teacher you are drawn to, listen. Whatever method you apply, delight in it. Whatever it seems you are doing, you are awareness, and everything you see, think, hear, touch, smell, feel and do, is arising in what you are, no matter what that is, no matter how to the point or not. You cannot run away from what you are. And if, by some accident, the illusion of reality is seen through, all those ups and downs and tragedies and joys can be savoured without the defenses of the ego in the way; but if all you seem to be is a bundle of defenses, savour them as well, for they are no less a perfect expression of being than anything else.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHu8LAWSKxU

For That Which Thou Hast Sworn To Do Amiss Is Not Amiss When It Is Truly Done.

2009-12-10T08:05:00.001Z

All truth is relative. Every story, every system of belief is subject to disintegration if examined and deconstructed. Take anything, any notion, and ask, "is this true?" Can it be said to be true in every possible circumstance, every potential scenario? Every single thing that is what you've taken your life to be is an illusion, very tenuous in its existence; it is merely interestingly arranged energy. And existence, simple existence, is the only thing that cannot be deconstructed. This is the nub that so many seekers long to get to, as do we all, in so many interesting ways. These ways are the playground of existence. It's all very well, stilling thought, being present, seeing/being/knowing the true, unhindered nature of existence, unfiltered by the ego or anything else; the boundlessness of it, the lack of need for it to be captured and claimed, is something many try to express - and have tried, over and over, from the cave paintings to the lovemaking last night. We are the expression; we are the passion of being. We are the playground, and have ego and body and others and world and challenges and depression and unrest and tolerance and patience and children and time and space so many, many other playthings in order to express. Simple existence is the starting point; mind and time are the gift of awareness to itself. What we do, how we do it, when and where we do it is the game. It is delightful; it is devastating; it is relished. We construct belief systems that limit the game, and perhaps break free of them and change the game. We construct and hone the ego so that the player is known. The ego is necessary to negotiate the life game; and the player can change or grow, or regress, or be frustratingly stuck on a plateau; these are the nuances of the game. Ego can be good or bad, but the inherent nature of life is passion, life wanting to be, in all forms and every way. Our true nature is boundless, eternal, and infinite; and it is nothingness, nothing exists whatsoever, so the interestingly arranged energy that so many take to be the only reality is, in fact, miraculous. Once it is seen that nothing exists, despite appearances, and that indescribably essential and fundamental simple awareness is at last known, the game is seen for a game, and the game is no longer its own limitation. Just be; or if the game is still clung to, relish it, in all its many miraculous and gentle, astounding and cruel guises. There is nothing, that is not this.

My Fear Hath Catch'd Your Fondness: Now I See The Mystery Of Your Loneliness.

2009-12-01T15:03:00.001Z

You could say that awareness isn't dependent upon consciousness. Awareness is, always, whether or not there are bits of electricity firing away in the brain to produce a solid reference point that is identified with. Whether those reference points are there or not, "corrupted" or not (as with brain injury, delusional psychosis, etc), awareness - life - always is. The small thing we seem to be is a convenience, perfectly crafted by itself to apprehend itself, with "aberrations" (altered states of mind, hallucinations etc.) thrown in for variety. Without consciousness, you are that indefinable thing variously labeled awareness, God, presence, Sunyata etc., not a thing, but some essence that simply is, and isn't bound by time or space. And that's what you are, completely boundless, infinite, and eternal, whether you like it or not.

So why do so many feel it as such a horrible thing? Probably because the reflection of the infinite - what we know as day to day life - has taken on the identity of Totality, and as each day to day story of a life comes to an end, we can't take the thought of not existing in what we believe is the only way. Fear of death, in other words. The small self loves to exist - it doesn't want to not exist. It's very understandable.

The possible "good" thing is - the reflection is no less "one" than the indefinable essence, awareness, that it reflects. Splitting it into two - awareness and reflection - is a head's up that the mind is involved, splitting away (as is its job). Take any concept with a massive grain of salt, no matter how brilliant, or simple, or direct, or seemingly "The Truth". When we just get on with it, be it, do it, think whatever we think without picking it to bits - and actually there's nothing wrong with picking it to bits - life is more smoothly lived, with less apparent suffering. And suffering itself is part of the appearance as well. Whatever it is that seems to be happening, it happening just as it must. If the small self can somehow let go of needing to be in charge of it, it can be much more efficient...but it doesn't need to be "more efficient". It only needs to be exactly as it is, or as it seems.

So many people want to train themselves to see what's right in front of their noses, and, in fact, is their nose, and the seeing of it. They are tortured by their thoughts. Well...remember that what we're calling "themselves" is probably the ego, suffering from a rather grandiose case of mistaken identity. There can certainly arise a story of the ego doing its best to train itself to see thoughts as objects, and the objects are not what you are etc., but maybe it's an easier story to just ignore those pesky thoughts. "My" thoughts can do what they like - doesn't bother me a bit. They're not "my" thoughts. They're just thoughts. Awareness is, no matter what. One way of calming down the hyper mind (that is the tool of duality) is to think of your thoughts as oneness (awareness), "thought-ing". Again, whatever thoughts come up, or seem to, are what thoughts must come up. Nothing "wrong" with any of them.

People seem to make a big deal of the story of the "awakening moment" - it's something solid the ego can hold on to and wait for, deflecting its death for "another time". Well, just remember that "what happened for me" is just another nothingness, made apparently "real", and exists only as memory NOW. It's always now o'clock. My fevered (and tolerated) brain tends to put a story to it along the lines of "I realised what I had been looking for all this time was my life, just exactly as it is." There seemed to be a "shift" but not much of one. The thing that seemed to die was the need for whatever was happening to be anything else than exactly what it was. And what it was, and is, is just life toddling along as it always has, unresisted. Very, very, very, very simple! The mind will complicate it; the mind can try explain the mystery of life in any of a billion billion ways. I don't think awareness gives a flying fart whether awakening happens or not. It's just more dust in the wind, a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing, but a hell of a lot of fun, and to be relished.

A good friend of mine (Mike over at http://thepeacefulself.com) says that the ego is comprised entirely of fear. That definitely strikes a chord. Perhaps this is a maxim: Anything you don't want, don't fight it. Go with it. Feel the fear. Actually, you don't have to do a thing...you just don't know it "yet"! And there is no yet. Awareness isn't hanging around, getting more aware while your thoughts fool around with trying to figure all this out. You are infinite, eternal, whole, complete and perfect NOW. There is only now. Full stop. And whatever it is you're looking for, it's not what you imagine it to be...boxing it in will keep it ever elusive...and paradoxically, boxing it in and trying to figure it all out is just perfect too. You're doing it. You've done it. You're here, even if "here" is doubts and pain and suffering and financial instability and bereavement. This. Is. It.

To Counterfeit Dying, When A Man There By Liveth, Is To Be No Counterfeit, But The True And Perfect Image of Life Indeed.

2009-11-30T09:34:00.006Z

Here's the webcast from last night. It's long...skip through it...I have no idea what I said!

The Felon Loaden With Irons Wiser Than The Judge, If Wisdom Be In Suffering.

2009-11-26T11:49:00.000Z

What about suffering? The bound-up ego, fashioned of fear, resists anything presumed to be a threat; that resistance is suffering. There may be pain, but there need not be suffering. Yet remember, as this is discussed and pondered, that pain and suffering and ego are labels, words, concepts. The feelings and states they attempt to describe are fleeting, utterly so with the complete fluidity of reality, and these words, as all words try to, point to something else that is "real". So take it all with a large grain of salt; there is very little to say on any subject that can be pinned down and labeled "unchanging truth".

There are objections to the pointer "suffering is oneness, too." There are volumes devoted to relieving suffering. There are skills taught and techniques suggested, all for the purpose of delivering the sufferer from that resistance. Resistance itself is said to be undesirable. Resistance, and the inevitable suffering it creates, are the fearful ego's reaction to what threatens it, its existence, and its identity as the most important thing in the world. The point of all this teaching of Advaita and nonduality is, supposedly, to release us from the bondage of self, of ego. Yet the bondage of ego is indisputably part of it all, this Life. Duality needs opposites, subject and object, for oneness to apprehend itself. The end of the search is the realisation that all is oneness, that we are pure awareness, nothing more or less, and the fragile ego construct is seen as the small and unimportant thing it is, unburdened by the mistaken identity of All. The appearance is not what you are, it is often stated. The mirror of manifest reality is not what it reflects. What you are is mind-boggling, untranslatable, boundless Life. The appearance can be seen as the illusory thing it is, despite its tenacious solidity. And, can be seen that there was only a veil hiding this thing from itself; that reality has been itself all along.

Even in trying to understand such a fundamental concept as oneness, the mind, splitter of oneness, finds it necessary to define awareness as the ultimate and the manifested reality (consciousness) as a shadowy, wavery, poor second.

Yet the appearance, the ego, all that which we are encouraged to discount, though seemingly limited, is beautiful in all its polar opposites and more subtle modularities. In the reflection lives suffering, for suffering is needed for acceptance to be understood and felt. There are no easy answers for suffering, or just HOW to stop resisting, although you may find a few helpful hints here and there. There are supposedly ways and means to deflate and destroy the ego, despite its unwillingness to die, for it has had possession of your identity for so long. Some of these are: stop thinking, if you can; ponder that mind is the creator of time; peel all awareness back to the most basic of realities - that you exist, often referred to as "I Am". If you are suffering, there will probably be help at hand, a stirring to action, a way out, with some energetic flow from resistance to acceptance. The story of life toddles along, and no matter how profound the subject, or how near to absolute reality to protagonist gets, it's all just a story in time.

For suffering to be relieved is a craving of the ego. The need for life to be "better" is the ego's desire. Acceptance is the opposite of resistance; again, perhaps that is the answer, if the question is "How do I stop resisting life?". Yet there are no mistakes. Perhaps resistance shouldn't be resisted; it may just play itself out, in this story. Maybe suffering is there so redemption can follow, for redemption has no meaning unless there is something - suffering - to be delivered from. Perhaps the appearance isn't so vastly inferior to pure awareness; maybe they are the same thing, despite the inconceivable paradox and incongruity of that possibility. Maybe there isn't anything better than right here, right now. If that can be considered by the suffering ego, perhaps the suffering can just be splendid, painful and intensely felt Life.

It Must Be An Answer Of Most Monstrous Size That Must Fit All Demands.

2009-11-21T11:50:00.009Z

FAQ

I can't know what to seek if I don't know what it is I'm seeking in the first place.

Whatever form the mind projects onto seeking, making it an object or objective, what always is sought is home; what is sought is whatever is missing. Whatever is missing is often given a convenient name, like "happiness" or "security" or "truth". But what is sought is always this: to be an integral part of creation, rather than a lonely, separate, fearful, boxed-in, limited prisoner of ourselves.

If I'm sad, I seek happiness. It's easy to take the thing that needs to be changed, figure out its opposite, and then do what you have to do to get it. But I'm not sad anymore; I just want more. There is something more and I can't get away from it. To tell you the truth, I can't define what it is that makes me want more. If I can't define that then I have no idea what to look for.

That inchoate (unspecific) longing is simply the desire to belong, to come home, to no longer be a separate person.

What is enlightenment?

The realisation that everything is awareness, made manifest for the mere joy of it. There is only awareness, oneness, one unified whole; the appearance and ego are just here so that awareness can apprehend itself.

What do I really want?

To feel that there is nothing missing.

I seek enlightenment, yet I really don't have any idea what that is. What I am really looking for the thing most important to me more than anything else, is inner peace. For some reason I got the idea that enlightenment is a sense of deep and abiding peace. But does it really matter if I am "enlightened" As long as I have the peace I want that's all that matters, right?

"Enlightenment" doesn't guarantee "inner peace" because turmoil is a part of Everything too. However if the ego isn't taken seriously by itself anymore, many of the reasons for turmoil are moot, because the ego-structure doesn't have to bear its remarkable case of mistaken identity anymore; it doesn't have that huge burden of being All.

And it doesn't matter if you are enlightened. In fact, what you probably know as you - the ego structure - can't be enlightened. Enlightenment is seeing through the ego. And nothing matters; there is no meaning; the appearance, reality manifest, is play. Simply play. Meaningless play, where every apparent manifestation is a miraculous feat of existence.

Now that I know what I most desire, I'm still wondering what I am actually looking for. What is the opposite of this vague "wanting more"? What is enlightenment?

Put another way, the opposite of "wanting more" is seeing that whatever is, is enough...more than enough...whole and complete, just as it is, whatever it is.

Is it abiding inner peace?

It is simply seeing what is, and there is nothing that finds it wanting.

Is it detachment?

It is direct presence, without taking the machinations of the mind, thoughts, and ego-concerns too seriously. You are always in direct presence of absolute reality; in fact, you are absolute reality. Perhaps more intense than detached, although detachment can come up just like everything else.

Is it Oneness with All?

You are already Oneness with All. In fact, you are All.

Knowing oneself to be God?

Maybe God is a difficult concept, with a lot of baggage. Perhaps knowing yourself to be the whole Universe, both creator and creation, is a slightly better way of putting it.

Is there a point to seeking?

Not exactly. There is no point to anything, other than its intrinsic value in simple existence.

The only reason we seek for anything in the first place is because we think it will get us somewhere. It's completely the Ego!

The ego is just doing its job. The ego might like to grab hold of Totality and keep it, but Totality is too much for it.

The ego says "I need to feel better and this enlightenment stuff will make me feel better."

Maybe the ego can say "Ya know, I can bear not feeling better. Not feeling better is just fine." And with that, perhaps there is acceptance, and letting go...the ego can perhaps let go of itself. And the ego can also go right ahead and do its job, negotiating through the convenience of time and its story. The story might change to something "better", or it might not. But a full, whole and complete human existence is certainly always available. The "bad stuff" is seen perhaps not as something to be avoided, and not exactly enjoyed...but appreciated, even relished. And certainly, there can be a lot less fear.

I get fed up with the Advaita stuff.

It is frustrating, the futility of Oneness not being able to see itself because it already is Itself. But what's wrong with frustration?

So what is the question?

Maybe the question is: why do I have to feel "better"?

Whatever the question, the answer is always the same...
This. Is. It.

See The Metaphysical Junkie for the inspiration for this post.

This Is The Monstruosity In Love, Lady, That The Will Is Infinite And The Execution Confined.

2009-11-17T05:34:00.001Z

Boundlessness is not going to be more infinite tomorrow. Timelessness isn't going to be more eternal after the next satsang. You are whole, complete, perfect and limitless right now. There isn't any other time, and there isn't any other state. So what are you waiting for? There is no utopia but this amazing playground, where everything is always available and every possibility balances on the knife's edge, teetering deliciously, free falling this way or that with the merest whisper of intention. Perhaps you feel your small self is limited and limiting, getting in the way of infinite vision, hampering this shining thing that is enlightenment, where everything is wonderful and all cares and woes dissolve into some sagacious, loving, compassionate ether; where all apparent acts are righteous, and the story of life is devoid of harm and malice. That idea keeps you waiting for what is omnipresent. This expectation veils what is omniscient; the sense that you are not already what you are hides your omnipotence.

Liberation isn't about being more than what you are; it is recognising that what you are, right now, is already free. Enlightenment isn't something you can claim, attain, or take comfort in; it is seeing there was never a limited, separate, sweetly human creature in the first place. Awareness is this, just this, and whatever this seems to be is you, created by you, for your delight. It can be seen. So while you self-inquire, sit in silence, be with stillness, stop thought, meditate, talk with others, agonise over ever being enlightened, make your breakfast, argue with your boyfriend, write tomes about how inadequate life is, feel frustrated, and lament the woes of the world - while you do whatever it is that is done - oneness isn't hanging around, getting any "one-er". The dance of life is danced, and you are along for the ride, the rider, the ridden, and the maker of the ride itself, always. Not tomorrow, or after you've read the next book, or sometime in some nonexistent future. Now. It has to be now. There is only ever now.

My interview is up on conscious.tv, but seeing that won't help either!

The End, The Beginning: A Silent Post

2009-11-15T09:58:00.008Z

Time Hath, My Lord, a Wallet At His Back, Wherein He Puts Alms For Oblivion.

2009-11-14T09:26:00.004Z

"I seem to come back," say some, confused. It seems so important that there is always that stillness of mind, that the mind and its thoughts - oneness, "thought-ing" - are "stilled". The seeker of enlightenment, it seems, has to have something to do. "Be quiet long enough to see this," or meditate, or go to a meeting or "gathering of friends together" or a satsang where oneness, somehow, is more obvious. Join a live webcast or a virtual meeting in Second Life, or a three day residential, or a have few one-on-one sessions with an Advaita teacher, paid for or not, neo- or traditional. Even the edict to give up, the insistence that there is no one already, the maxim that any sort of practice fuels separation by emphasizing there is indeed a seeker who can do any of this, gives the seeker something to ponder, to avoid, to do.

Yet there is nothing wrong with any of this. Oneness is, whether the "me" drops away or not; whether there are "glimpses", and the small self seems to return, or not. Comfort is not the goal - there is no goal - not even enlightenment. But maybe it's a comfort to realise that this is, whether it is seen, or not, by no one. There are no goals, for goals need time, and there is no time; time is a convenience, just as the separate individual is. Oneness is, no matter what. Giving up may seem to happen. Or it may not. There is nothing to do but what is done. And if what is done is seeking, and what is felt is longing, and what is experienced is suffering, perhaps it is a comfort to know that even separation is oneness, in a particularly tricky guise. And if you're hopelessly separate, suffering and alone, perhaps it's an idea to treat yourself as you would some other separate-but-not individual you found to be suffering; that is, with compassion. Perhaps, too, there is comfort in the fact that there is no need to suffer and wait; it's not gonna get any more "one" than it is right here, and right now.

You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye.

2009-11-06T07:05:00.003Z

Why even talk about this? Concepts about enlightenment are fruitless, and can never be it. Why not spend time eradicating poverty? Last night I heard a comedian end his act by saying "If we [America] used all the trillions of dollars spent on weapons to eradicate poverty - which it would do, many, many times over - we could explore space together as a unified world". Well, in spite of the massive logistical social/national problems with such a task, and the fact he left out disease, he has a point. What I and so many write about, whether they emphasize there is no utopia but this or not, there seems to be a real lack of putting value on the story of life, and making that story a more compassionate one. It's an illusion, we say; you have no choice in anything you do. Yet seeing reality clearly brings with it - or can - a certain lack of fear, a loss of ego-concerns. The apparent actions of one's life can usually change to something "better", when we are not in the way, boxing our delicately constructed ego into a tight, protected corner, or lashing out in fear-driven anger against apparent others who threaten us. This is not a philosophy of life; it is merely seeing through the illusion.

"There is ONLY seeing-knowing. The expression is NOT it – the expression is like a reflection in the mirror. The reflection is never what is reflected and there is a SEEMING distance between these APPARENT two and YET they are actually One." -Gilbert Schultz

Gilbert's pointer to pure awareness - or seeing-knowing, beingness, or whatever we call it on Fridays - can be confusing, when in one breath the writer says there is only seeing-knowing and the the appearance is not seeing-knowing, yet in the next breath says that the appearance is, indeed, oneness. It's the kind of paradox the mind hates - the mind can't stand mutually exclusive yet co-existing concepts. They are, after all, just concepts. You can pay attention to the machinations of life - the ins and outs of the expression - pay attention to the apparent causes and effects - or there can just be paying attention. Thought, it is often said in these blogs and books about enlightenment, is overvalued; too much importance is placed on it, it is said. Boundless, infinite, eternal, timeless awareness is before thought; without thought. Thoughts, and the ego-structure they create and reinforce, are the problem; or perhaps put more mildly, the difficulty.

Well, maybe so. But it seems to me we have the perfect mechanism to explore, act, ponder and emote right here, staring us in the face; it is the face. We are boundless, and not limited; yet any apparent limitations of manifested life are the perfect playground for any and all actions. So if a strong urge to eradicate poverty comes up, volunteer. If not, don't. Without embracing the ego-fears of worthlessness, the energy for action is available and the freedom can be intense. However, the danger of trying to describe any supposed benefits of enlightenment is that the ego will desperately cling onto the idea of a "better" life. Life doesn't have to be orchestrated by a small self, just seemingly executed by it; All-ness takes care of it, opening up the story in ways the ego could never have imagined. And if the small self seems indelible, the playground is still here, oneness is, and many possibilities are always ripe. If there is a point to awakening, and there isn't for the ego, it is the intrinsic value of liberation itself. But don't take my word for it, or any word. It is everything you are, seem to be, thought or no thought; this, just as exactly as it is. See it "for yourself"; just see it; it is simplicity itself; it is everything, now, here, this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybDOJP7FP6Q

Why, Courage Then! What Cannot Be Avoided 'Twere Childish Weakness To Lament Or Fear.

2009-11-03T07:56:00.003Z

Everywhere - yes, there is me.
So whatever comes to be
Will melt into all that was,
This, no matter what life does.

Here I am, and here I stay
I am everything today.
I am time, and I am space,
Every deed, and every place

Every when is when I am
I am lion, I am lamb
I am anger, I am peace
I will never ever cease.

I, the only thing that's real,
That can harm, and that can heal,
I, the only thing that lasts,
No more futures, no more pasts.

I am what has always been.
I am sainthood, I am sin.
I am everything I see.
I am what it is to be.

All that happens, that is me
All love and antipathy.
I cannot reject myself;
Take me from the dusty shelf.

Everything - yes, that is me.
I am all, totality
I am me, and I am you.
This, no matter what I do.

S. Foxton 2009

My Brain More Busy Than The Labouring Spider Weaves Tedious Snares To Trap Mine Enemies.

2009-10-29T09:40:00.006Z

Thoughts are gifts, from nothing to no one; they are oneness like everything else. Thoughts are not your thoughts, even the ones that say "I can't see that everything is one" or "it's a good idea, having this affair" or "I'm going to teach that son-of-a-bitch a lesson. He can't drive like that and get away with it!". All those thoughts that seem to come together and make up a separate, special "you" that things happen to - they are oneness, being two-ness, life looking at itself. Meditation and self-inquiry, those tools for stilling thought so that oneness seems more obvious, are useful tools, yet not necessary for oneness to be; oneness is, whether it is seen by some separate, delicately constructed persona or not. But you want to see it! You want it more than anything else. You never will. Rachel never will, Bert never will. But Bert or Rachel can fall away, or seem to, and their concerns can be not so absorbing, and their suffering can be pain that seems to come and go, and their joy can be boundless, contained even within the sharp intensity of pain.

People who seek enlightenment come to find something in oneness; something better, something absolute. Nothing less than the Secret of Life will satisfy them; that knowledge of the meaning of life, its true nature; reality, seen clearly, lived completely. There are so many ideas and concepts about what enlightenment is like and what it should be. They have some idea that it should be more than is already the case. Yet this is reality; this is enough. Not only is there never any time but this, every practice reinforces the idea that there is someone to get this, and it isn't already what is. There need be no ah-ha moment, no peeling away each layer of the ego, no goal in some non-existent future. Enlightenment is as easy and natural as breathing, heartbeat, seeing your lover's face. It is here, now, and everything. So don't fret at the incongruency of life unfolding, timelessly, in some unmistakable line of time; this duality is a gift, from life to life itself, so that the only thing that is - awareness, or God, to some - can apprehend itself, in consciousness.

Perhaps the unfolding story can never hold the suffering it seemed, when boundlessness is known; but make no deals with oneness; there are no guarantees; and whatever happens is oneness, no matter what it feels like. The mind's small or large hurts and causes still unfold, for life must see itself, and see itself in all the many guises available. These tiny wonders that are life are but a hint of what truly is, and what truly is, is nothing different from the life that is right now, and the very fact it exists. Don't worry about time in timelessness, or thought's contraction in boundlessness, or imperfection in perfection, or any of the incongruencies that duality affords; or worry away, if that's what comes up. This two-ness is oneness. We are lived, until the living is us, and us the living. You are everything, already.

Be Absolute For Death; Either Death or Life Shall Thereby Be The Sweeter.

2009-10-23T13:05:00.003+01:00

Questions I've been asked, and answers; a foray into the first person, rife with the landmines of presence vs. presents.

I was asked if I felt I possessed personal power, and if I, for example, blessed an airplane as I boarded. No, if I go on an airplane I don't bless it or anything. I don't know about that kind of stuff, messing with energy, etc. With my luck, I'd get the blessing just a li-i-i-tle bit wrong and the whole thing would go down in flames!

I was asked: Do we teach what we need to learn? Well, if you're just talking about day-to-day life unfolding, it seems to me that there are a lot of mirrors and clues about lessons to be learned in every person we meet, or reaction/response we have. I teach my kids "pick up your disgusting dirty socks" so I better be darn sure I pick up my own dirty socks. The dirty socks on the floor offend me; what does that say about me? It says that I better yell a bit more loudly and persistently at the kids - and husband for that matter - until I have bullied and nagged them into picking up their horrible, crusty socks.

I was asked: Do I attempt to control anything in my life? That last answer takes care of that question: I attempt to control my family's behaviour with floors, and socks.

The personal power I possess is minimal. Although I try to use my power over the family's sock habits, through manipulation and aggression, they largely ignore me. Maybe I should chant some stuff and use some hoo-do, or cast a circle and call up the Goddess and the Great Horned God, but even a whole platoon of elemental spirits could easily be ignored by a child on level 10 of Fallout 3.

I don't really goal-set. Years ago I read "Creative Visualisation" by Shakti Gawain, but it was a bust. It was too much like telling the Universe what I thought was good for me. Now it seems that goals come up, writing the blog for instance, or writing a book which I've just done, but the difference seems to be I'm not agonising over them or trying to find my "true purpose" or needing them to validate or define me. I am defined, and undefined. It seems much more fluid and easier now. The less I'm involved - meaning ego-fears or concerns - the better it goes, whatever it is. Nonduality just means that ego-stuff comes up, due to long conditioning of the mind/body thingy, but doesn't really stick around; there's not much for it to hook onto. It also isn't taken very seriously, by, most definitely, no one.

I was asked: How do I raise my children? Long ago (or so it seems) my husband and I started socialising them along the lines of "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". So if they do something "wrong" within this framework, a belief system like any other, I just remind them about being nice to others, and remembering that we're all worthy, and things along those lines. It seems to cover most occurrences so far. I remind them of how marvelous they are a lot, say "I love you" constantly and hug them to the point of them saying "get off me Mum!". That encapsulates my child rearing philosophy. I guess I lead by example: my observable behaviour reflects being very patient with myself, and not too hard on my own humanity, and with every apparent other person I encounter, which seems incredibly easy "these days". Mostly, I muddle along as best I can like 99.9% of humanity.

About choice - there is the appearance of choice in day-to-day life, of course, but life is illusory, it's just energy arranged very interestingly, and anything chosen is the same thing - oneness - in yet another fascinating guise.

I don't think there's destiny, because destiny implies time - future - and there is no time, just this, this now, this ever changing now. There can be an unfolding story that appears to validate the idea of destiny, but that yet again is just yet another beautiful and fascinating expression of oneness.

Ambitions come up, just like goals, and are intrinsically fulfilling - that seems the closest way to put it.

Instinct and intuition seem to be more part of the story these days. My poor, beleaguered mind has been let off the hook, by itself, by nothing.

All words fall together to reflect some system of belief, and are always concepts. The real challenge with describing direct, unfettered presence is that it's not a concept, or a feeling, or a state. It encompasses all belief systems, and negates them, and validates them, and is them all, and is none of them. Very tricky.

Oneness is always everything, always already the case even if your mind is in the throes of frantic seeking. Whatever you're doing is the perfect expression, the perfect invitation, as Tony Parsons puts it. There is no utopia but this. There will always be those who work for peace, love and a better world, and those who oppose all that, due probably to separation and fear. It seems it is possible to fall in love with it all. Who falls in love? Love falls in love with itself, I guess.

If I have a message - and I don't - it would be that you, whomever you think you are, however you seem to perceive reality, are beautiful, whole, complete and perfect just as you are. Your ego is beautiful, and the awareness that is everything is beautiful, and you are that awareness, looking lovingly at itself. Reality may be a fragile illusion, but it is a gorgeous, complex, fascinating, engrossing, fulfilling, and fantastic illusion to be enjoyed, and reviled, and felt, and touched, and seen and heard and apprehended by its own very self, and you are that.

Writing this was fun. However, my husband kept coming in and interrupting me. Annoyance arises in awareness! But also tolerance, patience and husband-handling skills. Whatever I'm doing, it is just what must be done. And I'm not doing a thing. What freedom.

I That Am Cruel Am Yet Merciful; I Would Not Have Thee Linger In Thy Pain.

2009-10-23T08:45:00.006+01:00

It lingers, hope. It lingers as much as despair does. The story of hope for a better life and a better world, that the world's story will improve along the lines of less (or no) fear-driven actions and more (or totally) compassion-based actions lingers, even with those who supposedly have no stake in the world's story. The mind needs the story; the personality needs a goal. Very few see this world as utopia. If they do, they are dismissed as deluded or blinkered, or as coming from a place of apathy and privilege. For all of mankind's history - the story of humanity - there has been strife and peace, suffering and redemption. Life, the story of it, is always in balance.

There is no time for the story to unfold, not really. It is always now o'clock. The memories and speculations that make up the story are happening now. There is nowhere to go but here. When that hope - though persistent - and that despair - though recurring - and the thoughts of yesterday and tomorrow - though abiding - are no longer taken for the point of it all, what is left is a boundless now, a spaceless here, full and empty, everything and nothing. You are not separate from what you are seeing, hearing, feeling, touching, even thinking. There is no difference; that is you. You are everything. Perhaps even more importantly, you are everyone. Every person you seem to meet shares the same consciousness. If the self and its concerns are lost, the whole world is gained, by no one. Just like that Jesus dude said.

For Never Anything Can Be Amiss, When Simpleness And Duty Tender It.

2009-10-18T08:29:00.009+01:00

There is nothing, that is not oneness. There is no one, that is not oneness. How can what awareness seems to manifest be wrong? There is nothing wrong. And in that awareness, of neutral, perfect manifestation, lies the attitude that many who seek - and exhort the benefits of - and desperately push enlightenment require. There is both peace and passion in this seeing; and often, there is no desire for it all to change to something better.

Humanity - desperately working for peace, or inciting hatred. Despite the widely varying motivations and personalities, we are all the same. Strip away the belief systems of the mind, look in the mirror and know absolutely that the person seen is just the same as the Taliban member who wakes up in the morning, looks into his bit of mirrored glass and reaches for his turban. That sense of self, of I Exist, of I Am, that seems so singular and special and ours - that consciousness is shared. And simply that is what these words point to. It is tempting put a lot of importance on the thoughts, the story of existence; the people who write about oneness, Advaita, consciousness, awareness, or whatever we're calling it, go to great lengths to try and devalue the mind and the thoughts, and the personality they weave, the personality so often mistaken for that shared consciousness. The story of dispelling all that is the most important story, evidently. "Why are you unhappy? Because 99.9% of everything you think, and everything you do, is for your self, and there isn't one," says Wei Wu Wei. There is a great urge to end the suffering that the misguided attribution of the story equalling the Self apparently causes. There is a lot of energy devoted to insisting that the sense of separation - the effect of this mis-attribution - is incorrect, and not clear seeing of reality. Or, the self and its personality is celebrated, and the oneness of shared consciousness is rejected as too dry and arid; the story of life is treasured, and the tasks presented by life are deeply valued. If we all see clearly our shared consciousness, say some, then we'll be a world healed, working together for a common, loving goal; we will be love in action. Or, say others, if we lose our value of the separate life, we will be passionless, and be unmoved by the plight of mankind, and unmotivated to work for peace, healing and harmony. Or perhaps, say the haters of dispassion, if we lose our personalities and passions, the world will be a dull, saccharine place, full of do-gooders with no hopeless cases to take under their wing, all happy-clappy, touchy-muchy and healy-feely. Bleagh, they say. Where is the wholeness, the interest, the variety, in that?

It is already just as it is. How it might be is speculation happening now. How it has been is memory happening now. It is, was and will be as it must be. All the suffering, war, working to end war, passion to make a positive contribution to society, present awareness uncluttered by believing the thoughts that arise, apathy, hard work -it's all here now. Those thoughts - no matter what they are - are not yours, and every single thought is a gift. Those actions - no matter how well-considered - are not your actions, and every action is an act of worship. The thoughts rejecting or embracing the concepts just read - again, not yours, no matter how involved they seem to be with your personality. There is nothing wrong, not with the most amoral acts, or the understandable resistance to those acts of immorality; nothing wrong with passionate, missionary actions to save the world, and get us all to behave compassionately. Life is, has been, and will always be everything. It is here for no reason other than itself. Those stories, seeming to unfold, are real and unreal, meaningless and meaningful; the bland, passionate, cruel and loving Utopia our separate personalities have been looking for is right here.

Lay Open To My Earthy-Gross Conceit, Smother'd In Errors, Feeble, Shallow, Weak.

2009-10-17T08:05:00.000+01:00

Everything is oneness. Absolutely everything is; there are no mistakes. The most horrific errors, a split-second of poor reflex or a well-considered, but misjudged, decision, even these are not mistakes. The child that runs into the road, hit; the sober drunk that picks up drink and drugs again after many years of abstinence; the inappropriate career chosen, the person married in convenience or pressure rather than love; any of the long list of things we could change, if only we could go back in time; even these are not mistakes. Even the most painful, life-thwarting feelings and urges are not mistakes. Everything unfolds both to no purpose, and to grand purpose, in the context of the story of a life. Life is everything; bliss and despair, pain and great, soaring pleasure. And all of it is bearable. There is suffering, and the end of suffering is so often sought, both by seekers of enlightenment, and most human beings, convinced that the pain is theirs and theirs alone, that pain defines them, that pain is useless, that pain is to be avoided or dispelled. But pain and suffering - some say that suffering is pain + resistance to pain - in the unfolding story, is often very useful. And even if it's not, and all of it is meaningless, and it is seen that whatever seems to be happening is just as it should be - there is nothing wrong with suffering. Perhaps, in the context of a story, structured by systems of belief, organised by the restless mind into some kind of sense, suffering that lingers is not so useful. But suffering, in any story, usually changes; wait around long enough, and everything changes. No matter how involving and intense the story of your life seems to be, that story - those feelings - those events, those others whom you struggle to interact with - they are not your sum total. You are all of it, and none of it; life is its own beneficiary; great pain and delicious pleasure are the same thing. No matter what seems to be happening, even if it seems to be happening to you and you alone, is just what must happen. Your life, with all its resistance, all the wrong thinking, all those errors you wish had never happened, is perfect, blessed and whole. There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong.

And now, a bit of "my" story, which seems to unfold, but doesn't really: I love life. I love it so much, the very appreciation of it floors me. This is in contrast to a dreadful, bleak, lingering suicidal depression that lasted about a year, three years ago. In my story, I would not change that terrible time for anything; it was a privilege to be so vulnerable, and to encounter others in their most human, fragile states. And, in the story, I might not appreciate every little thing the way I seem to now without that period of suffering. But don't think "you" must have such pain to "get" this. Everything is eternity and infinity; it is, whether the mind sees it or not; and "getting" this seems largely seeing that there is no one to get it. Everything is a gift, from nothing, to itself. It is. Here. Now.

"I am in love with Life. As the mountain lake

Which receives many streams And sends forth great rivers, But holds its unknown depths, So is my love.

Calm and clear, as the mountains in the morning Is my thought, Born of love."

J. Krishnamurti, from "From Darkness to Light"

But Then The Mind Much Sufferance Doth O'er Skip, When Grief Hath Mates, And Bearing Fellowship.

2009-10-12T05:51:00.007+01:00

We are never alone. Even the ascetic monk on the proverbial mountain, playing out the story of hermitage and self-denial, is not alone. The drunk in those last, lost stages of active addiction, locked in a filthy room, shades drawn, is not alone, despite the overwhelming feeling of isolation. However we may run, we cannot hide; whatever form the running takes, whatever machinations the mind concocts to be anywhere, anywhen but here and now, there is no escaping this. Mike S has some great thoughts about awakening with others, and how others are necessary to mirror and thus unravel our small ego-self; read some of his concepts here. Yet there's no getting away from others, the many lamps of one light. Try and hide from all that is; it isn't possible. Whatever you do, it is God; whatever you see, it is God; whatever you are, it is God, and so is everything.

There is so much finger-pointing, advice and pointers to whatever it is Reality is supposed to be; so many methods and suggestions, so many ways to get it all right, or all wrong. There are ways to inject meaning into life, ways to potentially change our perception, tasks to complete that will remove every layer of deception, revealing the final and ultimate Truth. Yet this is the final and ultimate truth, just simply this, whatever it is that seems to be, just as it is. You are all you see, you are what makes it all manifest. There is no way to get it wrong. Strip the ego away, or let it thrive; there is no escaping reality. There are no mistakes, so don't reject rejection; do not prefer to have no preferences; do not be displeased by displeasure; and endeavour to not let go of holding on. There is no me that grieves, there is grief. There is no me that is tangled in the senses; there is entanglement. If love and hate are absent, and there is no distinction, heaven and earth are one; if the smallest distinction is made, and you seem the most separate, unenlightened being on Earth, heaven and earth are still one. Oneness does not care if there is separation. Oneness is one; life is always as it is meant to be.

Past Cure I Am, Now Reason Is Past Care, And Frantic-Mad With Evermore Unrest.

2009-10-10T07:36:00.012+01:00

That intense, ravenous longing, that urgent need to see reality somehow differently than what it is, is the seeker's drive. We are all seekers, in one way or another; all activity is a seeking for consciousness - this life, just as it is - or a desire to come home to pure awareness (which can be called unadorned living) without importance placed on the content of life's story. How we want this! It is desired so strongly. And, frustratingly, we are told there is nothing we can do to make it happen. It's God's will, says Ramesh Balsekar; if its meant to happen, it will, and if it's not, it won't, says Stanley Sobottka.

Yet most of the bloggers and writers and teachers that seekers ferret out seem to have the (often only implied) goal of facilitating an awakening, even if it's merely to encourage the seeker to stop seeking, or to see that the personality is not what makes the man. Traditional teachers have many methods of stripping away all Earthly desires; more modern teachers encourage seekers to simply see things as they are, thus letting awareness shine through naturally. Sometimes the only action advocated is to "drop" the personal identity.

Well, how on Earth, or very pointedly how not on Earth, does one "drop" the very thing that does the dropping?

Therein lies the frustration. There is nothing the identity can do to drop itself; anything the persona does reinforces its own existence (and misunderstanding) as the seat of being, rather than being an adjunct, or a convenience. If it's any consolation - and consolation is not necessarily the goal either - "after" this seems to happen, the personal identity just ceases to be so important, and the task at hand is tended to very directly. That inchoate, wistful, painful, often all-consuming longing for things to be somehow different - somehow better - than they are just disappears. There can still be longing, but it is more like longing for the sake of longing; all states, all actions, all feelings, thoughts, plans and goals, exist only for their own sake. But there is no apt description of unfiltered life. It is what we've always done, but have never realised it was so.

Are You A God? Would You Create Me New? Transform Me Then, And To Your Power I'll Yield.

2009-10-04T15:41:00.003+01:00

What could possibly make this more than it is? Why isn't this enough? Clearly what is looked for most often is meaning, and there is nothing wrong with that. Countless dissatisfied souls sit in therapist's offices, or in meditation groups, or at the foot of the guru or the foot of their children's beds, searching for meaning. Perhaps they want a higher purpose than just to earn a living. Maybe they become self-sufficient, or change jobs to one that is of more obvious value to their personal tastes and values. Possibly a complete change is called for; and often, a lessening of anxiety and depression is called for, whether this is accomplished by treating these feelings directly with medication or by taking more control of the story of their life. This is all fine; in fact, it is admirable. But we are constantly imprisoned by the parameters of the person who is depressed, who takes control, or is anxious; the one who feels; the one who the story happens to.

No one is is prison. No one is at the mercy of the circumstances of life. What happens - depression, despair, recovery, redemption - is unimportant; whatever happens, happens, and lessons may be learned or not, and healing might happen - or not. What we are is beyond all that, and is all that; "all that" is here for the hell of it, and the heaven. All that happens is parable; whether it seems an epic allegory or merely notable synchronicity, it hints at the greater possibility. And that possibility is that this is enough. We are boundless, and the happenings flow around the very fact of existence - the one indisputable absolute. Call it awareness, presence or "I Am" (capitalisation optional). It is the one and only thing that cannot be deconstructed or denied.

Let Your Own Discretion Be Your Tutor: Suit The Action To The Word, The Word To The Action.

2009-10-01T11:34:00.004+01:00

"What should I do?" ask so many, many seekers; Andrew asked the question pointedly in the comments section of the last entry. Well, a lot of answers come to mind, none of them particularly useful. Advaita seems to be largely about pointing to the fact that awareness is here, now; that enlightenment, that elusive goal, is always already met. Liberation can never be something that happens in the "future"; all there is, is this: this ever present, ever lasting, timeless moment. It is only ever "now". Now is all we have, all there is. So, logically, liberation, awakening, enlightenment, whatever you care to label it, is always available now. It is, in fact, just awareness; it is the mere perception of whatever it is that's happening. So advaita, or nonduality, is sparse on practice. And it is often pointed out that any practice reinforces the notion that there is some separate entity that can get this. That separate entity - the persona or personality, the ego, Mike, Fatima, Pervez or Barbara, the person that this all seems to happen to - is illusory, and a convenience. What happens, happens, but not "to" anybody. So writers of blogs like this are likely to say that there is nothing you can do. Just look around. Whatever you're doing is the perfect expression of aliveness, oneness, awareness, or whatever we're calling it on a Thursday.

I suppose the only goal behind these words is to point out that everyone is complete and whole and perfect, just as they are. There is not so much the goal of inducing somehow the "ah-ha" moment, when the needs and desires of the persona are eclipsed by the realisation that their heart's desire is, in fact, in everything they touch, think, feel, see, hear, smell and taste - and it always "was". My goal, for whatever reasons of my conditioning, is to point to the beauty of what is, and the wonder that is each of us, just exactly as we are. I'm not fond of people beating themselves up for being human. I'm appalled by the destruction - both of self and of everything near - that self-loathing is the catalyst for. So I gently try to make people see how extraordinary they are, just as they are, by simply telling them this is so.

However, it's also the case that being appalled by destruction doesn't mean that it's not necessary. The other goal I seem to have is to merely describe balance: in duality, which is simply awareness taking a look at itself, there must be depression for happiness, despair for joy, destruction for creation, subject for object, war for peace. So I point out that there is always balance, and there is no utopia but this.

So, bearing all this in mind, the answer to the question "what should I do?" is: do exactly what you are doing. You can't get it wrong. If the thought comes up to join a meditation group, or embark on some austere and fruitful Eastern-based spiritual practices, by all means do so. If Byron Katie's The Work seems to beckon, please embark on that journey. If A Course In Miracles seems to fit your particular conditioning, get stuck in. However, perhaps the most helpful advice - if, indeed, there is any - is to give up. Just take the whole enlightenment search and stick it up the collective Universe's butt. Read everything, go to satsangs, get frantic with it, and then get disgusted and throw the whole thing out the Great Cosmic Window. The Buddha similarly gave up; when the mind stops its frenzied quest to annihilate itself, the obvious can shine through. No matter what you are doing, it is eternal and infinite. No matter how small you seem to be, you are eternal and infinite, too. Do everything; do nothing; it is all just as it must be.

And For My Soul, What Can It Do To That, Being A Thing Immortal As Itself?

2009-09-30T13:23:00.006+01:00

How can there be anything but this? I know there are thoughts and feelings, children and bill collectors, bosses and boyfriends that make the story in time seem absolutely real. But even the poor, beleaguered, overworked mind can just about grasp no time. All there ever is, is this ever present moment; and in that - this -what is present reality for every individual - there lies the key to the mystery. There lies the secret of man's immortality; the only thing that really exists is now, here. There is no beginning or end to this. Time is a mechanism by which oneness can enjoy and merely be aware of itself; a means by which our senses and are bodies have some voice, a tool so that nothingness can be something, for the mere pleasure of pure existence. If the mind is seemingly not engaged, as is what happens in meditation, perhaps timelessness can be more obvious. But such quieting of the mind is not necessary, although pleasant. Whatever it is that seems to unfold, is the perfect unfolding, the best possible story. When the person it all seems to happen to is no longer the be-all and end-all, the story may indeed seem more efficient, or blissful, or go more smoothly; but there are no guarantees. The story may still be painful, but the pain may be seen as life in the front line, or simply balance; yet again, there is no certainty. There is no better way than the way that is. Everything you have ever been looking for is staring you in the face; and what you have been looking for is what looks.

Thou Art A Soul In Bliss; But I Am Bound Upon A Wheel Of Fire.

2009-09-28T13:06:00.000+01:00

Here's a clip of Pamela Wilson, who speaks lowly and slowly and is obviously totally spiritual, talking about "coming home". The story she tells of seeing Yo Yo Ma doing a duet with a bird is a great one. I suppose what's she's talking about could possibly be called "The Zone". We've hopefully all been in The Zone at least once, and it rocks; it is life, fitting like a custom-made glove. The Zone can be described as being naturally hyper-aware, effortlessly interacting with great efficiency and creativity with whatever is happening - just going with it - with no resistance or apparent separation, and very little thought. It's an admirable state, and one probably worth cultivating, if cultivating it is indeed possible.

Well, I take no issue with Pamela Wilson no matter how veggie and into meditation she may be. However, it's all The Zone. It's tempting to berate ourselves every time we seem to plod along in our story, full of resistance and resentment, separate above all, wishing things were different than they are. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what twists and turns the story takes, or how completely absorbing the world of the separate, disconsolate, discontented mind may seem. It's all The Zone; whatever it is, is oneness in the fascinating and multifaceted guise of separation. Oneness doesn't care if there is apparent separation. Oneness is, whether it is appreciated (by itself) or not. So don't despair of never reaching some higher plane, some "better" state of being; or do despair, if despair is what is there. In the story, whatever seems to be will surely change. Whatever this is, it is wholeness, perfection, The Zone; and you are whole, complete and perfect just as you are, for you are The Zone. You can't be anything else. You are.

Time Is Their Master, And, When They See Time, They'll Go Or Come.

2009-09-14T11:50:00.003+01:00

Life, the appearance, or whatever we're calling it today, is often full of surprises. It has the most marvelous, unpredictable twists and turns. The "fruits of wisdom" often become available in life-stories of struggle, suffering and redemption. Life, just as it is presented, in its ultimate unpredictability, will often carry with it intrinsically the practices that bear the fruits of wisdom; self-questioning, clearing house, and accepting what is without needing to change it or run away from it, to name a few. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,/Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." This phrase conveys the multifariousness, the infinite possibility of what is. Even a grounded common sense informs us that we often don't know what is "good" for us, or how any particular circumstance will turn out; anything might happen. And does. Including enlightenment, or whatever we're calling it today, "happening" for a devoted traditional practitioner, or WHAMMO! It hits out of the blue to someone who was never even a spiritual seeker.

The stories unfold on the crux of a twinkling of energy; all those thoughts and feelings that string the thing together - just firing neurons, neurons composed of atomic nothingness. I know there are children and bill collectors, bosses and boyfriends, crushing guilt and enormous responsibility, or great joy and fulfillment that make the story in time seem absolutely real. But even the poor, beleaguered, overworked mind can just about grasp "no time". All there ever is, is this ever present moment; and in that - this - what is present reality for every individual - there lies the key to the mystery. There lies the secret to man's immortality; the only thing that really exists is now, here. There is no beginning or end to this. Time is a mechanism by which oneness can enjoy, or merely be aware of itself; a means by which our senses and bodies have some voice and movement, a tool so that nothingness can be something, for the mere pleasure and pain of pure existence. If the mind is seemingly not engaged, as is what can happen in meditation, perhaps timelessness is more obvious. But such quieting of the mind is not necessary. There is nothing other than wholeness, completeness, oneness, here and now, "always". There is nothing to get "in the future". This is everything, right here, right now. Do nothing, and you are what you are, which is everything. Or do whatever seems like the next correct step, the next well-pondered decision. It doesn't matter. There are no mistakes. There is room for it all. There must be; it is.

Nay, An A' Do Nothing But Speak Nothing, A' Shall Be Nothing Here.

2009-09-13T08:35:00.004+01:00

What Should I Do?

Make the fine mind dull.
Do not ask questions more;
For questions blind the mind,
A willing whore,

To any formula of final rest.
The place, the answer, wrought of genius games;
A thrilling meadow of the sunlit quest,
Where senseless sanity will soothe and soar.

Pry the hard heart wide.
Reject not any thing.
For hatred kills, divides.
So, hastening,

Move in the gentle grace of needless care.
The purposeful yet natural way of love;
A constant giving paean of love's fare,
Where all-inclusiveness will Zion bring.

Do nothing at all.
Surrender treasured goal;
For thoughts and actions, as they are,
Are whole,

And flow around the center of all lives.
This is the place, the goal wrought of itself.
All, as it is, is bounty, and it thrives,
With or without the mind and heart and soul.

S. Foxton 2009.

Describe Adonis, And The Counterfeit Is Poorly Imitated After You.

2009-09-06T07:13:00.003+01:00

No words or concepts can capture this, whatever it is we're attempting to describe. There is no true path to it. There is no perfect pointer. Labeling it "unconditional love, that accepts all and cannot reject itself" or "the only constant, awareness, the center around which life flows" is unimportant. There is no manual that describes the perfect way to be. Words describing immediate, direct experience, where there is no doer, only what is done, are still a description. Whether the ego is rejected, or seen through and embraced, doesn't matter. Whether frantic seekers "get this" or not matters not; if not getting it is what is, that is what is. Perhaps meditation is the key, and the drooping seeker finally rests in awareness, directly and flawlessly, just pure being. That may be the goal, but it is no better or worse than any other. Whether the conditioning of the mind/body is broken down and dissected and finally defeated, or whether that conditioning is seen as the character, choiceless and not needing any meddling with - neither of these is the goal; or perhaps, both of them are. Whatever it is, it is this. Whatever this is, it is. Life is its own purpose, and the appearance of life is simply what is seems to be, whatever that is. There's no way to get it wrong; there's no way to get it right. Whatever your responses or reactions seem to be, they are perfect. No matter how definitively absolute awareness is described, it is nothing more nor less than this; and even such simplicity is only a description. There is nobody that needs to "awaken". We are all "awake", whether it is seen as "there is no one", or whether it is seen as "there is only love"; whether it is insisted upon that awakening can never occur without others, or that awakening must occur in solitude; whether a lucid life, seen through as a dream, is taken hold of and lived to the fullest, or whether a complete surrender happens and the doer is taken for a wild ride, in free-fall. It is all just as it is.

And Therefore Is Love Said To Be A Child, Because In Choice He Is So Oft Beguiled.

2009-08-30T08:11:00.005+01:00

The ego, said a friend of mine once, is like an abandoned child, embraced again when it is seen that ego is this too. There is nothing wrong with your reactions and responses. There is absolutely no choice; the paradox of apparent choice, even carefully worked out decisions, gravely considered and deliberately executed, are the actions of a life lived. In the story of awakening - no more nor less important than any other story - this paradox is often the last thing the mind has trouble with, that it wrestles with, grapples with, frets over, and cannot make head nor tail of. Perhaps oneness is seen, and even understood a bit by the overtaxed and overvalued mind. Then why is the day-to-day, the mundane, the story of life dependent on time - why does that seem to still go on? Why do we encourage our children to get a good education and fulfill their potential if fulfillment is truly this, just what exists, right now? Why do we continue to sort out the admin of life, pay parking tickets, work for the mortgage or rent, question the systems of governance and do our best to make the world a better place, if the world is truly perfect as it is? Why is the story - duality - apparently still bought into? Why do we groom ourselves and educate ourselves and volunteer our time and try very hard to do the next right thing if there is nothing wrong with us? Why do we still meditate, pray to some deity outside ourselves, or have a heartfelt conversation with a troubled friend, if there is no state of mind or action better or worse than any other? Why don't we - as expected, as anticipated when awakening was sought - turn away from all this, and live only in this everlasting moment, completely unconcerned with the machinations of life, and the comforts of the material world? Why is it not turned away from, why does it not hold no appeal whatsoever?

Because there is no choice. You do not choose what is chosen. You do not do what is done. This is the everlasting moment, whether it is apprehended or not. So whatever it is, it is; there is never any say in it; in this choicelessness is liberation. Gather up the ego-child and give him a hug.

Why Either Were You Ignorant To See't, Or, Seeing It, Of Such Childish Friendliness To Yield Your Voices?

2009-08-26T07:41:00.009+01:00

Life flows by the center, or it seems to; it only ever did. This is that ever. The person it all seems to happen to, perhaps constructed so lovingly, or perhaps wrought in a furnace of anger and fear and hot confusion, that person, that construct, that conditioning, can slip away - or seem to - and be embraced and accepted and loved. Whoever you are, however you are understood, whatever poignancies arise for the person it all seems to effect and that affects others; wherever you are in your story, however inadequate the construct seems, or however powerful and in charge of it all you seem to be - you are perfect, complete and whole, just as you are. And although there is no formula, no road map, no proscribed handbook detailing How To Live the Perfect Life or How to Be the Perfect Human, there is this: compassion. Gentleness. What can arise is not judging yourself - your character - and others for being human. This isn't the goal, but when there is no one, or the self that seems to operate in the world is not so despotic, then a sense of compassion often seems to arise. "It's all about love:" so many non-duality writers are fond of this pointer. In fact, it's all love. All of life, the cosmos, our friends and family, war torn nations afar or in our back yard, rage and murderous anger, irrational self-righteousness, fear and its destructive, protective actions - all of it - is love manifest. You are that love. Completely, flawlessly, despite apparent flaws. The movement of life flows by, in perfection; you never move or change, and you are the apparent flow. When this is seen, compassion is likely, in any story that seems to unfold.

Best State, Contentless, Hath A Distracted And Most Wretched Being, Worse Than The Worst, Content.

2009-08-21T06:43:00.007+01:00

What confusion, what bedlam, the mind can generate. There may be nothing wrong with it, but feeling uncomfortable comes with it some survival-driven urge to feel better. Pain is there, "they" say, to tell you that something is wrong; something being wrong is only valid in the philosophy that life must be maintained at all costs - organic life - and it is a philosophy and code of conduct easy to understand, borne of the evolutionary programming to survive, and create more organic life. So mankind struggles and survives, driven both by the questioning mind and the unquestioning body, the mind often questioning the simple drive to live right out of existence. Push and pull, tug and tussle, conflicts arise, so many of them contained within the small vessel of the individual, even before the handy conflicts between individuals get a chance to rev up.

So what is the goal in all this? What is the point? The message is there is no point; no answers, no questions, and no one who needs them. Whatever happens is the point, or whatever appears to happen. If what happens is a serene existence - the goal of many a seeker - then that is what is happening. Perhaps, in that story, there is a pining for the thrust and pull and challenge of the human condition, lost now in a haze of love; the moral of many stories of redemption and dreams realised, is that the psyche can still itch to have a challenge to pursue. Challenges can arise, no matter how fulfilled and content the protagonist in the story is. Resting forever in awareness, the mind will whisper, sounds boring. Perhaps it is, but it is likely that, without much claiming or discontent arising, the boundlessness of existence can be more obvious. The story of your life is not "just" a story. Contained in every apparent happening is the wholeness of what is; and whether it is seen or not, matters not. Life as it is lived, however that is, is the perfect expression, the parable of what is so simple it cannot be described. Life moves around the center, flows by, and the center never changes. The center, awareness, oneness, the absolute, I Am, whatever the label, is what both seeks and hides behind the seeking. There is not much in the story, the strand of cause and effect, that can illuminate the absolute, although it is in the story that so many look for it. It is what makes the story possible, and what is the story, and what is everything. So don't worry about an "enlightened" life being boring; don't hesitate to seek for fear of what is finally found may not be the ideal. There is nothing to find; it was never lost; and all that bedlam of the mind is just as beautiful an expression of it as anything that seems to be.

A Pack of Sorrows Which Would Press You Down, Being Unprevented, To Your Timeless Grave.

2009-08-18T06:29:00.007+01:00

It's all very well, bandying about concepts or pointers or what have you along the lines of "there are no questions, there are no answers." So there aren't. What's left, when all the extra stuff of humanity is stripped away, conceptually or otherwise, is one, or presence, or the still source, or whatever we're calling it today. (I'm pretty keen on calling it Fred for awhile and seeing if that pointer moves "anyone". However, it might be confusing for the Freds of the world.) Fair enough if you've surfed and ended up here, or on any of these nonduality websites, a "spiritual seeker", having a moment of existential angst, doing that "what's it all about" thingy that has caused so much cosmic hand-wringing; these concepts are more or less what you expect. There are a lot of to-the-point pointers around, lots of good stuff about "you are the center, and life flows around you", or "how can 'awakening' possibly be something in the future, all is oneness, complete and whole as it is, so seek what is, right now"; or "you are all you see, feel, hear, touch, smell, taste and think," and don't forget "my" favourite: "nothing exists, despite appearances." Then some more concepts can fly about, stuff about the nature of the brain, the illusory essence of reality, just electrical impulses, what seems so solid isn't there at all, the very nature of matter itself seems, scientifically, a nature of nothingness, whose physics change when apparently observed (by itself). And we can marvel, and sort of get it, even the brain gets it, then it somehow becomes clear there is nothing to get. Whatever's been happening is all there is, and it's "been" that way "all along". So no questions, no answers, just the miracle of existence, lived.

But if someone surfs up to this website, or another similar one, and sees concepts like "there are no questions, there are no answers," they might get upset if they're not a typical "spiritual seeker". If they're an educator, they might get angry - it's difficult enough to motivate young people into the sciences, there is a shortage of scientists as it is; we certainly don't need anyone spouting off metaphysically about no questions and no answers! Happily, these websites are on the fringe, and the concepts they espouse are not probably going to take the world by storm; there is no need. Anyone concerned with the apathetic tendencies of humanity, another fruit of fear, will be outraged that to read of the idea that there is nothing wrong with suffering, taking that to mean that the oppressed should be left to their fate, with no intervention, or that the criminal should be unpunished, or that the heinous deed should be sympathised with. But any outraged reader is another step of the dance. So is the criminal, and the mercenary; so are the misguided enforcers of a limited brand of righteousness. Yet so is the healer, so is the red cross worker, so is Abdul Sattar Edhi and all the selfless, tireless workers for the dignity of humanity; they wouldn't be swayed by the ambivalent musings of some enlightenment devotee. Their role in the dance is clear. Anyone concerned that the noblest, best tendencies of humanity might be diluted by some fatalism or solipsism, some surrender that suggests that since nothing can be done, nothing should be done, perhaps may rest assured that each urge must have its opposite to even exist. Even those who fear the machinations of some elusive Illuminati, forever distracting us-we, the herd of common humanity-from holding any real power over our lives, they can go on with their crusade for societal freedom. Nothing changes, yet everything changes. There is nothing to be done, yet we will be lived. There is no separate entity, some little me or you, that can claim anything, though claiming may stridently arise. Everything ever sought, is right here, and what is sought is what seeks, always eluding any pat description. Revel in it.

It Prefers Itself And Leaves Unquestion'd Matters Of Needful Value.

2009-08-11T11:06:00.004+01:00

There can be phenonmenon that seem to reinforce oneness, yet within those phenonmenon is always the story of duality trying to apprehend the source. It is sometimes easy to perceive that what is in one's field of vision occupies no space; it is, after all, an image in your brain, in your head, which is yet another image when a mirror or reflective surface appears. What feels so solid is just information, interpreted by the computer of the brain. And so you might wonder around with this new perception, and find it is accompanied by a feeling of great revelation and freedom; the illusory nature of reality is, at last, revealed; we are nothing but some fleeting energy, finding a temporary construct; and that goes for the stars, all the distant galaxies, even an achingly beautiful nebula. Space itself, you realise, occupies no space. That thing about nothing existing finally comes a bit clearer.

There is a unbridled feeling of awe in it, the tenuous connection that the little self has to the vastness of everything, revealed to be nothing. There is no reason to try to explain or describe it; it eludes all containment in concept, and the very nature of the revelation puts paid to any questioning or need for answers: there is truly no one who needs answers, there are no answers, no questions. Whatever you label your perceived scrap of humanity, it is the light and the window, it is everything and nothing, not a piece or a part, but all of it. For there is only one, and that is you, complete, whole and brilliant, whether there seem to be doubts or questions, bliss or sorrow, answers or despair, simplicity or chaos, or whatever it is that seems to be.

One Touch Of Nature Makes The Whole World Kin.

2009-07-31T07:31:00.003+01:00

You are whole, complete, and beautiful, just as you are. The ins and outs and ups and downs of the story of your life are but a tiny part of what you are. You are the light that lets the story project; you are the timeless, infinite presence that mysteriously conjures something of nothing. You know this; you are this. Everything you see, hear, feel, touch, taste, smell and think is you; you are what you apprehend; the little construct usually labeled "you" is just a convenience. No one can tell you that you are less than infinite, less than complete, less than perfect; you are love itself, playing at duality, delighting in existence for its own sake. Love is you, and you are everything.

Words are written, no one prints them out. No one will be printing for awhile, as apparently, no one is going camping for ten days, in the story that seems to unfold at any rate! Nothing can go wrong in the "meantime," as nothing is happening; enjoy the appearance in my more-obvious-than-usual absence.

Love, Suzanne