Archive | September, 2014

tango in the tangible

29 Sep

Money used to show up in statements, digits printed out.

Seems it’s not in a box behind the counter at the bank.

Who is using that money?

And in what way?

Do I like the fund, the group, the digi-dollar demons?

It is me who built matrices within the matrices

and swallowed blue pills for years.

On the board, now,

I desire not to lord

but to move freely from square to square,

or end to end as I please.

The money system houses, hotels, whole blocks are pretend today.

I missed the freedom that I knew was mine,

so I took the bank man out for tea;

turns out he agrees with me.

I traded my digi-world for matter,

for things that I can touch and

can float on water.

I’m a thimble, a shoe, a cannon;

now you see me, now I’m gone.

I traded in my metal piece

for me.

This just in:

I’m opening up a school,

where everyone can teach –

Now employing for real jobs:

poets,

players,

collagers,

paper cutting pasters,

breathers,

getting lost on purposers,

laughers.

Enroll now for the seminar on napping;

don’t miss the power shifts we yield.

Join me for these workshops:

Beach Walking,

Dead Man’s Float,

Listening to Raindrops,

Petting Cats,

Blowing Thoughts and Thoughts about Thoughts out the Window,

Bubble Wand Ceremonies,

Advanced Staring into Space.

Survival: just how do we get the flow that we want?

How can we flow within the necessities?

some days as simple as:

sing while folding laundry,

dance while prepping dinner,

yoga lunge to clean the shower,

whistle while at the meeting,

until we are advanced, and can

clean our insides out with light,

move Mt. Mitchell with a glance.

 

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giant babies in the sky

20 Sep

Giant Baby

 

There seems to be spontaneous, helpful guidance that comes from goodness knows where to show us again and again that there is a way to view this world and the things that happen in it as nothing but  spiritual encounters.

Sometimes, when I am checking out from a store, I look around and instead of shoppers, all I see are beings –  all the souls who agreed to meet me here.  When I fly on an airplane, I can feel like I am measuring the volume of soul weight all around my seat.  Even if I am home alone, I feel like I have a preordained date to meet some other part of me.

Early to class one day, I was starting the computer, going over the lesson, getting ready; I was in a get up, drive to school, get to work mode;  I was not in a spiritual mindset.  I was just going to teach a lesson to people in seats.  I stopped getting ready with all the stuff of 3D life and looked around.

As I focused on each empty desk, I could see the student in his or her usual appearance who usually sat there, and I nodded to him or her in my mind, one by one, recognizing the agreement we had, to meet here in this classroom, to learn a particular subject, yes, but more than that, I could see that we had a larger interaction.

A vision came where I saw myself growing outside my  boundaries with each student, one at a time.  We expanded out; we were so large  that our heads were meeting above the atmosphere of earth.  There we were, large Sumo babies, beyond words, exchanging our agreement together in the mystery of space.

This strange exercise took me out of the planning mind and into an awareness of my spiritual agreement to each student.  As I  can see that we meet here person to person in the classroom, I am also helped to  recognize each student’s  larger being which helps me to see innate value in each one.  We have agreed together to do work  that may resemble an English course, but in reality, we are doing  spiritual work together.

This ongoing vision or space travel helps me also to see our equality.  We are students and a teacher playing roles, but I can see that we are, each one of us, student and teacher both, on equal footing, overall,  tourists together on this planet, signing on for experiences.

Now, when I get lost in the minutia of lessons or caught in the frustration of inattention, I try to jump to the vision of who we really are; sometimes  I can shift my perspective to the stratosphere and return again with a new, spiritual lens prescription.  

Yes, you have a comma splice here, but wow, just look what a powerful being you are; look at what potential lies within you; try using a semicolon and breathing in some space dust.

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I have lost my mind

18 Sep

you are welcome to join me.

lost my mind

i’ve lost my mind.

Stepping outside

the lines

i am

that i drew myself;

who knows that

the ground is not lava

but ground,

the alligator is not hungry,

the bear just needed a scratch behind his ears?

The chasm has iced over

for an easy crossing.

Tomorrow the paddy wagon may come –

but I will be

strutting away

measuring the strength of my new step.

I meet your eyes –

you can frown

or grin back at me,  either way –

not knowing what is coming

is what makes

it all so fun.

Take a helium hit

from my pipe,

explode out the crown,

with no worry

for the tax man’s

comings and goings

counting out Caesar’s share,

now that you know money

is like weather.

When you and I can enjoy

the rain

the sun

the blustery afternoon,

so many beasts curl up in our laps,

just looking for some rest.

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this section of the stream

5 Sep

alone

Charlotte by Aufzehengehen

I have balanced between my daughters’ needs and my own every day for the past 19 years; always, they needed to be a constant front and center consideration.  This slowing section of the stream has been a while in coming, it seems helpful for me to acknowledge.  Years I fantasized about a little more mental space, a bit more quiet, more individual freedom.  But now, as what I imagined for years is being given back to me in small increments, I am at a choice point.  I am resisting a knee-jerk impulse to fill space up with anything not worthy of my time or focus.

Stillness is a gift that wants to be opened.

There are voices that say, get moving, make something happen, change things up, you are a nobody choosing to do  so so much alone.   These voices make me want to jump out of the raft and start kicking – maybe I even want to  buy an outboard motor to blast through this part of the river.

I do not silence these voices, I do not call them silly;  I am giving them space to fluster about. When they quiet down, I point out the beauty in the trees on the bank, the water birds standing watch, I am encouraging a long look at the clouds, I am saying to them gently, there is nothing you can miss out on.  You have worked hard to clear yourself up for this space, now lie in it, bask in it.  Do not get up do not rush on do not paddle down to some rapids of your own making.  Life as you want it cannot leave you behind.

The stillness has me loving my own company.  I like how little I make myself make small talk.  I know my story, so I do not have to repeat it.   I love the lack of explanation needed to enjoy a walk in nature with just me.  I listen to girls as they come and go.  I nod.  They want to know I am here, the jumping off point to which they return, again and again.  While I enjoy their presence, I do not demand their company.  I give them my full attention, when they stop by.

Last weekend, I almost stepped on a snake as I was walking a sunny path at an old rice field.  The silence and stillness indwelling in me allowed me to  hover mid step and turn on a dime to give him space.  I retreated without worry of threat, and he did too; he was a good 5 feet long.  He slowly made his way across the path into the shady woods, without worry or hurry.  We watched each other.   I’ve been trying to identify him with no luck online, though I know he had no rattlers to shake.

I love this part of my little life path.  I am in no hurry, though a million concerns lie and wait about my future.  I am holding still, trying or rather flowing into a new way of existing in trust in beauty in silence in stillness, allowing  the clarity to come before I make a move.

I chose to re-listen to one of Neil Kramer’s great Roamcasts  with my spaciousness today – randomly selected – and I got a familiar overlapping (around the 18:29 mark) with the place in the stream in which I find myself trying to describe here:  http://neilkramer.com/roamcast-6-unmaking-empire.html  :  then NK posts a beautiful piece of  Hermit art…wink wink nudge nudge – hi ho, off to my cave I go…

hermit cave

 

Moritz von Schwind (1804–1871) painting, A Player With A Hermit

In contrast, however, my bedside dream journal is full of my ex-spouse.  Perhaps I am working through in the night what seems a non-issue in the day.  I feel at peace with those 20 plus years, accountable for my part in the learning, yet in my dream last night I stole his new RV to much condemnation of everyone in the dream world; the more I tried to justify, the more alone and misunderstood I felt.  I set off on my own, on foot, after I was unable to turn the headlights on and got tracked down.  The lone journey on foot seems apropos for where I am.

Ah, the journey.  We all have them.  7 billion plus pairs of eyes. Every night, 7 billion plus dream  bubbles floating up from planet earth – infinity all the way up and all the way down; how many lives have I lived?  Ultimate freedom feels mine – any choice – any potential playing out – and I am just one potentiality at a time, slowed down light so I can enjoy it as it happens.

 

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