http://www.transmutationmovie.com/#about-2
I know anything that reminds me, quickly, of being alive, in the moment, open, awake, still and ready, is a very good thing to bookmark. Our eyes are that camera. The rising steam from a cup of tea is just for us, the dew on the grass, our tennis shoes in the sand, right now to observe and allow ——– all experiential happenings bring us back to mystery.
The crispy shells of the rice stalks
stir up
in the breeze,
murmuring as I pass by.
These tall brown ancestors of last year’s crop
stand by to guide the green shoots rising up –
I listen to the rustling
of a whole tribe –
I am back and they remember me.
I am spending so much time alone
I am learning to hear
way down
for the way
that I am one
yet integral –
all alone, so far away,
yet never by myself,
except when I turn on
the radio of my thoughts
and forget even where I am.
The only togetherness
I long for is this oneness
and I wish to only be
near another
who is listening in this way
to the wind, the pattern in the crickets
as they turn on one by one at dusk.
It is enough to know the gift of aloneness;
it is enough to measure my days
in ways
that suit the sun
the wind
the needs
of no one –
so quietly
strutting
along
in the whole wide world
of me.
The bell of truth will never stop ringing.
I may try to silence it, hanging out where I hear no truth, trying to mingle and fit in, but the authentic self will never let me settle for less than what is real – BUT real is strange.
Real can look so many different ways – real can look the exact opposite of what was expected or wanted. The me who went to the party and met the expectations looked more the part. I’m addressing that one. Nope. Not it, not for you.
Praying certain prayers, signing up for the truth at all costs, handing over the reigns to the ineffable, brings about a certain intensity. The one who makes this prayer finds herself first in line for the ride that starts at the mouth of a dark cave with an imperceptible track, which starts out with a stomach dropping descent – which would be exciting if it didn’t look and feel so much like death.
My path doesn’t let me hide in my bed, for long. My trajectory doesn’t allow me to tie security down or live a life for safe keeping – it allows the reality of what naturally unfolds to rule – which might mean giving away my last dollar, or giving up the dream of what I thought would happen, or standing at the fancy party unavoidably in dirty, inappropriate clothes, sneezing embarrassingly in public so the woman next to me can hand me a tissue, crying in empathy or standing open yet unmoved.
This path might give me a million dollar house and have the wind carry it down into a gaping abyss the very next second. There is not a way to keep all safe, to bank it away, to know what is next. I cannot know. Rhyme nor reason cannot be had.
To not know what is next is the truth for everyone – but there are certain ways of being that seem to shield one from that reality. Uncertainty will visit everyone, nevertheless. For those involved in the reckless signing over of the control, there is a flow found in stepping into the great unknowing in every minute.
I woke this morning to find that my college roommate has cashed her chips in for this life. She had a series of events in a short time that caused her to employ her human right for self-determination, and now she is gone. I send her and her family love and peace beyond what seems possible to muster, beyond the boundaries so seemingly solid on this locked-down earth.
Defining of what is good and what is bad is way beyond my skill level.
The old buddhist teaching about the farmer and his horse comes to mind; We’ll see is always the clear view of the swings of good and bad fortune.
Who can ever really know anything at all, with certainty? Isn’t there great freedom in this not knowing? Do you ever meet anyone along the way who looks you dead in the eye, full tilt into the I don’t know, one who is more enticing than the ones who think they know, the accredited, the acclaimed?
I would like to meet you in courageous unknowing!
Moved the boat today –
close by,
yet again
life is viewed from a new angle,
more open water, more wind.
Remoteness brings beauty –
inner to outer lane.
My daily doing is now
walk walk walking the body
along long dock fingers
along mud flats
along some Sunfishes at the ready for sailing school
all along I’m freebasing salt air, shameless.
. Along this way I will mark the moon in all phases
and planes making hazes –
dogs barking
cats watching, curled up by rosemary plants –
rolling carts, abandoned for now
past stranger neighbors
who sometimes wave and say hello
some even grin,
washing decks,
sunning, drinking,
standing by children decked out with floating systems.
A British couple residing in the Caymens check in today,
the first ones at the new slip,
arriving later than expected after leaving the hospital,
a sudden urinary infection,
still game for walking walking walking, full of good cheer.
The wind picks up and getting on and off
now a long leg scissor spread over water.
I worry,
but she says,
what is the worse that could happen?
We get wet?
I love this one who sees such circumstances
and lightly goes along – indeed.
Nothing is so bad unless you make it so.
In fact, in contrast, so very much is so very good.
Life as Improv 