A Selection of True Awakening Experiences Part II

13 Feb

When beautiful Barbara asked if I wanted to participate in A Selection of True Awakening Experiences Part II,   I took a few days to think if I could participate because the flow is especially pressing to me right now, and writing at all, let alone reading others, has gone to the side.  I am teaching many classes which require lots of grading, so taking time for anything beyond eating, sleeping, and brief, brisk walks is rationed.  To have tasks that require my full focus is just what is needed now, because this is what is happening.  This squeezing  will perhaps bring me awareness that l need to transition to something new that leaves more open spaces for body and mind.  Or perhaps I will be able to continue to find the spaciousness of opening as needed within a challenging flow of time.  As this post is due today, I wake again at 3 AM, with a desire to write again, just in time.

I thank Barbara, who gives space for words and a place for connecting back during these February days.

Where I find myself now:

All instants are opportunity for returning to me, again and again,

second by second.

Who is this me I am returning to?

Good question.  That is the one I ask.  Who is the me I am returning to?  The non dual teachings are the ones speaking to me now.  Who is the one observing the one thinking?  The more I return to the presence the less the attention lost in the game feels okay.  Returning home becomes a known and effective possibility, even when I think I am drowning or being blown about in this life storm.

What does this observing look like in real life?

An example, one morning, as I was driving and thinking worry thoughts  about my daughter, (lost in an idea I had that moment about who I am in relation to my role as “mother”), I got on a bridge that does not lead to my workplace.  There was no turning about on the bridge, of course, so I had to carry on the road until I could do a u-turn on the other side.  My life choice to get lost in thoughts while driving forces me to WAKE UP!  One moment I was lost in worry, the next moment I was back in the present moment, on a road that forced me to return.   No curse words were uttered; there was no worry of a late arrival.  This wandering girl is loved in her lost moments.  The second I missed my turn and realized there was no way but to go forward over the bridge, I was offered many long views of water meeting ocean, the light and fog mixing to a rapturous view that was invisible a moment before.   I can, in an instant, return to being bathed in the morning light.

The world  says to me “be here;”  every road leads back to me.

When I am hurrying, confused, thinking that something is wrong, I am gone for seconds, moments, hours, sometimes.  But the returning is becoming more the normal.  The space of no thoughts, no agenda, no worry is often steady.  Joy.   The outer world dances with me – and my flow is as easy as what (and who) appear next.

My thoughts lost are mirrored to me with such compassion.  The bridge which takes me far from my destination, brings me back again.  My thoughts play back to me on the stage of the world.

The title Life as Improv becomes an ever more real instant to instant thing.  I can go about as the perceiver who meets even old friends without an idea of how the moment will unfold.

Who is appearing on my stage right now?

You.

 

I can see and feel your shifts

as subtle as snow’s first flakes, as dramatic as seizures.

You are me, I see, as you pass by,

your face, your expression, my mirrored image.

I feel your heart squeeze and know not the cause

but it is my heart, too.

Better with no words-

Better quiet now,

but instead it can be still loud, at times — as the thoughts built towers yesterday and now towers fall, regularly.

There is still the demolition, my house is still falling down.

Everyday I get to tear down another idea, closer and closer to the invisible veil.

I’m in the dungeon shining light into the corners

where the hidden dust of old ideas needs sweeping.

But I am happy to report,

the air has lost its smell –

and god willing I will build no more towers.

I  will not build new religions for the key that opens my door today.

I am comfortable in huts.

I will ever be a nomad,

even if I stay in one spot.

Beginning again again, each day,

do I see the flawless avocado for my toast?

Do I savor tea as it is sipped;

do I meet you with no yesterday story of me?

My today is frighteningly simple, even in this busy time,

as I’ve lost my yearning for most things.  The middle path was not a distant philosophy but a real clearing out and daily practice.  Now the subtlety of  desire and aversion becomes apparent – the consumptions of body and mind, clear.  The addictions of the subtlest nature are rooting out and getting dropped bit by bit.

Awakening is a heavy word – to me it is just the beginning, one dawn at the start of many days.

In vigilance and joy, driving to work, talking to students, juggling chores, buried in all the paperwork that life generates, losing my focus yet gaining it again, with less and less time in between…

remembering myself

to be

water

who doesn’t need instructions to flow

down to the sea.

Up tomorrow:  Brian at  middle pane

 

19 Responses to “A Selection of True Awakening Experiences Part II”

  1. David Kanigan February 13, 2016 at 10:20 am #

    Beautiful.

  2. Barbara Franken February 13, 2016 at 2:06 pm #

    Margo thanks so much for finding time and space to show us a glimpse of your world… a world of no judgement, only flow, allowing two worlds to merge together even though it’s not easy… You live with ease and grace. You are such a bright and shining star that continue to inspire us all. Love to you X barbara

    • marga t. February 14, 2016 at 2:05 pm #

      Barbara, thank you for not only your kind word, but also for your fresh and energetic spirit, making space for sharing upon this transient stage of now!
      xo! marga

      • Barbara Franken February 19, 2016 at 5:42 pm #

        It’s all happening now and the more stories to inspire others to choose for love, for themself than the fear and despair… the better. Thank you dear refreshing friends of mine, love Barbara

  3. smilecalm February 13, 2016 at 3:33 pm #

    i’m glad you
    are there
    and it makes
    me less
    worried 🙂

    • marga t. February 14, 2016 at 2:04 pm #

      Your beginners’ mind
      finds the things
      that make me smile.
      A gift that is!

  4. Hariod Brawn February 13, 2016 at 4:15 pm #

    H ❤

  5. melinda blair February 14, 2016 at 4:24 am #

    Hi Margo… Lovely to receive your writing in my inbox today. It was like reading my own experience. Blessing to you in yours/mine/ours. Much love Mx

    • marga t. February 14, 2016 at 2:00 pm #

      Blessings back your way, M! It feels warm in my chest to feel the overlap in the experiences. xo! marga

  6. Michael February 15, 2016 at 12:34 pm #

    Hello M,

    I love your inner equation of what is, with what is needed. I’ve felt that way before recently, too. It’s a choice to let the river carry us along. When we do that, we find ourselves riding in the same boat as the world. We’re seated next to it, our hair flying in its breeze. Who is piloting? Where are we going? These were the questions we asked ourselves before we boarded the craft. When we were negotiating with ourselves about whether to make this trip or not. Now that we’re on board, we’re along for the ride…

    I think these stints in the pressure-cooking extrusion apparatus of Life refine us somehow, strip us down to the richness of the basics, and compress our longing into a rope that we can climb. I hope you emerge clarified and renewed, and the joy of your nomadic dungeon-cleaning tour comes to full flower.

    A heart-squeeze
    from the other side of the bridge,
    where I am zooming along in traffic,
    waiting for my GPS to discover
    I’m no longer on the surface road,
    blinding myself with this view of the sun…
    Michael

    • marga t. February 20, 2016 at 3:52 am #

      The mundane cracks open and everything ceases to flow the same, at times. In just a moment, the sunlight comes through tall windows and falls on the smallest of details, lighting up my student’s stunning corn-rowed braids; here the air crackles and zips — Your description of this compressed longing rope has been turning into a dangling helicopter cord – – I’m dizzy from the view.

  7. leroxz February 17, 2016 at 9:51 pm #

    Wow although you have a unique way of interpreting it, its still totally relatable. Thanks for sharing it’s nice to know there are also others on a similar path

    • marga t. February 20, 2016 at 1:42 pm #

      So lovely to know you are out there.

  8. M.C. February 18, 2016 at 9:55 pm #

    What was that again?
    versus
    What was that?
    Again.

    • marga t. February 20, 2016 at 3:53 am #

      (low-brow version)
      What is this shit?
      What is this?
      Shit!
      🙂

  9. Ka Malana@Fiestaestrellas.com March 1, 2016 at 5:48 pm #

    Hi Marga,
    I just wanted to say, that I always have an appreciation for what you write. Also, that Pina version of Dead Can Dance song has come back around again in my mind. How awesome is that?! Reminiscing about connecting across what isn’t even really a divide of space and time. How awesome, even moreso, that you found the time to write such a meaningful post and to share it with us.
    Love, Ka
    Enjoying your love brow comment above. I looked back and saw my typo just now and smiled 🙂

    • marga t. March 3, 2016 at 2:27 pm #

      Ah Ka,
      I’m Opening this morning with the AH sound of your name. So so wonderful that you have had a Pina visitation again. I’ve been having some good remembering the past few days, of the wordless energy in art forms…wandering into an art gallery after I picked up my taxes felt like I was gifting myself a remembering of the truer flow outside the mundane world of taxes, grades, bills—sending you big heart squeezes my love brow friend! xo!!! marga

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