Tag Archives: Matrix

know it when I feel it

6 Jan

I am 1 –

a pin point on the map

where a push pin could be put

and if I download the app Find My Phone

and I walk around with this distracting device,

I would be a pulsing red (or is it blue?) circle

going from home to work to grocery to deepest woods

where even there persists the drone of cars


of other 1-s going to their work and their homes.

I am a pulsing circle of 1 in my bed for hours each night

secretly escaping my locale

beyond the perception

of such surveillance

in the secret room that monitors all the 1-s goings and comings,


the lotus blooming in the heart of 1-s is invisible.

Caesar still collects his coins;

he never stopped, you know, and

the body gives its flesh and bones to the dirt,

but the lotus heart blossoms alone,

pulses outside detection

in this plane

beaconing to the 1 distance

that cannot be measured.

You and I are already meeting there

and here,  in our skybox seats

disguised in words

pretending to play along.



Thom York dances it…


Lotus Flower (Radiohead):

I will shake myself into your pocket
Do what you want
Do what you want

I will sink and I will disappear
I will slip into the groove
And cut me off
Cut me off

There’s an empty space inside my heart
Where the weeds take root
And now I’ll set you free
I’ll set you free

There’s an empty space inside my heart
Where the weeds take root
So now I’ll set you free
I’ll set you free

Slowly we unfurl as lotus flowers
‘Cause all I want is the moon upon a stick
Just to see what if, just to see what is
I can’t kick your habit
Just to feed your fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart

We will shake and we’ll be quiet as mice
And while the cat is away
Do what we want
Do what we want

There’s an empty space inside my heart
Where the weeds take root
So now I’ll set you free
I’ll set you free

‘Cause all I want is the moon upon a stick
Just to see what if, just to see what is
The bird that’s flown into my room

Slowly we unfurl as lotus flowers
‘Cause all I want is the moon upon a stick
I dance around the pit, the darkness is beneath
I can’t kick your habit
Just to feed your fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart


who builds the matrix?

19 Nov

matrix of life

I once resided in a matrix built on the idea that a marriage had to survive no matter what.  Who built this grid?  I did.  Granted, the master designs for this planned community were laid out long before I came along.  I built onto a long tradition with my own dead ended ideas of right and wrong.  With the strong pressure for staying married, for following the social conventions, I can totally understand why I held on to those ideas for so long, 20 years in earth time 🙂

I came to smell the foul breath of dying from within.   From a deadend stop where I left myself no options,  I  wished that  All would  be over soon.  There are lenses through which the cake has always been too sweet, the dance chaotic, the dress stained, the milk turned sour, and the flowers faded and browning.  Oye.  What a sketchy neighborhood this is!

In this box,  the only legitimate reasons to leave a marriage were simple:   physical abuse, infidelity or drug addiction.   I was blind to any other options in my own reality even in the midst of a crumbling relationship and unreasonable conditions for long years of spiraling down.  I kept a smile on my face through misery and worked my diligent magic trying to fix everything that was being broken on purpose one step ahead of me.  The moment of realization was a toggle switch, I can’t fix this.  My job was to walk away in love.  Oh my, the light came on and my feet did walk in the direction that I needed to go.   The matrix crumbled in an instant and all the previous madness disappeared like the illusion that it was.  Gone.  Pooof!

Welcome to a  tiny borough that once existed in an overgrown and dying city within my little head.

Imagine the worlds we have all created, patterns of thoughts with neon signs and imagined progressions from one place to another, when all the while we are within a false grid with high walls at the edges.  Add them  all together and see them overlaid with the years of matrices before we got here, overlaid by some people who wish us no good, overlaid by the patterns of shadows made from some hidden darkness, overlaid by the game board we agreed upon before we came into our identities.  This is one damned beautiful and complicated basement game of Dungeons and Dragons – this life!  I made it all, or agreed to dwell within this mess, until I was miserable enough to say phew, this sucks; I am going to figure out what is wrong here.

The exit out does not have to be as uncomfortable as this birth scene, eh?


The game board was constructed before I even came here, yet it is added upon by me whenever I am unconsciously creating with my thoughts.  I am one of the builders of the Matrix.  I see myself spinning my little corner web, yet from my new angle, I also see the grand design of unfathomable size and elaboration.  We are born into practices, constructions, conditioning, cultures, religions, mindsets that we absorb as naturally as we breath.  I fell into living life in each and every constructed path set before me.  I’m was a good girl, I was.

Grids exist through beliefs; there are brilliant systems created for limiting human potential.  In these systems I have read about and sense oversight, myself, slight of hand, smoke and mirrors, distraction.  Who laid the patterns?  Who uses us to fill in the material with our divine spark, usurping our goodness wittingly.

This is the part I go full out woo.  You may want to stop here 🙂

Could some of these matrices we live in come from something beyond that which we can comprehend, but we can sense?  Yes, we know of greed, we know of control, power, selfishness, psychotics, narcissists.   Humans do have the potential for wrong.   But in a world of mostly good and kind people from my 47 years of walking around this world, how do we end up with a structured path set out that leads us through a world of disease?   Could some of the matrices come from eons of time, creations set out for the specific purpose of trapping our creative powers?  Who are the Archons, the Nagas, the Annunaki?  Why are the beasts afraid to show themselves, only acting from behind a veil, puppeting such clownish villains down here?


More interesting to me, though, is the idea that all of these elaborate games are in agreement for our growth.  The dark shadows we can explore collectively can overwhelm us into fear, paranoia, and powerless feelings, yet with just a little step back, we can come to the knowledge we are in a game, a game with high stakes.  Perhaps we need it to feel real so real growth can be made.

The more ways in which we can know ourselves truly, ease the suffering of others, wake up, fear less, laugh often and realize all is under control, ultimately, the more we will be able to dissolve and recreate anew.  We have chosen and designed our game.

There really isn’t a wall around me.  There is no path except to reject the one worn by conformity, conditioning, repetition.  There aren’t boundaries and acceptable routes.  Everything is open to fresh new choices in every moment.  How do we escape from the middle of the maze once we know this?

When I can catch myself headed down the deadend streets, I stop and just be.     The present moment and dropped identity are the trumpets of truth to disintegrate my walls. I see my own personal version of the Walls of Jerico come tumbling down.

The little matrices I spin and add to the whole world of delusion are getting caught and stopped more and more before they begin.  When I stop the incorrect thinking, all of the sudden color is brighter, smells are overwhelming, life is not an HD movie;  my daughters are living breathing beings interacting with me here and now, what did she just say?   oh my god, how delightful and i almost missed it weaving my world of thoughts over here.

Sometimes I even imagine I’ve just arrived, fresh from the other side, full of the truth of the game from the skybox.   I am a quarterback dropped into a living body in the 4th quarter.  Any move is possible without the weight of my story or  imagined limitations.  I am Bill Murray in Groundhog Day; I am new and without chains, here changing the game, dissolving the walls, spinning no webs.

ripe fruit

1 Sep

We are such easy pickins’ – humans.

We wear our desires on our faces.

We project our imagined weakness

from a bullhorn.

We tell everything we know from our eyes,

and we hardly

ever blink.

Occasionally, a man wears disdain

and distances himself like a toddler

full of no, but even that

is a challenge as cute as stomping feet.

We sit behind desks and ask to be taught

that which we can easily teach ourselves.

We prostrate at the feet of the famous


the physically pretty.

We fawn at the hem of the fashions

and yet

there is something so powerful in our surrendering.

We sign contracts pledging  our loyalty without asking to see proof.

We give and lose and give again.

One leg up, one leg down, one leg up again.

The power of the human

lies in the soft soft underbelly

of vulnerability.

There is power in our foolish ways of trusting,

in our back resting, belly up offering we give

in our hopes for a gentle rub.

The hidden rulers, which seem separate but are not,

We are thee, too,

with their/our painful daggers

to cut into that soft flesh – we

don’t understand the strength in the weakness.

They/we shun the trust and the beauty

of the stupid creators that we are – yet

They too are in a type of sleep –

a dream of forgetting –

delighting in a puppet play where they pull all the strings

yet leap from their own shadows.

The mystery of the humans will never make sense.

How can a swaddled baby be more powerful than a corporate Titan

towering in his empire built on human backs?

Yet it is.

And we are all expressions of the same

same same…what?




I don’t know – obviously

I’m stretching.

This I do know, but I don’t know how…

The helpless, clueless,


newborn idiot

has only to beckon


he can reign down blessings.

When the sleeping infants wake,

what wonders will  unfold.

(I keep tinkering with these words – they are driving me crazy.  I want to delete but I will let them stand now – I witness in myself the learning that comes through words, reflection, edits, flow, letting go.  words scribbled with the end of a stick into the sand just before the tide comes in taking the words out to sea:)


20 Nov



Where we reside, the lessons come through opposites. I have a friend (DK) who has shown me that where paradox resides, you can be sure the divine is shining through. The divine is urging us on toward growth!

In writing a bit in this blog, I find myself face to face once again with the opposites within me. Even if no one reads this, and the format is just a way of reflecting me back to me, I question the impulse! Why share these thoughts? Is it ego? Why put these ponderings out in any sort of public way?

Now for the flip: connecting cannot take place without some sort of impulse. The past few years, the universe has richly rewarded me for stepping out of comfortable spots when the impulse to share strikes – my only contacts with awakening friends have come about by some movement, some acting on the impulse to share. My yin hunkers down and isolates to know herself, my yang seeks the company of like minded friends. My sun: My moon.

When our brains are forced to wrap around seemingly opposite ideas, and hold them all as true, we are thrown into cognitive dissonance.  We, human animals, do not like cognitive dissonance.  Cog Dis (so familiar to me now that the concept has this nickname) feels uncomfortable. In our discomfort, we have a choice to make. We can crack the outer shell of what we “think” we know and GROW. Or we can hide and revert back into old easy patterns – pretending we never heard the information that made our head hurt.  Then often we shoot the uncomfortable thought full of  hatred, fear and spew. Think Matrix movie moment…

There is lots of Cog Dis to be had, these days. On some level, we all know…the latest news stories…the lie repeated so often it becomes fact; so many broken systems surround us everyday. Peak Oil was one of the first such paradoxes that cracked my shell at one point – many shells ago. Our world on the verge of collapse in so many areas, one needn’t travel far to find the angst-ridden discord of opposites pulling.

Today I ask myself, what is asking to be looked at right now, full on? In what area am I choosing the steak?

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