Tag Archives: Mooji

hungry for this now

11 Jul


what is reflected in these eyes?

we all are.

we are this and are in need of nothing else.

This sort of gaze is unusual in our world.  This picture arrests me.  Not because of who this is.  Mooji is a good teacher for me, but it is his eyes that I am drawn to.  I see a clear mirror in this picture; perhaps no more words are needed.

i seek this, hunger for this lack of pretense.  This blog helps me to see my words reflecting layers of story clouding just how close this clarity is.

I, too, am getting sick of words.

i lack nothing.  I have never lacked for anything.

But I do Ask, Why are the pictures above and below unusual?


Patti Smith and William S. Burroughs

There is a certain nakedness here that arrests me, in this shot, as well.

Why do we not all see each other for real, young or old, pretty or plain; why do we not look each other in the eyes and see ourselves and grab hold like it means something?

the greatest fall

18 Jun


Talk of spirituality can be such a turn off.  I know that feeling of squirm inside when someone speaks about spirit.  Squish and uck!

Such a personal and internal thing – the soul beneath the experiences – the self in a cave behind the waterfall flow of life.

When it is spoken of, pointed to, preached about, proselytized outward, sung across the mountain – I turn into goth girl, sarcastic and cynic – blue about the lips.

I apologize for bringing it up if it makes you squirm.

In my journey, the floor has been yanked from underneath me over and over again.  Just a few: the death of my brother when I was 14, loss of religion, loss of the conditioned aspects of life – roles – and a near death experience that brought me to a brink and made me choose to live.   When there was no ground beneath me,  what helped get me back into a body, back into the journey?

Voices and words of teachers that I found on my own had a place for me.  Every teacher is just a pointer, showing his own way to a deeper thread, which he himself will tell you is unknowable.

I was just finishing typing this post and the doorbell rang.  Some lovely southern ladies with hats and dresses came by and gave me a pamphlet for a convention about their religion.  Hello.  Didn’t even know the doorbell worked!

 I hold gently the words as I gradually begin to relax and float down the stream, dissolving little bit by little bit into the water.

Today I get to meet my friend visiting from far away for a downtown Charleston bimble and explore!

Today I choose to live.

Sometimes people say they can smell freedom.
They say they fall more and more into the embrace of That which is unspeakable.
And I have to acknowledge that this is not merely an intellectual thought or conviction.
It is a deep inner thing; a felt experience in the Heart beyond words and thoughts, and yet I have to tell you that what you are falling into Is and was already here—unchangingly.
It is what you already are and no distance is involved.
Has anyone ever heard of a falling where there was no distance?
This is the fall where there is no distance.
It’s the greatest fall; the falling away of delusion.


10th of June, 2013

I don’t mind

26 Apr


It might seem like maybe if you lose some weight, maybe if you get more money, maybe if you find a person who really understands you, maybe if you finally figure out how to have lots of friends, maybe if you get recognized for being famous, maybe if your face were a bit prettier, maybe if you could be a great athlete, maybe you could finally find yourself at the cool table in the middle school lunchroom, maybe if you were taller, maybe when the kids leave home, maybe when you can see things in the world, maybe if you could learn enough, maybe if you were a bit smarter, maybe if you weren’t so tongue tied, maybe if your family cared about you more, maybe if you could look perfect to others, maybe if you got promoted, maybe if your job involved cool travel, maybe if you could do what you thought was helping others as your job, maybe if you could support yourself as an artist, maybe if your house didn’t have clutter, maybe if a good day never ended, maybe if your kids were better behaved, maybe if you didn’t have to worry, maybe if you were important, maybe if you could be alone, maybe if you finally found yourself, maybe if your mind got quiet and you were enlightened, maybe if other people listened to your words, maybe if you didn’t feel invisible, maybe if you finally felt good enough, maybe if you figured it all out…

When one accepts what comes with equanimity, one is more open and present to deal with the moment with whatever is needed because the mind is not clouded by trying to cling to the good or run from the bad of what is occurring.  What happens, I don’t mind.    There is nothing wrong with me or you or this moment.

The Path Will Meet You As You Step

22 Feb

overgrown path

This is a hard time, a place along the journey that will have a mark, a groove, some kind of evidence of a certain kind of heartache and turmoil that will probably be a demarcation of sorts.  And still…

I’m starting to realize I don’t have any feelings about the events in my life.

In some ways, that sounds just wrong – as if I’ve checked out, gone numb, given up.

But it isn’t that.

With the release of expectations or attachments to outcome, things are just happening.  I am here, I watch, I do things, and all is equal.  Strange, eh?

My life up to now has prepared me for the unfolding of now.  I stare this now in the face, my own denials, my own attempts to fix, and accept every part.

What seems a struggle is when I don’t know what to do, when I imagine I have to make a path or figure something out.   What I am learning is how to see the path as I take my step.

I step, the path steps up to meet me.  Or something like that.  The path often doesn’t become clear until I  step.

The confusion comes if I anticipate the path not meeting me.  Then the path looks like an overgrown jungle requiring a machete.

Now, that old Irish Blessing makes sense, May the Road Rise Up To Meet You.  Geez, so silly revisiting all these old sayings and realizing, now I see what that means!  I thought I knew, now I see more, and yet there is still more that opens.  Without stress, it opens up before me.

The Path Will Meet You As You Step.


If you could look inside the Heart….

13 Feb

If you could look inside the Heart of any and every single human being, you would fall in love with them completely.
If you see the inside as it really Is and not as your mind projects it to be, you would be so purely in love with the whole thing.

~ Mooji


Today, my students read in front of the classroom the stories they had written.  My favorite days of the semester are when they lead the class.  I observe myself as being the listener and recognize that often I have to soften my belly and release my projections to hear, really hear.

They humble me – they silence me.

Often, they apologize for what they perceive of as “not good.”  And I do not know how to show them what I see through my view, not good and bad, but beautiful – each one – bringing eyes, ears, lips, dialect, walk, courage, stories.

The Nicaraguan student’s first meeting with his wife to be, the deathbed scene with a father, the father’s tale of his 3 year old son saving fallen flowers from his rake,  near deaths, broken hearts, sexual identity discoveries, chance encounters…

It is not appropriate for the teacher to say she loves them – she holds her tongue – but not her heart.

The Punches Go Right Through

30 Jan

It is a magical, moody morning here.  My life blesses me with a ride to a central bus stop for my daughters on a road named Harbor View Drive, along which, we cross a marsh and see the sun coming up over the harbor.  Earlier this year, this ride was full of angry angst, but now, after all the learning and growing, this morning, we enjoy:  the clouds that hang just at the top of the trees, threatening rain at the same time the sun is rising,  reflecting water, exotic birds, and the plot line of a crazy show involving twins switched at birth, conveyed with dry wit followed by giggles.

Eyes cry, eyes dry, anger comes, anger goes, laughter builds, laughter fades…blessings to blow one away in every moment.

It is a very unsatisfying feeling to punch the air – I have seen that play out.  This morning I am enjoying the plateau in suffering and the view this stop along the mountain climb affords.

My sudden realization during Mooji’s brief talk was this:  the pain body of others is exactly the same as the ego/mind voice inside.    If there is nothing anywhere to be hit, nothing can land.  Boxing is no fun without an opponent 🙂 outside with the play of people or inside in the play of thoughts.

Who is listening to the outside voices?  Who is listening on the inside?

There can be no one home in my body and no one home in my mind!   Who is even talking now?  grin grin grin.

“Where is My Mind”

Oh – stopWith your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
But there’s nothing in it
And you’ll ask yourselfWhere is my mind [3x]Way out in the water
See it swimmin’

I was swimmin’ in the Caribbean
Animals were hiding behind the rocks
Except the little fish
But they told me, he swears
Tryin’ to talk to me, coy koi.

Where is my mind [3x]

Way out in the water
See it swimmin’ ?

Burn This.

19 Dec

Is there anything more important than remembering?


Sometimes in the presence of grace, memories of egoic responses are a movie I watch about me as someone else from a distance.

 Last night after two days of intense looking at the cold, harsh truth through one lens (Where does one turn for help with teenage angst that won’t offer Zoloft as a solution?), I couldn’t help but “zoom out.” (Phrase borrowed from a teacher sublime, btw, Neilkramer.com…for another post!)

Still, here I am.   I am walking through the grocery, smiling, while the circumstances wouldn’t warrant that response 🙂

I fall in love with a cold lemon and the way it fits in my palm.

 A man with a froggy voice wishes me well; we share love through our eyes and I pass it on to the woman behind the plant counter which takes her by surprise!

All the while, I don’t remember my story.  I seem to let all unfold as it will – in this grace.  This grace will become a constant – is the constant, though there is still forgetting.

Burning up seems a sort of tragedy in one way, but these fires are gifts sent to me for just that purpose.

Just this and to realize that lemons are very sexy 😉

Amazing interwoven thread of connection from a wise and loving sol.

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