Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
Every now and again it's nice to see that someone notices. It makes you feel like maybe you haven't completely wasted your time. Of course, I don't know what the guy is trying to say because he didn't say it (much like his short piece demonstrates) but what I do know is that he didn't offer the refutation that my piece demanded. Bottom Line? Something is true or it isn't. It was nice of him to provide a means of contact but... for me, there's no point. I already said what I had to say. You don't have to go far to see the very mentality I am talking about. Give it time and this will dwarf the Brocol Harum, Bring Back our Girls PR stunt for yet one more NSA funded terror op. The degree of artifice and transparent fabrications is extreme these days. Very likely the recent kidnapping in Israel is yet another stunt. These days every single example is a stunt until proven otherwise.
I'd say I want my world back but I never had one. Now I'm in another episode. I don't know where it's headed and I don't know what it means. I get up each morning and I go to bed each night. I'm dreaming, obviously. There's a point to it all but I'm not supposed to know what it is. I'm sure the reader shares my dilemma; how it is so easy to see the meaning of things in the lives of others and so very difficult to see it in our own?
I move through the world and I watch the people in shops and on the streets. They seem ordinary because the events of their lives in this moment in time are ordinary. Let the transport trucks stop and the utilities go down and you will see the face beneath the Formica. I might as well be from outer space. I am an alien life-form here. I know the thoughts that pass through my mind are not the thoughts passing through the minds of the people around me. I occasionally go places and sit in a cafe, on a park bench, somewhere... and I look to see if I can spot one person who has the ineffable on their mind. I look to see if there is another person looking as I do, around me ...and... wondering like I do about the same considerations. I've never seen anyone so occupied. Of course, I might be missing it. Regardless of whatever amount of intuition and telepathic insight I may possess, it's a given that I miss things but... I have this very strong feeling that this is something I would be able to see, at least now and again. I know that the man whose property I am living on thinks about these things but that makes sense. I wouldn't be here otherwise.
Let's face it. Those of us who are occupied with thoughts about the divine are in a very small minority. Those of us who are more or less sane I mean; more or less. I'm referencing the teeming mass of Fundie Bots who make up the vast majority of those engaged in religious practice. Religious practice is not to be confused with spiritual practice. Of course, no committed spiritual being can be considered sane by the world's standards. It's a given that their thoughts, words and actions generally go contrary to what is euphemistically called, 'conventional wisdom'.
What I am most grateful for is that I am able to continue, to go on, despite being alienated from nearly all of the life around me and I don't have to do or say anything to make this alienation occur. The last couple of days I found myself in some locations I don't usually visit. I was just some guy in blue jeans and a sweater; no real distinguishing marks to speak of, yet... when I walked into the room, the hallway, the store, everywhere I turned, there were eyes upon me. Some of them looked startled. Some looked suspicious. Some glared at me. Some even looked something close to frightened. It made no kind of sense. I'm used to this. It's been happening for awhile but now, it's gone up several notches. Trust me, it's pretty strange. Genetically I come from this place a couple generations back.
Like I said, I'm grateful that I have an inner life that occupies my existence because being so far outside the general ebb and flow of the people around me might be devastating to someone who wanted to be a part of it all. There were times in my life that I actually tried to fit in and the result was not pleasant. Regardless of keeping every part of what I am to myself, it was soon apparent that I was not welcome. I bring up these occasional anecdotal scenarios only when they stand out in my mind and when I think that talking about them is likely going to resonate with a lot of the readership. From the content of the emails I get and especially of late, it's clear that I am not the Lone Ranger here.
When I use Broad Daylight Awareness and step outside of myself, it is a wonder to me that I'm anywhere near serene about this process called existence. Regardless of what anyone may think, I really do rely on the ineffable for everything. It's not a matter of my trying to do it, or seeking to follow the constant reminders that I get of, 'rely on me'. The truth is that I have no choice. I have no country. I have no job; the way most people have a job. I have no abiding patron. I have no investments, own no property and due to the subject matter of my posts, I am blackballed from every industry I am engaged in. If there is one thing that frustrates me, it's that I don't know what any of it means. It must mean something. Everything means something.
When I look at the spectacle of my life through Broad Daylight Awareness, I am truly shocked to find that I'm not dead from some form of substance abuse, in a wheelchair or some institution- also in a wheelchair (grin), or bent into unrecognizable shape, hounded by all manner of harpies or something indicative of the Santa Anna shitstorm style winds I've been walking head on into for decades. What happens is I go to bed and I have remarkable dreams. Then I wake up and I have my morning tea (Morning Thunder tea, courtesy of a generous and thoughtful reader. You can't buy it here.) I check to see what's going on out there, or whatever amount of what 'they' want me to see about what's going on out there. Following that I meditate and pray, then I exercise, then I work on this place (tomorrow I'll put up a video about that end of things); at certain moments I'll do some variation of this writing exercise, eat at some point, pray some more, do a whole lot of reflecting along the lines of what you see here most days and I wonder. I wonder about my erectile dysfunction (metaphorically speaking) as it concerns the world around me. What I mean is that is all pretty ordinary and that's about it day after day. I'm leaving out all those beautiful moments that come and go and make what might seem empty to others, very rewarding and fulfilling. I rarely converse with anyone. I spend every evening and most days by myself, with occasional brief interpersonal action on some days but I can't remember ever wishing that someone was here. I spent near fifteen years in one room just recently without ever having a friend in the area or the neighborhood drop in. I simply had nothing in common with anyone. Even in what passed for my own home for that period of time, I seldom was able to have a conversation about the things I care about. The only people I ever saw otherwise were people who flew in to see me.
I'll go to bed soon now and I'll lay there looking through the skylight at that single star that's fixed in that location and maybe it will occur to me that that star was once a human being many kalpas ago... or so certain sages maintain. That star shines there in its isolation and there is some kind of cosmic poetry in that which is beyond human imagination. Such is the nature of life for those upon the solitary path. Solitude moves from lonely state to lonely state and given the incalculable benevolence of the ineffable, this is some kind of priceless gift, yet most people would look upon such a thing with horror. They would go mad because of it but we, 'we few", we are already mad.
As I lay in my bed my thoughts will go toward the ineffable. It's an unbreakable habit at this point. I often start talking to the ineffable as I climb up the ladder to the loft (stairway can't go in until the whole roof is finished) and it will continue for a time as I lie there. Sometimes I will hear a reply but often there is only me (or seems to be) speaking into the darkness AND sometimes there are replies in the way that my feeling are woven into a pattern by unseen hands and that results in my seeing something that I cannot see but that is palpable at a level where I am made aware of deeper things.
My insignificant life is a beautiful thing, in some ways simply by virtue of that. One of the things I love the most about the ineffable is 'how great thou art'. How could I ever take myself seriously when I am aware and could never be unaware of that? How could I find myself or anything I do to be of any real importance when I am never unaware of how truly and immeasurably great the ineffable is? All day there is The Sun to remind me. At night there are The Moon and Stars; the planets spinning in their orbits... that incredible expanse of everything all held together by the ceaseless meditation of the ineffable upon it. Anything good that I might accomplish is accomplished by the one who works through me. Every error and mistake is my own. All of them are the incidental departures of my every day; seen for what they are in the instant of their commission. How could I ever believe that I am in any way exceptional when I am confronted with my own shortcomings every day for that very reason? This is the beauty of Broad Daylight Awareness. Without it one can become caught up in any number of outrageous fantasies and become puffed up like a peacock in their vanity. I despise vanity. It is one of the most dangerous- and at the same time- useless qualities one can be burdened with. I have to laugh out loud at least once a day when I come across some news-bite about someone taking themselves seriously, croaking like a frog in whatever small pond they're performing in.
Many people are lonely while being surrounded by crowds. Some of us are never lonely and yet there is no one else around to be seen. My capacity to entertain myself is a thing of wonder, most of the time I completely forget that there is no one here but... that's not true is it, that no one is here? That's not true at all. I find myself wanting to keep saying the same thing in a different way; I look back at my life and I see an excruciating passage over tormented highways, with hardly any respite at all except in more recent years, yet it has no real meaning to me. I'm guessing these things happened to me but there's no impact, no sense of the wounds and there certainly must be some. I have four brothers and a sister. My mother is going to be 95 this year. I haven't called home in awhile which means I haven't heard from any of them and unless someone dies I won't. Nothing happened to cause this. We are quite friendly when we talk. They communicate regular with each other but not with me. I am not a part of any of that and I did nothing to cause it. It was that kundalini thing. After it happened I had no blood family anymore. It just vanished and all the world became my family, at least that portion of it that recognizes it. Strangely enough, this fact communicated itself to the rest of that family without anything ever having to be said.
It's midnight now. I'm usually in bed at around ten normally because that's how it is here. Somewhere else it would be something else. For some reason I'm up tonight, largely to compose this posting. What happens in this life happens when it wants to. I'm just along for the ride. Last week, or maybe the week before was our two hundredth radio broadcast. Next week will be the six year anniversary. In anticipation of that I have slowed the verbal pace and we can look for that to be a regular feature now. This Sunday's broadcast is now available for listening. I hope the reader can find some useful, personal meaning out of this rambling soliloquy. I try to keep myself out of the mix as much as I can remember to but it's bound to happen sometimes and this is one of those times. Much love to you all.
Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World
- 'An Exploration Toward the Ineffable'
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