The space between 1 and 2 is the
same infinite quality as between 2 and 3
Not the same space
different aspects
Yes the same nature
infinite
∞
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Observation 1
Category: Philosophy
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Consistently Mistaken
I thought when I received, I would be grateful.
I wasn’t.
I thought to be pursued would be fun, a real romp.
It wasn’t.
I thought to be beheld as beautiful could give me confidence, know my beauty.
It didn’t.
I thought to be loved to could open my heart, make me love.
It couldn’t.
I thought when tested, I would pass.
I didn’t.
“We will only engage in pure spiritual practice if we have definitely understood that we have a precious human life and we have to use it now. We can die today. It’s possible.”
Gen-la Kunsang, Kadampa Podcast
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Reality
Some things come
Some things go
At least that’s what
We think we know
Yet no thing can rise
And no thing can fall
For there is no out there
Mind is all
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Become the Jedi Master of Your Life
Anger is a poison that eats away at your life giving energy winds.
Why would you indulge in such an addiction? What benefit is there?
All those giving up anger in turn for peace and love, for better health, better relationships, rejoice! And do not lose faith. Challenges will come.
The experience of healing anger is not linear. It is not better, better, better. It is many different things for different people. Sometimes better, bad, better, better, bad, better, better, worse you’ve ever been, better, best yet.
Not always. The only thing that matters is never giving up.
Become the Jedi Master of your own mind and respond to your thoughts and feelings appropriately.
May your path be blessed.
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Non Attachment is Renunciation
While we can happily enjoy conditions while they are good, there is no logical reason to become attached to any particular condition, because they are always changing.
All conditions, situations, people are temporary. They may last what feels like a long time or they may be brief, changing suddenly, unexpectedly, perhaps lost forever. Because when we manifest the same ‘souls’ or similar appearance in our next life, we have absolutely no recollection that we’ve lived it all before. Loved it all before. Losing it once more. And what lessons have we learned? What imprints are left?
With wisdom we can enjoy each appearance, as it arises, unattached. The end of coming is going. The end of meeting is parting. It happens all the time. All at once.
Why take anything so seriously? Life is but a dream. All we need to do to make it a happy one is create causes. By performing virtue. Sacrifice the self-cherishing, maker of all suffering. Ditch the attachment, rooted in self-grasping ignorance. Renounce samsara and all the pain it’s worth.
Stop harming others. Stop harming your self. Three deep breaths. Relax. Shake your sillies out. Volunteer. Don’t take yourself so seriously. Loosen up. Let it be. Love. Become Enlightened. Rejoice endlessly.
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Out brief candle
What character am I today?
Oft I strive for studious, disciplined
Yet my ego shakes those keeners off
and lets me where a suit
I’m likely to get in trouble for
In grade school I was sent
to the lost & found to find
myself in another’s clothes
after boldly wearing my own
t-shirt listing the names of the
popular kids in the class
under the stamp
Cool Girls Suck
something ran amuck —
I cannot comprehend
my own ten year old mind
that thought her teachers
were arrested in the head
these past life impressions pressed
back out, creating misery this time ‘round
Attachment to the ego,
character Thomas B.
never did bring happiness
so I won’t be attached to thee —
what kind of actor am I today?
Who will I be as I create
causes for ultimate peace
not just for me —
what purpose for that?
If I truly love others,
I’ll escape and come back
Late spring 2018
What you risk reveals what you value. — Jeanette Winterson
When one finds themselves in an unexpected or surreal place, I think it is normal to start reflecting on the events that led them to that point. We go back in time and wonder if we could have forecasted any or all of it. I think leaders, public speakers and the ilk do it often. They think back to being the shy kid in school who didn’t put themselves “out there” and then appear on stage as if it was an inherent gift.
I can’t help but reflect on the adventures that led me to lying on the rocks of Temiskaming Shores on a cold spring day in late May. My fingertips chilled as I type hastily into my phone. Pen scratches on sticky notes with ideas for a blog post, poem or book. If I don’t write it down now, it will be lost forever. Or so I think.
Everyone experiences their inspiration differently. I met an author the other day. We had a decent conversation, and I got the name of his book. I sold him a subscription to Microsoft Word. I do that now. Sell things to people. In a way, I always have – in retail and non profit. And perhaps I always will. Somehow never in order to or with the intention of actually making personal profit or gain.
When I reflect back to my “old life” in Niagara, I didn’t imagine myself here. I could imagine adventure and travel and I had hope for some kind of success. But I didn’t know how to bury my acorns and have something grow. I didn’t know I could make my dreams come true. I was cynically optimistic or optimistically cynical, and I didn’t think that real love or happiness was possible for me, would be possible for me.
When the impossible happens to you, when you experience a miracle or a have a dream come true, you believe that experience can be true for everyone.
They just have to work harder, believe in themselves, cut out pictures from magazines and post them on a board they look at every day. I’m not so sure. I think we can all manifest our desires and a type of happiness that can sustain us in this life. But it’s not so easy for everyone. Some of us are born with a four leaf clover stamped on our souls (or a lucky horseshoe up one’s ass, as a friend would say). And others must face each of life’s hardships, often over and over, even watching others do the same.
I’m one of the lucky ones. I love an unlucky one. Luck is non-transferable, I’ve learned. It’s not even inspiring. It can cause resentment. Sometimes luck is not fortune. Sometimes it is hard work. But when you were born and raised in survival mode, and you’ve gained the knack or XP for surviving, it looks like fortune. It can even feel like fortune. Sometimes it feels like you don’t deserve what you have, and when things are good that they shouldn’t be.
This life is hard to navigate. You need people that make it better. You learn from them and they instill in you their hope and values. Sometimes, perhaps more often than not, people teach what not to do and who not to be. I have a running list of what not to do and who not to be. I have been burned and scarred from those I once respected. I have been stabbed by those I never trusted, but they got close enough to leave their mark nonetheless. I constantly yearn for a mentor. Someone who can teach me something I do not already know. I am such a fast learner. But my path has been made slow with obstacles that I would not let myself move around. Oh the amazing lessons I’ve learned and the gifts I’ve received! But none are what I’ve asked for.
Isn’t that the point, though?
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Mission Accomplished
I’m done with wishy-washy
done with undecided
Finished with fools
I’m ditching unreliables
I’m done with second chances
done with forgiving
Prove yourself now or get
on with your living
I can’t deal with backwash
won’t swallow minced words
I’m tired of dream fluff
save that bullshit for birds
You were spineless and weak
a watered down turd
No more namby-pamby
get gone from my life
I’m holding out for a hero
who’s holding out for me, wife
Your fickle vacillation
nearly drove me insane
And worse, you blame me,
as if I changed my name
I’m done with remembering
I just don’t have the time
You were too wishy-washy
Now thank god you’re not mine
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Karma v. Equanimity
How can one help but try and remember
Even ask curiously
Who is this and how do I know them from a past life
As I indirectly feed them or compete for
attention or laughter or share an earnest
word on institutional experience
I cannot help but question
How do I know you?
Did we eat at the same table?
Drink from the same cup?
Have I sensually stroked your arm?
Did you birth me from your womb?
Push me on the swing?
So many lives lived unremembered
Remarkable though they seemed
At the time
Gone. Gone from my grasp.
Yet feelings of familiarty arise
At each and every word exchanged
The touches given, stopped
So weird that you could linger
Like an unfounded memory
Yet I know within my heart
That appearance reflects karma
Though unfolded memory remains
Tucked away for enlightened eyes only
A privilege reserved for tenth dimension beings
And here we are struggling in 3D appearance
I don’t hear you in my dreams
No we weren’t that close so recently
But previous lives are infinite
Circular I like to believe
So we’ve had…how many?
Now you stand before me
Like you’ve never known me
But you bear the name I’ve heard before
Under steepled roof, through Christian door
I strive for patience, not to deplore
A despicable name I don’t care for
You aren’t the same though it would appear that way
And de ja vu is pretty peculiar
So the dream I know is a dream getting weirder
As if it’s possible it could be stranger
But that is one thing you’re definitely not
As you avoid my gaze it’s clear
You’ll never shoot your shot and
I think about the shit lot it sometimes
seems I got – gave myself? – a dream with
Suspicious people in my midst
Horrid roommates taking the piss
Out of my very livelihood – what a ride
My karma has given me, so I turn
To the cause, asking
“What has given rise to thee?
What led this John Doe here to me?
What action have a I done or refused
That left this jackoff rather bruised?”
Better perhaps to question
How do I right the wrongs
That led to these damned impressions?
How do I purify the karma in the way
Of the mind that holds steadfastly
Virtuous equanimity, a warm feeling
And friendly attitude to each living being?
That is peace and happiness to me.
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Effortless Escape | FF 14
With each rain that comes, the plants and trees bear their happy adversity, making constant meaning from madness.
They do not stop to wallow in the swamp of their existence. They keep growing, often sacrificing their bodies for others.
There is no exasperation at the reckless imposition stabbed by man, only continual growth in spite of sabotage.
We are still the lonely hunters, destroying the homes of attachment-driven creatures grasping at their existence.
Tightly.
Shall we, instead, unfurl our leaves and enjoy the difficulties samsaric existence brings – in order to evade its illusive attack so that we may escape – at least the worries!
Growing wiser, effortlessly, as the plants, the trees.
The Halfwit Writer 