Seeing Through Yourselves

The dream is mind's instructor. Respect the dream like one respects a teacher.

In dream, you are myself seen through a looking glass. On the other hand, nature is myself. Such is the infallibility of being.

Give self to myself by seeing through yourselves. Stop talking about charity when there's everything to give and no one to give to but myself.

Adolescence is all about Being pretending to be something when everyone is making one feel like nothing.

Write like a child in discovery and not an adult speaking to another jaded adult.

Write discovery and not some inauthentic socially-conditioned formalista irony. Koan. Not scenic views.

Movies are cheap mystical experiences. Everything you see is the real mystical experience. A mystic rose is a mystic rose is a mystic rose.

The past is a social science. Follow the concept. Memory is your only backup. A babbling brook in a desert canyon before the ancient ruins.

Being is the only science. Ten thousand deities dance on the head of a pin. Smell the flowers but fire burns.

The quick brown frog jumps through the ancient pond.

Of Gods and Dogs and Self-awareness

Gods do not exist.

But dogs do not exist as well.

It's not that gods or dogs do not exist,

but existence itself is pure imagination.

And nonexistence is pure imagination.

So being neither exists nor doesn't exist.

And absolute awareness is neither being nor non-being.

Existence is the imagination of mind.

Mind is the instrument of being.

Being is the intent of self-awareness.

Self-awareness is awareness.

In the reflexive universe of self-awareness,

being is the intent of the closing

and the knowledge in the opening.

Self-awareness intends being.

Being utilizes mind.

Mind constructs dream.

Dream instructs mind.

Mind deconstructs itself.

Being, alone, knows self-awareness.

No procedure in a process is superfluous.

The Enchantment of Atonement

There are seven billion stories 

in my universal primer 

and all of them share one plot: 

awareness being self-awareness.

No story is right

or wrong

but every story is

intentional.

By skillful means of Applied Mythologies

and the universal heart of Great Compassion,

every story is released

from critical review.

Instead of seven billion stories,

there are seven billion sacred mountains

with seven billion brilliant butterflies

shining transformation on each one.

Not the endless zero of nihilistic tragedy

nor the endless one of pointless comedy,

but devoted nonduality

of creative explication.

In further words,

deconstruction is the skillful means,

compassion is the heart of being,

and magical reality is the true form of oneself.

Wavelength

seven billion

Rivers

flowing

to the

sea of the Sun

and

seeing

through

the inner

depths to that

Center of

Refraction

the one in-

conceivable

eye

First Revelations

look within your window

samsara looks like hell

it isn’t

one is a witness becoming self-aware

actually conditioning is the rub in the turn

Krishna says war only looks like love

being with Parvati is my magical reality

awareness being self-aware

Son

Meditations on a Paragraph in Nisargadatta 56:The World in Myself, Not Myself In the World

Of course we live in one world. Only I see it as it is, while you don't. You see yourself in the world, while I see the world in myself. To you, you get born and die, while to me, the world appears and disappears. Our world is real, but your view of it is not. There is no wall between us, except the one built by you. There is nothing wrong with the senses, it is your imagination that misleads you. It covers up the world as it is, with what you imagine it to be—something existing independently of you and yet closely following your inherited, or acquired patterns. There is a deep contradiction in your attitude, which you do not see and which is the cause of sorrow. You cling to the idea that you were born into a world of pain and sorrow; I know that the world is a child of love, having its beginning, growth and fulfillment in love. But I am beyond love even.

~Nisargadatta

1. A person looks at what appears to be and manipulates it as it thinks it should be, creating a belief for this in its blindness of what is.

2. One may look at what appears to be and sees what is, creating a mythology, a magical reality, for this appearance in that loving light.

3. The former is black magic utilizing the illusion of past and future. The latter is white magic in the manifesting transformation now.

4. All persons are black magicians—some better than others—like a game of playing cards—deuces aces jokers jacks and queens—then there are the ones who learn to be the trump card.

5. There is only awareness and self-awareness. Like the God of Gods knowing “it” is the God of Gods.

6. And this appears to the mind within and of the process to be an evolutionary universe of space-time, in which it is an object, a body of space and a mind of time, the body-mind.

7. But awareness being self-aware is spontaneous and integral as is.

8. So in this mythic seeing of a world within myself, my self-awareness appears to be a reflexive universe in which awareness is intent on this self-awareness, descending into, and then ascending from, the material.

9. The human being is the omega of this universal process, withdrawing from the wave of the material into the sea of being. Thus a person is the necessary confusion of this crashing wave, self-conscious yet not self-aware.

10. The spontaneous action of awareness being self-aware—when the person sees one is being and not the body—this is the end of the world as a person knows it, “dying” before “dying.”

11. Awareness being self-aware is not only spontaneous as in relation to the time of space-time, but integral as in relation to the space of space-time.

12. Such a magical reality balances conditioning and truth, person and being, alpha and omega, samsara and nirvana, appearance and reality, duality and unity. As nondual.

13. In bringing this magical reality into being, I redeem the world.

The Omega Block

Monday and it’s raining.

Weather people say we’re stuck in an Omega Block

and rain will be a steady presence for the upcoming week.

One could say the world is in a similar situation.

In a universe of reflexivity—that awareness and this self-awareness,

the unborn undying truth—

the world is like a blocking belief in birth and death,

appearing as an atmosphere of war

instead of the evolutionary transformation of what is.

On the other hand, from the vantage point of space,

there’s just this intentional bluish planet and its whirling

splendid great-hearted white noise of silence.

Big Bang Mountain

Consciousness is like 

the light 

and pure awareness 

like the source. 

One goes on and off. 

The big unknown is neither. 

Call it the black whole. 

The Unbelievable Event of I

God knowing God

when sliced

looks like an evolutionary universe—

as I emerge from my chrysalis as Self-awareness.

A good practice is to move your hand around

as if it's a skeleton.

That is pure imagination.

The body is just an idea—

and so the great doctors help cure

your self of all ideas.

Think of your skeleton as light—

this is called treating a symptom.

Questioning consensus reality—

that's basically the definition of post-modernism.

Accepting only being is the next big thing.

Believing

in only being

until seeing

that is unbelievable—

being is

the knowledge of

that unknown.

Authenticity is just knowing the personal is inauthentic.

If affirmation is New Age,

negative capability is:

“capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts,

without any irritable reaching after fact and reason”

Data is the past

and only predicts

one who lives in the past.

Magic reality is just that first flush of deconstruction.

Upon seeing the falsity of conventional reality,

it’s natural to imagine new and magical realities.

Developing one's natural

compassion is the most important practice there is

if one intends on staying in this world.

Otherwise Karma.

Seeing through illusion is the best

a bodhisattva can do.

The trick is always there.

Unless you're like a Buddha or something.

Illusion seeing

projecting the big mountain—

this is Buddha's world!

For I Am Oriole

I’m waiting for the oriole.

I’ve bought the orange suet,

placed it as an offering outside.

I’ve meditated on its Latin name

and contemplated Audubon’s religious

rendering in his Holy Birds of America.

May First is almost here and that’s the date

which marks their resurrection in the Valley.

I promise not to swear when hearing golden voices in the air!

I’ve really done as much as I can do, although

this afternoon I’ll go out and buy a genuine orange,

slice it nicely into numbers I’ve been told in dreams

sing like magical attraction to the lovely flying one

and nail them on the wind. The truth will come

and when it does I’ll wear its black and orange feathers

timelessly and naturally in the hot intention of the Sun.

Defrosting Cherry Blossoms

I’ve been noticing the cherry trees 

along my usual ways. And it appears 

they’ve been damaged by this yin yang 

New England April weather— 

the warm and sunny afternoons were quite

enough to tease the blossoms into budding

but the cold Canadian whiskey freezing

nights have stopped them in their tracks.

And so a year without the cherry blossoms!

Not that we’re Kyoto or further Hirosaki—

and this Valley doesn’t have the tributes of a Washington DC.

Although our monuments aren't built to Empire either— 

they’re more about the revolution. Transformation.

And the Universe is just a speck of Consciousness

smaller than a mustard seed. Space reveals imagination—

light-years shine within unseasonable awareness.