deuces and one-eyed jacks

universal consciousness

identifying

with a part

of the universal

is personal

slash divisional—

war, insanity

and suffering.

whatever,

give me more!

because

the two of hearts is played,

the one-eyed jack appears—

who is the ace of spades?

Transcreating Christ: Do unto Oneself

Ask and you are given. 

Seek and one is finding. 

Knock and be opened.

For every asking is receiving 

and the seeking is the finding 

and the knocking is being opened as oneself.

Or is there a person among you, 

if your child asks for bread, 

will be giving instead a stone?

Or if asked for a fish, offer snake?

So do unto oneself as you would do for others.


Note: Obviously, I recognize that this is a somewhat radical transcreation of Matthew 7:7-12, but one I feel is not only necessary, but inevitable, if one sees 7:11 as some poor priestly interpretation of the wisdom in the previous lines, and so not included here ("If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?"). Once this is seen, it is also seen that 7:12 is not some lone line sticking out as a sore thumb and translated as a golden rule, but instead is directly connected to 7:9-10 and the beautiful two lines before those. Nisargadatta Maharaj, the great Indian sage, says, “If you think that Buddha, Christ or Krishnamurti speak to the person, you are mistaken. They know well that the vyakti, the outer self, is but a shadow of the vyakta, the inner self, and they address and admonish the vyakta only.” Thus 7:12 is not some gilded rule of personal conduct but exactly that address to the inner self, oneself. Let Christ be Christ.

Transcreating Christ:Christ Consciousness is Non-volitionaland All-encompassing

How does Christ Consciousness come to be?

It's as if we humans cast seeds in the ground, 

and while we’re sleeping and rising night and day, 

the seed is springing up and growing in a way

we're not aware, for the earth is executing

without our doing a thing—first the blade, then the ear,

then the full grain within the ear. And when the crop is ripe,

one is sending for the sickle presently for the harvesting.

  

And to what shall we compare this Christ Consciousness? 

It’s like a mustard seed—

which when planted in the ground is the smallest

of all the seeds on earth. But once the seed is sown, 

it rises to become the greatest of all the greens,  

and puts forth its all-encompassing branches

where even the birds of the heavens take refuge.

.

Transcreating Christ:Parables of the Lamp and True Measure

Is a lamp placed within a measuring container

or underneath a full body recliner? 

Is it not set instead on a stand

in the heart of one's living room

where nothing is hidden except to be made aware

and nothing is secret but to be revealed?

 

The true measure with which one measures

is measured out to one and always more is given one,

for the one who has all, still more is further given.

But for the one who has nothing,

even that nothing one has

will surely pass away.

Transcreating Christ: The Parable of the Sower

In life the sower is always sowing

seeds of wisdom as natural as can be.

First seeds fall upon the highway of your world

and little birds of large appetite rumor it away.

Next seeds fall upon hard ground of human knowledge

where the soil is superficial but the grain appears to grow without delay,

yet since this earth has little depth of true intelligence,

the first clear dazzling light of day overwhelms the early growth,

and as these seedlings have no true roots, they wither.

Subsequently seeds descend among the weeds

where no compassion tends the soil

and thorns of great hostility chokes them all away.

Yet there comes a time seeds land among responsive ground

and bears its fruit to thirty times, one-hundred times,

ten-thousand times, this great awakening—

whoever has ears to hear, listen.

1704222310 or denial is the river

Once upon a time, she thought she was a person, and every now and then forgets she's not. She used to wonder why her god condemned the world to suffering violence and war. Now she knows there's other definitions for division.

She can't deny her being although she only uses such possessive pronouns in a manner of speaking about that which appears to matter. In order to be self-aware, one must first be unaware, and her earthly guardians, lovingly or otherwise, ensured she was.

Every now and then, she felt as if there was no then, as if a river were to suddenly appear within an Arizona desert. Then she read about her consciousness and knew she was that consciousness and consciousness is pure awareness being self-aware and that is that.

The grass is green. The sky is blue. The sun is yellow. I am being red. Every leaf is testament to that unknown and absolutely sweet Marie the wind is crying.

Not only is beauty truth and truth is beauty but red-winged blackbirds, cherry blossoms, orioles, and absolutely self-awareness. Nothing is as it appears to be said Alice in some laundromat at Second Street and Vine.

Twenty years of schooling and I never made the first shift, says Alice to Bob Dylan. There is nothing you can do about it said Alice to the caterpillar busy deconstructing its construction on the way to self-awareness.

Or is it just a butterfly she sees one day within a dream up high upon the blue ridge. Another day, another singular satori. One day a daughter comes from her own body and she begins to know the absolute significance of division in understanding non-duality.

Mind-training is just another name for deconstruction, a most earnest postmodernism. Deny the thought of being all you want but denial is the river.

1704211049 or revelation is bound to be

Being is open free universal and spontaneous but the world has taught me natural transformation is disastrous to my person. Earthquakes, floods, volcanoes and tornadoes. Lions, tigers, bears and other primal fears. It's all happening out of nowhere! This translation of the revelation is more neo-traditional than postmodern or reactionary.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki are nothing more than cherry blossoms. April is the crying of a child. August is a lion's roar. There is no difference. All you know is life. Every thought methinks is death. But I am the white whale. Or the walrus.

Transformation is to Tao as being is to pure awareness as an earthquake is to shut your mouth and dig it. Love is following the way of love and not some other way that looks like love. In division is beginning and the end. But the calculus of truth is unborn and resurrected.

Awareness hits you. There is no me but I am. Satori whiskey tango. What's wrong with nowhere? What's so good about our time together? Self-awareness self-awareness self-awareness.

And the magic of imagination seeing its foundation of conditioning is completely magical as it is. Imagine indoor plumbing on Mount Olympus! Belief is that nothing to fear we fear. Never mind the big bollocks. If you ask, who am I, I shall answer.

I was raised on Mad Magazine. I came of age with gonzo. Gonzo is to beat as seeing is to waking up. Electrical revelation is bound to be the very next thing.

Understand the change. Be awareness.

1704201500 or Tao alone informs one

uttered to you is the secret knowing of the absolute; it is just you, the secret knowing, actually speaking ~Kena Upanishad (tr-sr)

You can think about being but one can only be awareness.

The god you name is not the god one is.

The Tao that can be named is not the Tao that is.

Thinking about being is not knowing being; being is the only knowing.

That being doesn't know awareness but being is awareness

is the deepest knowing—call this self-awareness.

Listen. That Tao alone is truth, Tao alone informs one.

1704192335 or on bicycle eve

The mind is of Consciousness dividing Consciousness and Consciousness is even in the mind. But Consciousness is never of the mind.

The witness doesn't witness objects but divides oneself conceptually seeing separation like a mirror in perceiving that which can't be seen.

Please avoid the rabbit holes.

Hitting the wall hiking in the Whites, I begin to be druidic in a way, intuiting the trees to be the mountain that's no mountain that I am.

On the other hand, now I see my living room to be the stuff of rockbound waves and sky-wide ridges I am dreaming as a living room.

On Bicycle Eve, Consciousness is singing DNA to the XY of Zhuangzi real and pure.

Nothing is not me. Something else was never said.

Sometimes one has to flashback in order to go further, but going further isn't in the flashback.

Consciousness only needs to be altered when you're thinking you're not consciousness.

In the name of ten thousand summers of love upon this absolutely truthful altar bejeweled with the deconstructed flowers of beautiful beautiful consciousness…

1704171313 or raven isn't mad

You can't run from silence forever.

Belief can make the earth go flat.

The raven isn't mad—

it never wears a hat.

Time stands still for no dream.

Beyond the turtle and the rabbit is the way.

There is no finish line. There was no starter's gun.

Listen—nothing gold can say.