201021 civics 701

dropping body-mind is not politics as usual.

on the kali-krishna scale of civics, where kali wants to personally finish the mad violence of the world as soon as possible and krishna feels that love is doing exactly that, i'm stuck in the middle with shiva only.

if that called absolute awareness is naturally omniscient, then the absolute noumenon is self-aware, naturally,

where is is being, and belief is being materially unaware for the purposes of doing things naturally in that reflexive yin yang kind of three way.

indigenous footnotes

there is no separation between the land and sea or sky according to my indigenous knowledge

i've heard that to the hopi, the navajo are cowboys

i've read that to the navajo, cowboys represent the canyon of death

it's not about how long you've lived upon the land. it's that the land is living in you

all appears in consciousness

Experiential Nonduality

Separation was the first noun of our conditioning. The universe is verbal. 

Om, if consciousness is the expression of the absolute, onomatopoeia!

Division is the first and only mathematical function. There is no going forth and multiply without it.

And addition and subtraction are mere afterthoughts.

Consciousness is the water, this psychosomatic apparatus is the pump, self-awareness is the fountain. 

Experiential nonduality is actually a closed system. There is no other. 

Experiential nonduality is bound to be the very next phase. 

Seeing through the dream is the astronomical dawn of awakening.

If nirvikalpa samadhi is the sunrise, I’m like civil twilight. 

Only consciousness is knowledge. Knowledge in the dream isn’t knowledge. It’s just more dream. 

But all is not a dream. This is the common error of personal deconstruction without being, love.

So deep within its mental deconditioning, the so-called nihilist cannot feel it anymore. 

Do you like good music? That sweet soul music. I am, I am, I am.

Ode to Instant Shiva

What’s all Greek to me is Chinese to the Greeks. Consciousness only is the revolution! Words belong to the empire.

There are no new ideas. There are only old ideas dressed in new languages. This is why no one speaks Old English anymore.

Even Einstein couldn’t think his way to a new paradigm. Enlightenment is sudden. Of course one can’t step in the same river twice. I am the river!

Zeno’s paradox is not a riddle. Love is the answer and I am unquestionable! Which came first? Absolute awareness or self-awareness.

Space-time is another name for body-mind. Literally. As to this day, separation has yet to be proved. Do not hold your breath.

Leaves fall in golden autumn, trees go down in microbursts, earth erodes in ashes, the sun fades suddenly to black. Now breathe out. 

notes on chinese lyric poetry (shih)

1. beginning with book of odes (shih ching) in 6th-c bc (to 10th-c bc) as 4 character lines (although use of interjection and nonsense characters could mean 2 or 3)

2. at this time, characters were one syllable but later sometimes 2

3. characters:

a. noun characters do not indicate number (thus no singular or plural)

b. verb characters do not indicate tense.

c. characters were not used in context of a picture poem.

4. shih form kind of fades away until it reemerges in later or eastern han dynasty (2nd c) as 5 or 7 character (each with full weight)

5. each line is a sentence. couplets are connected via parallelism and end rhyme between couplets, but no connecting words

6. caesura at 2 in 5 and 4 in 7, creates 2,3 or 4,3 units

7. anon Nineteen Old Poems is earliest most influential 5 shih

8. ts'ao chih (192-232) 1st major poet of chien-an period and 1 of top 3 poets in pre-tang era according to burton watson (see tao chien and hsieh ling-yun)

9. in tang time, shih undergoes a formal development. divided into 2 groups.

a. old style (ku-shih) with no fixed rules of number of lines or rhyme scheme

b. new style (chin-t'i-shih) in 2 types limited in rhymes scheme and number of lines

1) regulated verse (lu-shih) with 8 lines, parallelism in most lines, and elaborate tonal patterns

2) broken-off lines (chueh-chu) like regular verse but a single quatrain

10. in sung times begins the practice of 'rhyme following' (tz'u-yun or ho-yun) in which one composes a new poem utilizing the same rhyme or rhyme words as a previous one, usually responding to a poem of a friend or visitor. when copying one's own poems, it's called tieh-yun.

Bhakta Story

All emotions are love diminished. Memo to me: don’t deny emotions in some nihilistic way. 

Either deconstruct the thoughts behind them or melt into the love as one directly undiminished.

The former is the error of all religions including scientific materialistic atheism. The latter are jnana or bhakta. 

In the nineties, nature was my lover. She drove me like a Cadillac. I embraced her with my Frenchman Bay.

My nineteenth nervous breakdown was in 1984 when the Thought of God scared the Dying Jesus out of me.

In late September of 2005, a great blue heron lifted from a glacial island boulder in the middle of a cloud-colored pond like revelations in a vision quest.

Two years later, I am slowly climbing one thousand sacred stairs of Yamadera where Basho writes within his Oku no Hosomichi, stillness and cicadas.

Meeting in the River of Stars

As being is in the blood, self-awareness is its fountain spurting from the mind.

My insides are turning inside-out as the sea engulfs the universe in the curl of its crashing electromagnetic waves.

Every object is in the mind and the mind is in my being reflecting this non-objective omnipresence.

From black hole to self-awareness is just a big bang away; suns are falling back to black like saturn rockets

falling back to earth as this Apollo is forever pointing and always moving towards that moon in which I drown.

1. consciousness is glass. mind is lens and mirror.

2. the gospel according to the ouroboric universe.

3. in the name of the dreamstate, universal being, and that absolute self-awareness (by knowing i am the unknown, the unknown is fully known).

4. gimme shelter in the storm.

5. Li Bai drinking alone (with the moon, his shadow, & 43 translators)

Consciousness Is The Cure

Lightning

Just because you may believe it doesn’t make it so even if it is. Are we on the road to Damascus or just slouching more towards Bethlehem?

These days of viruses both biological and psychological, it’s no longer one day at a time; it’s stopping everything—to be timeless.

As one attains nirvana through samsara, one arrives at self-awareness via dream.

Revelation is the lightning of the absolute striking consciousness. Thunder is the inspiration of consciousness talking to consciousness. Call it self-awareness.

Sometimes I live in quiet desolation, sometimes I have a great notion. I forgot what I was going to say. Wait for it.

Myth is where attention is placed. Dream is where attention is misplaced. I’m giving it fifty-fifty he’s faking it or fifty-fifty he dies.

Thunder

Although it’s source is known, no one knows the cause of thunder.

One is to consciousness as zero is to personal deconstruction.

Everything appears in consciousness and that which doesn’t is its source.

All one really knows is consciousness and the rest that’s not unknown is belief.

And consciousness is god from the point of view of the mind for it’s the only unborn concept.

If belief is disease, consciousness is the cure. As belief is viral, consciousness is the cure. If consciousness is the cure, consciousness is the cure.

2020 Happening

You know the universe is one but still pretend there’s multiplicity because we are addicted to the other. Knowing there is only one is not a thought to be believed in some philosophy or god forbid religion but experiential only. For the self so loved this self-awareness that it sent its being into matter to be resurrected.

Although legitimate experience records the happening into memory, the happening does not originate in memory. The happening in memory turns into thought. The happening is not a thought. There are no words for Tao. Being was happening before memory built its empire and being is still happening now.

In this feature, self-awareness is happening. What’s happening in the Buddha over there? I remember when Monument Valley was the playground of the gods. Turning attention from memory for a moment and resting it on the infinite eternity of being is like self-awareness. I am sitting in Death Valley. I am standing in the Garden of the Gods.

Mapping Self-Awareness

A funny thing happens on the way to self-awareness. This axe of thought begins to think that it's the hand which wields it.

This fall of intentional tool to chaotic weapon is comic from the point of view of the hand of the heart but tragic as seen through the eye of the weapon.

Separation is the weapon. Division is the ammunition. The universe is the target. Compassion is the witness. Love is acting for the defense. There's nothing wrong with the tool. 

Primordial conditioning sharpens it. Self-awareness requires a razor's edge. That the mind is conditioned from the big beginning to usurp the absolute proves its innocence.

Divine imagination is the mythical map of kundalini thunder emanating from the mystical lightning of the absolute black whole.

footnotes

I like dreaming. I love waking up.

Consciousness is the only knowledge. Only the unknown knows this.

There is no self-awareness without the molecular structure of pink cadillac granite.

Mind and no mind. Manifest and unmanifest. Knowledge and knowing.

The power of three. Positive, negative, and neutral. Love, compassion, and forgiveness.

2020 Consciousness

Consciousness is the big bang. Consciousness is the immaculate conception beyond the yin and yang of wave and particle or sex.

Consciousness is the only knowledge and what the world calls knowledge is like dividing the indivisible and ciphering the value of exactly two.

Everything appears in consciousness even all the vain absurd attempts to prove appearances create the consciousness in which they are appearing.

My projection is my mirror. The sixth matriarch calls it Chinatown. Attention paradise the fall arrives in just three days.

It's not the goldenrod sitting in the sun but the ragweed in the shadows making tears. It's not the transformation that hurts but believing in the form.

Last year on this date I was in Avon on the Outer Banks watching the silvery walls of a hurricane above the tumbling surf.