Epistle to Lucy

It was the day of the vernal equinox, it was the night of the super full worm moon, and all the eggs are balancing on the laser's edge of Tao. Look, mind cannot stare into such fire. Love does.

Accordingly, when mind is looking into fire, pain. When love is looking through that looking glass of Tao, self-awareness. So here's the story—lucid dreaming is all about the love of looking

and the world is only dreaming with the mind. Not to be too esoteric, the love of looking or looking with love is either yin or yang like Cold Mountain or Rumi or Lalla.

Deconstruction, devotion, and resurrection are demonstrative like gods, goddesses, and springtime for Ariel. The fine print—love is like a magnet to the mind, so charismatic, and mind appears to love to be a dream.

 

2007 Views of Fuji

Consciousness appears to arise from the material world but the material world is what consciousness descends to on its reflexive way to self-awareness. Figure it out.

As absolute awareness amplifies in universal consciousness unfolding in a dream-state kind of being like a lotus, no one asks an echo why it takes so long.

Here's the secret. The material world is made out of mind being dreamt by consciousness like thunder is to the lightning of omnipresent self-awareness.

1101 Ways of Loving Red-winged Blackbirds

I heard the first red-winged blackbirds of the year this afternoon although I didn’t see them. But then again sound is more the actual feeling; sight gives way to thought before the heart has even seen it. Similarly one only knows the absolute unknown by being it.

From out of what the mind calls nothing, spring is sounding the first deep crimson trills of golden self-awareness! For heart is just another name for being, presence, consciousness, I Am, spirit, god the son the universe and goddess, sole manifestation of the absolute unknown.

Listen, looking at the sun is just like talking Icarus but feeling the sun is being the sun is what science calls a black hole. For such is the transitive law of nature. If all is ultimately unknown, and all I know is that I am, then thirteen red-winged blackbirds.

In the Name of Consciousness

Render unto social conditioning survival but render unto consciousness consciousness—within which is the mirror where the dream of living is appearing. For love gives life to mind and not the other way around.

Basic conditioning is believing consciousness depends upon material economy. But consciousness is goddess! Everything appears within the space of consciousness but one believes the opposite because earth.

The earth is turning so believe in night and day. The earth is going up and down and so believe in seasonal affective disorders. Earth is going in a circle so believe in time and painted ponies going ying and yang.

Consciousness created Adam and Eve—deconstruction is only Old Testament. Consciousness is evolutionary self-awareness—this is the New Testament. Consciousness is consciousness. That is all.

Kalabadhi quoting Hallaj (tr-Ernst)

Even Consciousness Gets the Blues

These words have nothing to say and I'm not afraid to say it. It's not so much about the dreaming as it is the dreaming lucidly instead of dreaming as conditioned. 

The world is like a restless whirlpool of mind forgetting it's the current of the river—for the mind is this mirror in which that pure awareness is imagining my self-awareness.

If divine imagination is the software of self-awareness, then the world is just a bug. Listen, deconstruct with love. And meditate each toothache focusing on body-mind's evolutionary amplification 

as pure awareness being self-aware. Call this being individually universal but not indifferent. Further, love makes me smile and makes the ego go a certain way, and makes the square world 

go around and round, makes gravity go undivided and transformation going changeless and the song of the body electric goes absolute infinitude exclamation point! 

To the Lion Looking for the Veedon Fleece

Memories are born, consciousness just happens. Pure awareness being self-aware. Now is the myth of evolution made glorious reality. If February goes out like Mars, March goes out like springtime fools in following our bliss.

No one knows what the grass knows because the grass is growing self-aware. Call it the absolute, the great unknown, the silver screen of pure awareness, golden voice of goddesses and gods, the pearl or what not. I am that.

It's die before you die or spring before sprung, like rhyme before reason or sing before sung, and Basho is always the closer. Zhuangzi says my present paradox is an instant proverb. Well we all shine on sings Julian of Norwich.

Mythologies point to consciousness only. Religion is like the waiting room. The great awakening is being unborn. Enlightenment is absolute. Between death and sacrifice, duality and universe, theory and love, the seasons are turning, turning turning, going beyond.