Let us cry our tears
For the coming and going
Holding the heartache
Close to our chest
Surrendering our resistance
To the inevitable
Not turning away
But bearing it all
Even as it breaks us wide open
The weepers, those who can weep,
Not just for those they love
But for all the coming and going
They bridge the worlds
For really there are not two
But one appearing as two
And the weepers dissolve the illusion.
We have become done up
Some like tightly coiled springs
Others more loose and relaxed
But still, all done up
This doing-up is our conditioning
Our introduction and familiarization
With what we now call the matrix
It seems random what kind of doing-up we are subject to
But of this we can be sure
As soon as we catch a glimpse
Of something more intrinsic, more true,
Than the doing-upness
Something is set in motion
A search, a journey, a seeking, a longing,
An ever increasing awareness
That something is not right about the doing-upness
And that will bring us to the path of undoing
And what a path it is!
Those who does not know themselves
Cannot discern the difference
Between the snake oil seller
And the wise one
And will often follow the snake oil seller
Because their persuasive techniques
Appeal to the unmet emotions
Still held in the unexamined and unconscious system
Wisdom is not quite so easily fooled
We are in the intensity of those times.
Presence is a state of being
The ego doesn’t understand
You cannot be present
Without being rooted in silence
And silence means the end of ego.
He or she
Who can master
The agitated self
The obsessive self
The righteous self
The self that seeks power
The aggrandized self
The arrogant one
The worthless one
The self that imagines it is special
And the one that imagines it is not
The self that is constantly at war
Is free
And an asset to the liberation of others
He or she who is mastered by the self
Is a slave to their own ignorance
And a danger to the liberation of others
Mastery of self
Has nothing to do with force
And everything to do with
Surrendering the ego
To love’s all consuming fire
Without humility
The rampaging ego
Will rule the earth
Creating endless division
And feeding on
The fear it creates
Inner freedom loves
The freedom of others.
Leave your bags
At the water’s edge
Go naked and empty
Dive in to the deep
Let the water cleanse
Your energy body
Do not look back
Neither look forward
Be where you are
Enter the moment
Between the in-breath
And the out-breath
Allow eternity itself
To be revealed to you
By dying to all
That is temporary
Be still
And walk
To the busy market
Return with your basket full
And your mind free.
A collective that cannot share its sorrows
Cannot sit together in its grief and suffering
And see each one in the eyes of the other
A people so lost in individuation
It loses its humanity
Has not lost its mind
It has lost its heart
Forgotten itself
Fallen under a spell
The task of the restless one
Is to remember their own heart
Uncover it from all that has covered it
And then to shine it out
So others may also remember theirs
That is all we can really do
The rest is up to the divine.
We search for ways to express ourselves
But we are the creative expression itself
God paints us, sings us, moves us
How easy it is for us to take ownership
Of that which doesn’t really belong to us.
The heart longs
To sing it’s song
In the morning
And in the evening
Whether that song
Is of joy or sorrow
It is not the song that matters
But the expression
Into the universe
The mind says no
You’re not good enough
The song is lame
It’s too revealing
You are too sensitive
Too vulnerable
To be singing such things
You listen to the mind
But over time
The frustration is immense
The blocking of natural desire
To sing your unique song
Starts to kill you
Or make you depressed
You may have even forgotten
You had a song to sing
Because you are now distracted
By all the others things
That have gone wrong
As a consequence
Of forgetting to sing your song
But wait!
Friend, it is never too late
To sing your song
To give expression
To your uniqueness
And I’m not talking about
Mouthing from your ego
I’m talking about
Saying your blessed name
Into the eternal ocean
From your soul.
As I ran in the silence of the early dawn
Held by the emptiness of mournful piano
An infinite sorrow came upon me
Causeless and peaceful
It was without limit
Soft and almost imperceptible
And inside it
Was a kind of exquisite ecstasy
None of this needed any explanation or inquiry
No holding on to it
As though it were life itself
The air, consciousness, love
I was there, in eternity,
As eternity, a moment in time
A witness and a drop in the ocean
I may never recover
Neither would I want to.
