A River Of Love Will Pour

We must look at the impact of our conditioning
If we are too untether ourselves from it
To find what is there prior to conditioning
And what is more real than conditioning
Is a deep and often painful inquiry
Because we start to realize who we are not
And we see clearly where we give ourselves away
And where we lost our innocence
We see all the beliefs and voices we have inherited
That are not ours
This inquiry may break our hearts wide open
But don’t worry, from this heartbreak
Will pour a river of love
That will nourish new growth in ways
Previously impossible to imagine

There is so much more to the human experience
Than is offered by conditioning
But first we must first loosen its steely grip.

with hands and heart open

we spend our days
pulling our old wounded self around
like an old bag of stuff
trying to run away into the future
but, like a dark shadow,
no matter how fast we run,
there it is, always with us…

turn, i say, turn and meet whatever is there
whoever they are, whatever they want,
it’s always love calling you
stop running away
and turn, softly, with open hands
and welcome your own darkness
no fixing, no story, no reason, no blame
just the open hands of acceptance
welcome whatever comes
whatever the old pain
let it scream and wail and rage against life
just stay with hands open

by and by, sooner or later
you may begin to notice
nothing behind you,
the bags will be gone
you will be traveling free and easy
untethered by what was
and now fully available to meet life
with no agenda or expectations
freedom is presence
presence has let go of the bags
and walks with hands and heart open.

we are surrounded by mystery

we are surrounded by mystery
behind us and in front of us
at both sides we face the void
the absolute unknown
the eternal emptiness

no wonder we huddle together
preoccupied with what we have
or don’t have
obsessed with power
and love

it is a brave soul
who ponders such things
who stares into the abyss
who does not shrink in fear

without even knowing it
each of us carries
an existential terror
that we are alone
surrounded by eternity
a tiny blip in the silence
a teardrop in an ocean

but we cannot face our deepest nightmare
so we turn away
and create a world
of distraction

oh! human
you are the most puzzling of creatures
blessed with such brilliance
you waste your time
on pettiness

turn, and turn again
to face the unknown
you cannot truly know life
until you face death.

Born to Do Nothing

Terrified of meaninglessness
We create ourselves
As the pinnacle of life
We built a world
That uses doing
As being
Because we need meaning
But we were born
To do nothing
Just enjoy existence
And take care of our bodies
And our souls
To look after each other
And to bathe in the innocence
Of love’s sweet fragrance
All this that we have created
We have done in our own image
It is a monster
A machine
That eats everything
And everyone
And deludes us all
Into thinking there is meaning in it

I am so sorry to tell you
There isn’t

To rest as a speck in eternity
Surrounded by forever
Infinite distance and time on all sides
To know this, to feel it and to live it
And to maintain some composure
As the waves of awareness
Flood into and through you
To be innocent
And pure of heart
That is the only meaning
I can find.

turn to face the broken

if you expect these words to be positive
look away
i am not concerned with being positive
i am for what is real
and that means sometimes
turning to face the broken
and the messy
it means looking deep into
the heart of the darkness
i would rather face the agony of the truth
than the pretence of the lie
for in turning around
to meet sorrow and suffering
our steely hearts may break
and from that broken place
may pour the milk of human kindness
and without kindness
there is nothing but
an empty existence.

healing the endless wound

be wary of believing all that you think
most of the thoughts in your head
come from other people
you just recorded them many years ago
when you were very impressionable
and they all seemed so wise

but if you really look now
you may see that those very people
were lost and wounded
and they themselves
had thoughts that were not their own

the human cycle of ancestry,
left unconscious and unaware
goes on and on
it’s like a wound
that runs through each generation

and the only way to stop
this endless wounding
is to be the one who says
‘the buck stops here with me.’

it is a great responsibility
and a hard burden
but your liberation, your awakening
is not only for yourself
but somehow this energy of true liberation into love
sends ripples of healing
backwards into time and resolves
all past wounds that may still be trapped somewhere

we are either destined to endlessly repeat the pattern
of our ancestry
or we are destined to awaken from it.

i awakened from it
and my liberation into love’s unconditionality
has become my greatest gift to the world
and to my family, whether they know it or not.

be kind to your experience

you find me in a moment of sadness
when my heart aches
for those lovers wrenched apart
by fate’s cruel hand

life can be
so very mean
it makes some
thick skinned and they try and
tough it out

but it doesn’t work

we all have to soften eventually
so do it now
better to soften up now
than at the end

be kind to your experience
and hold yourself
gently and lovingly
as you would a child

i can’t see any other way
to get through this.

two terrors

i must reluctantly confess
i have two terrors between which
i swing like a pendulum
the terror of existence
and the terror
of non-existence

i am a man
and yet knowing
the trap is of
his own making

this is existential agony
and the only answer
is to stay perfectly
still and listen to the sound
of what is.

face to face with god

and thus it came to pass
one day
that each and every story,
no matter how tall
and how implausible
no matter how real and convincing,
stopped working

the stories no longer
eased the pain
of existence
the stories no longer
offered some healing balm
they simply
dropped to the floor
in front of him
and ineffective

and there he stood
naked and empty
face to face
with god

there was nothing to say
nowhere to go
the abyss below
and eternity above

a great silence
consumed him
that felt like death,
and terror haunted him

yet he stayed
exactly where he was
unmoving and still
the dark night
wanting everything
every single thing
he thought he was
all his stories
all his pain, excuses, reasons
all his love and light,
a black hole
consuming the whole
of his universe

and he willingly
allowed himself
to be pulled
into the darkness

there is a sweetness
that you taste
when the self dies
it cannot be explained 
but can be compared to
that feeling you get when
you no longer care
about anything at all
and it makes you so happy you
start dancing.