First day in Holland

Stories from my trip: So happy to be back here in Venwoude again, Beauty of the land, smiles, & laughter old friends reunited many sweet conversations, just few words of love meeting itself. Saw Nynke for a moment, she is so beautiful, dropping off her sister Dotty who also is such a joy. Hung out and chatted, but felt both tiered and aware of this deep wanting that was just starting to come home, so subtly, so long in my body. Took a nap, so jet-lagged but happy in the sensation and happy with it.

The Invitation to notice what/how "it" (the personality habits) show up or reveal themselves in silence, and sensation in the body. i begin to glimpse how shut down awareness of my emotional body is. . .. the opportunity to see these habits appear in awareness, in the body, and release the story of them being mine, personal or about me.

In the past pain was the most familiar, yet love or enjoyment was always present underneath every breath. The old (seemingly) personal habits of recycling trauma, yet, here, now it seems as i can sit with it in subtle gentleness, letting go of all "my" identity & beliefs.

This sweet surrender, the enjoying of the unfolding moment may be conceptualized in thought, speech or imagination, but only when gently embodied, kinetically is it actually realized as totally impersonal. And from there is no preference, just that.

The "I" unconsciously views others as threats and instinctively, unconsciously, contraction arises and then thought steps in to explain, help and solve a problem that is in root, merely a movement that can, eventually, if we are fortunate, be seen as an expression of the sympathetic neural system, human, but never personal, and likely, to not be of use or benefit to self or humanity.

Noticing

 

The contrast is always obvious

When trying to speak the truth

Between love and confusion

With only silence left to say

 

It does not really matter

If you are near or far away

There is love here always

Each and every day.

 

So send the wild e-mails

Filled with humor or dismay

Nothing left to meet them

Like clouds that fly away

 

What is real you cannot see

Not for words to ever say

That’s as close I come baby

I was never far away

 

You know when here with this

That knowing cannot  go away

what's left after love

is why i cry, might as well laugh

as well, what the hell

 

So let us kiss each others tears

And smile and cuddle and stay

This is the only moment left

I’m only living for this day.

learning to feel

Last night was really painfull in a far less traumatic way than many disillusions have been in the past. So it’s an ending and I feel bad to hurt, and also because I love and enjoy. It is really beyond any of our choices or knowing. It’s funny to feel guilty for loving. Yet how can I apologize or feel bad for what I value most in this, that we call life?

It is clear that my dishonesty did not help. I ask myself? could i have been more honest and direct when I was in Holland and or when I got home, it was not a choice at the time. I was processing and seeing what moved in me, and yet, it’s clear and true, that I knew that desire was present, and again, at that moment I jumped over my “knowing” or voice of consciousness. It is almost like I wish it was not. Like I wish somehow I could be happy and sated with anyone, even as I am not. As if the "I"could ever find satisfaction. This interest in something more than that, in God, or Truth, sharing and living that interest is actually greater than me or anyone. And I see that there is no justification, or explanation or excuse for dishonesty or causing pain. I feel guilt, and also freedom and enjoy the honesty as it is here now.

This is both horrifying and beautiful. Both joy and pain and deliverance from resisting sensation. There is the habit of looking back, thinking there was an opportunity for choice. That there is someone to blame, usually me or someone else, either or, both. The opportunity to stand still is noticed, feel the ground under my feet. Be still. Ask who is needing anything. Ask who is aware of the need. Stop, be quiet. Breathe.

Sunday afternoon musing

When I awaken, or even stir into awareness, fragments of dreams, no different than life flutter through memory leaving the odor of life and “doing”. Somehow, it seems all part of life and no longer a separate function of waking or sleeping, just of flow of thoughts and images across the screen of life.

Last night was interesting; I was restless and could not seem to sleep, my stomach seemed to pain me and then I just surrendered to the sensation and it slipped into something totally different, I can’t say what except just sensation. There was no longer pain or belief, just naked sensation not even particularly localized in “me” it was similar to peace or bliss, yet still with some sense of localized sensation. Interesting, I slept.

Yet what do I mean by “I”? There is no answer, there is only space for the question to flow, open, and vibrate into just that.

Yet what is waking and sleeping? Compared to silence?

Here is some pointing, from Shakespeare’s Macbeth:

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”

Some disquieting commentary from a western perspective, often confused with an existential angst or a nihilistic viewpoint that is interpreted with a negative connotation, yet still pointing toward a profound and open truth, that behind all action and thought is space and emptiness, the awareness of the transitory nature of all matter, and all action.

It has been a long and somewhat tortured road from this adolescent knowing and rejection of hypocrisy and self directed violence to a calm and accepting place of nothingness that is more capable of response and love without agenda or needing, simply spontaneous movement of life, expressed through this body.

Quote

Is there really any duality?
Because you believe it, there is
Are the sun's rays separate
from itself?

There is no creator of the world,
No sustainer, and no destroyer.
Everything happens spontaneously.

The manifestation of
consciousness is itself duality.

Be convinced that you are separate from the senses
and that their experience is not your experience.

Pure consciousness has never had an experience.

Nisargadatta Maharaj

Trust

If only this would sink in

Perhaps consciousnesses will write through this

If I invite myself aside

Something will appear

In this letting go

Let trust be your dearest friend

So you are never alone

And in your heart

You are finally home.

Truth

This gentle beauty

Radiant

shining outward

form and soul

into life