Thursday, January 29, 2009

 


The magician came to me today, between the thorn tree and the tree thorns. He spun a somersault and landed upright in the air. Greetings to you he said with an enormous grin, our journey together can finally begin.

He held a stone as soft as silk that flowed like mercury in all directions and yet remained contained in his hand. Do you see how this stone looks so solid? Do you not look at this stone, kick it in the dirt and not even begin to see its true essence.
You have separated it from yourself by arbitrary labels that you assign to it, so you can never really experience what it is beyond the flatness of words.
Do you see the cloud that paints portraits for your eyes to feast upon? The clouds whose shapes lull you into the eternal lullaby.
Do you hear the wind, the spirit and voice of truth that speaks to your soul at all times?
Do you see the sun throbbing with power and strength and see that your existence is his existence? Do you see the moon and feel her love shining in the silver luminous mist
And the stars, do you see how they exist because you exist.

And his grin faded and was replaced with a loving frown, a frown that understood the reservations and behavior patterns. Do you not see that what arises are not who you are. And yet you cannot stop the arising. Do you see that it is suffice for you to simply see, simply be and within that realise the truth. That you have done nothing wrong. That you are not playing games. That you are nothing but innocence as is everyone else. And the lessons you create keep you into guilt. Because if you are not good enough then you must get it wrong. And to get it wrong means you must make mistakes. And that means that you are judged and therefore need to seek forgiveness. And above all it means you are separate.

His smile appeared again and still the stone flowed in all directions around his hand, forming, melting, forming. Yes you are beginning to see and that is why I am here stretched into the branches of this tree. And as this tree is shedding more and more clothing every day. So are you. And soon your foliage will be stripped and you will be standing entirely naked, vulnerable and yet trusting that ……………you are not sure what, but somewhere in the depths of your being and in rising consciousness you are aware that it is all as it should be.

And what will sustain you he hears you asking in the silence of the noise. He answers: The sun, the moon, the stars, and the earth. And for those who can look at you naked, unadorned and see the fruit in the barrenness – this is what will sustain you. For you shall hear music in every footstep, you will see Life in every face; you will see truth in every situation. So let me beckon you to awaken to the presence that is all pervasive. Let me encourage you to leave the dream you have been so intent on. Because you will always have something to defend, something to fear, something to love. Put is all down, all eons of defensiveness you have worn like armour ………….When it arises, don’t respond. Don’t defend. Smile, breathe deeply. Ask who am I? And ask and ask and ask until it becomes apparent what you are not.

And when I looked again, the magician had disappeared. On the ground lay a solid looking brown stone. Picking it up, the wind blowing my hair, the sun bleaching my hair, the moon pale in the daylight, the tree stretched to eternity. I put the rock to my lips and kissed its cold warmth and gave thanks for the opportunity to walk away from and disengage from the belief that anything needs to be different from what is right now.
………………………
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Saturday, January 24, 2009

 


"You have been bitten by the deadly black serpent of the ego
and you therefore consider yourself as the doer.
Drink the nectar of the faith that you are not the doer
and be happy"
Ashtavakra
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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

 


Painting my face with dust scratched off the rocks.
Facing the sun.
No longer a smooth healed anglo saxon.
No longer the desires of a westernised being.
Jj you asked me to write about living in Africa.
Sometimes images say so much more.
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Tuesday, January 13, 2009

 


God in the belly laugh of silence.

God came to town last week. He left several traces of his visit

I had heard of a young, unhurried man who had come amongst us. Devoid of anxiety he made himself at home. An artist of note, he spent time sketching at the coffee shop, and gardening at Temenos and only he knows what else. It was some time before I met him, as it always has to be when one meets God in such a clear form.

Mama Susan was in a playful mood. Expansive. She wanted to walk under the bulging moon, and be tickled by the breeze. Her sons wanted to walk with her, so off they set. Way past bedtime, but then it was weekend . Sage-Liam had a long piece of bamboo, but to him it was his pet long necked, leaf-eating dinosaur. Cian was a T-Rex. He was really enjoying the image of this beast, running up to something and pretending he was going to damage it and laughing when I pulled him away. And so we meandered down the blue gum lane when I heard a hammering. A hammering coming from a grove. As we drew closer I saw an outline of a head. I thought it was the potter, Paul, but upon closer inspection saw that it was this aspect of God called Neil. We introduced ourselves by name, and I introduced him to the children as God. They did not question this at all.

He was carving a piece of stone to resemble a calf. He felt that this would give solace to the cow that was in some distress, having recently had her babe removed.
It looked like a calf which amazed me. My efforts at carving were interesting in their failure. But here he had carved a calf. We went to show it to mama bovine.
Cian and he decided they needed to move this gentle beast to where the grass was a bit thicker. Perhaps that was part of her discontent. As soon as they had untied her she bolted. With God and Cian holding on her chain she shed her bovinity and ran. God held on and Cian after a few seconds let go. I laughed like a madwoman. Full throated, full bellied. Eventually, she was reharnessed.

We stopped at the village pub. Sit on the verandah due to the kids. Soon several people who were on their way somewhere had stopped and joined in.
God told the boys how he came into town on an ostrich called Streaky Spar. I could not repeat the story because the way it was told made it a one-off. Only I and the others, who heard it, will be able to journey into the minds archives and recess it, and re-enjoy it. Belly laugh after belly laugh continued.
We left the watering hole.

And wandered through the darkened streets of McGregor now in silence. Only once before in my life (apart from my partner) have I been with a male where there was no mask, no persona, no subtlety, and no fear. Not wanting anything from each other, it slipped into a realm of dream quality. No agendas. Our shadows stretching us into giants and diminishing us into gnomelets. Dogs always a few steps ahead. The long neck leaf-eating dinosaur safely in Sage’s hand. Cian still doing his T-Rex jive. God and I walking. No exchange of address, or any extension on this perfect walk.
A change of directions, a nod of gratitude. And God walked into the distance.

And in McGregor, he left such simple reminders of his presence, the trussed up tree, the stone calf, the streaky spar story and some quality that has remained that can simply not be put into words.
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Saturday, January 10, 2009

 

If this is the dying of the day
may we all shine with radiance
in gratitude for the miracle of life
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Thursday, January 8, 2009



in a moment
where the mind reaches relative silence
the light captivates and dances its own dance
energy circulating in orbits
yellow and white
mingling
with spurs of elliptical spheres.


transfixed
not yet transformed
witnessing this
with the observer still present.

moths flying into the
illuminated grid
not able to penetrate
to the core of energy
yet not content to remain outside.

willing to die
for a touch of that luminescence

how much like a moth
Am I?

Friday, January 2, 2009



Day 6.
Not knowing what to do,
I pray
But not having a god
makes it meaningless
No longer believing in a
supreme deity that honours
good over evil
or right over wrong
or even gives a fundamental fig
for basic human rights
i turn my back on the abrahamic gods
and contact the life force
animating the tree in front of me
the life force pushing air into these lungs
the life force that i am
and surrender this pain and this mess
to that which must surely understand.

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