it lies at the core of each of us..
the root..is the appearance of
fundamental separation arriving
soon after birth
and continuing strongly..or weakly..
in life..until it doesn't..
ego is the modern name given to
this primal experience which
is a necessity for health and growth..
ego reality is that of the body
as observer of that outer world..
which is our cultural consensus
our view of things..most of us seem to
live and die in this unquestioned
consensus of who we are..
ego unleashed can become more than
positive personal identity..a tool for
a unique self engaging a troubled world..
the ego can compound the suffering of
separation..reaching for any means
to end the suffering..which increases
our dangers..dangers to self and others..
the only solution and remedy
lies close at hand..yet distant it seems
in our consensus reality..
we must identify the ego's reality
as insufficient for a life well lived
and recognize that it simply veils
something much more:
an identity unbounded and filled
with  peace and grace...

fear's great desire
to stand alone
accompanying
stealthily in our tasks
advice sublime
is to enfold our fear
heart absorbing
finding then
strength and joy
new tasks
transformed

hope
she said is
the thing with feathers
perched and singing
without words..

words must surely
be deeply hidden
within that song..
can we locate
another perch..?

and ask the feather
what are your words
and your song..?
the words we find
it's shape does bind..

here are the
sharp connectors and barbs..
barbules and hooklets
all of these
to hold a feather form..

and what of a song..?
a central shaft with ending quill
guides nutrition and light..
sacred texts penned
and that majestic flight..

hope extends...

(with appreciation for
Emily Dickinson's
poem)

ancient advice
for meal consumption..
tending livestock first
will bid well..
subdue their hunger
that part
of our soul..
food then satiates
tasted by senses
with flavor sublime
in pineal unity...

barely hold frazzled wire
no obstacle now
with intention lacking
this former boundary
condition..
But now these elderly posts
seem quaint with beauty
beauty acknowledging
separation as
temporary thought...

Brightness
radiance
exposing
form and shade
The shutter
trapping the energy
of a moment
A Moment
never to reappear
Creation.
Filtering.

Bare tree branches..
failed filters of morning light..
water restriction headlines...

On our many pathways

We look for the endpoint

Which defines..we think

A lifting endearment

In itself our worthy wish..

But no..satisfaction fades

To a new endpoint which

Seems the new real thing..

Until..the endpoint is

Revealed as..yet one more

Corpse...



See Gospel of Thomas

(56) Jesus says:

“Whoever has come to know the world has found a corpse.

And whoever has found (this) corpse, of him the world is not worthy.”

Clarity seems
to be missing in the
Clutter of inner traffic..
The clutter loudly insists
When we strive to
Escape or remove..

Somehow
the need arises to
Recognize Clarity as foremost
Lurking behind all clutter
And allowing the clutter to
Dance its short dance on
Clarity's bright stage...

Two or three
gathered
or more..
tribes and nations
families
June lilac petals
the universe..
Each is searching
for illusive identity..
Then into our
organs and cells
the joining somehow
of local and large..

Quietly listening now
to holo-gram whispers
from each and all..
all contains each
and each all..
Whispers ask us
to find ourselves
on roadways with
two destinations
always arriving
and departing from
ports of call:
Each and All...

A reminder
this morning
of scheme forgotten..
covering one's eyes
(children know)
on occasions needing
sudden escape..
into that closet
or deep cellar..
quick trip away
a moment
enough for
laughing recovery..
for the Advanced
in their journey
finding a glow
all is together
in that concealed
instant flash...

We are not that which we think we are..
If we do not know the true nature of thought
thought will always deceive..
Most seem to identify themselves with their
thoughts and perceptions..these limiting lens
find limiting identities..and suffering..
and lives of quiet desperation..
So..evidently..we must change our lenses
vastly expanding our views
finding..at last..the identity which
we have always owned...

back then and
now
wishes for fire
to burn and break
the reality at hand..
a reality turned away
self-absorbed
frightful black caverns..
but then a caution
for greater patience
infinite patience..
advice rendered that
greatest revelation
appears now in our
cataclysmic dark...

This is the imposition
of practices rooted in
all seeking..
whether seeking falls
in Sunday church
in Monday yoga
or Tuesday webinar..
please honor your seeking
yet know what you seek
is always here now..before
fixing yourself...

from a personal "i"
which occupies our days..
so many schedules and accounts
to be settled..
it has long been so
that our i seems stolen
by habits and chores..

one morning
we might float away
to observe from a distance..
an out-of-body excursion
in which our personal i
morphs as I..

solidity spreads and softens
and we find without effort
a new I..which all have
sought..lifelong..but
beneath habits and chores
are darkly concealed.

as autumn dawns
her Friend in
simultaneous departure
and these words
arise from white
naming cooler sun
shrinking days and
shimmering leaves to
accompany her Friend
in one fluctuation
of season's end
and beginning...**

a blue heron's departure...

In a camera
focusing creates boundaries
and delineation..
Similarly Consciousness which
contains all things in potential
freely veils its infinite potential
to engage a focusing on
landscapes and persons..
The pearl of truth
is that we can experience
a defocusing to reveal
our own Self identity..
And then focus again
on landscapes and persons
in a revolutionary way..
While appearing the same
these objects now
express the reality
of their defocused home...

It is quiet
now..
but her voice
her singing
her robed
presence
in lakeside
memory remains..
In our quiet
we remember
her courage
seeking with us..
our grasping
and glimpses
in our
morning sun..
for her now
in ecstasy
that mountain
shadow
as Light
shines anew...

These are people
From the past
Appearing to gaze
Into our present..
We know some
Dates and places but
Not much else..
We must  be satisfied
With their gaze now
A unity of eyes
As their gift of plenty...

A religion reflection..
Immersed as we are in
brambles and thickness
knowing well the trees of
cliched forest and trees..
Each tree quite alone..
But for this moment
let the cliche speak:
Please find a clearing
experience a Self removed
from clustered beliefs
about separate trees..
Make your Discovery
then return
to the trees..
Find them shining
as real Trees...

We live with
much forgetting..
morning in-sight
fades with the
grasping day..
hourly demands
split and cover..
yet is life
enriched
when we find
re-membering
springing from
dark ground of
forgetting...

Two sides of a coin really..
Yet..with our birth
separation shows up
and seemingly at least
a curtain is drawn
concealing our Freedom..
The separation adventure
extracts a high price..
something seems missing:
the Freedom we knew..
Separation starts searching
for the lost Freedom
intuited as close
but perceived as far..
For how long..?
Searching in wrong places
until Remembering appears
and our discovery:
Remembering is Freedom
dissolving our Forgetting..
Remember that coin...?

the bible was cited:
words of law and obligation..
a constricted justification for
family agonies of separation..
forgotten are the words
of fulfillment..closely following..
which immerse the previous words
in healing tides of love...

a bible session...

the simplicity
of drawing attention
to that which lies
between the lines
and words of story
is forgiveness..
nothing more..
the mind is inept
however frantic its
search..as story reigns..
while forgiveness glows
in the gaps...

it is called variously:
the fork in the road
a message from the universe
an intuition of new beginnings..
a couple meanings:
first..a longing to reach something new
something more fulfilling
than that which seems
as stale of late..this is a state
of searching..which we all know well..
as for  the other meaning..a discovery
that the fork or message or intuition..itself!
hides in its singularity that which we seek..
rendering our new choice as one of
expression!
of that pointed discovery..and a
new path is entered with joy...

What is nonduality?..she asked..
The Truth lies in this:
words are inadequate to explain
That which she already knows..!

There is a backing away
from our habitual entanglements
with the world out there
and this question arises:
Who is reading these words..?

Remembering our school years
and life's many classrooms
this vital question
was quite amazingly
never asked..

Seemingly overlooked
was our Self as witness
to each lesson learned..
The price of avoidance of
naming and experiencing

That which we always have been:
we accepted our brokenness
forgetting our identity
as Wholeness.. as Oneness
as.. I am...

We view with admiration
This creative approach
Of artistic expression..
It seems quirky to some
But might we not say that
All art is composed of
Found art objects..?
The object may be
Something on a beach
Or a pile of trash
Or a sudden thought
Seemingly from nowhere..
Might it appear as the
Next brushstroke or a
Word on this paper..?
It seems that all real art
Is 100% made of
Subtle or not so subtle
Objects found in this
Moment...!

1st..the Plague
Swiftly running..jumping
Borders and seas..
2nd..Transparency
Many cellphone eyes
Recording savage news..
3rd.. Supremacy among races
History's brutality crying
New awareness enflamed..
4th.. Famine and survival
Scourges of worry and fear..
These Four:
Riding together
Through leaderless land..
Will they awaken us
From our fretful Dream
To a New Dawn...?

thoughts these are
of fox and hen..
predator and protector..
these are images of
our inner separation
the suffering we endure
as we identify with
these old beliefs..

we suffer as we search
for a restoration which
we know is near..
the fox and hen
wait to be relieved
as the agents of
our long delusion..
which is promised
with the recognition
of a new identity
bathed in grace...

a withdrawal
from
cycle of life..
water
cycling since
primordial times..
afternoon rainstorms
diminished..
that rain from
earthly stimulation
now her flow
interrupted impure..
is now time
for fracturing
or for
joining and
return...?

Named iterations..branches from Roots..
our sensing IS iteration..this truth lies
in the similarities we find and find again..
The similarity of branches speaks of Root
and indeed are joyfully Root joined..
So for similarity..now for difference
the creation also iterates as difference..
branching everything new..beauty
and energy..independent and free..
Displays of colors..yet a forgetting brings
  up-rootedness casting life shadows..
Awaiting finally a Root awakening...!

Self-similarity
quietly speaks
in fractal visions..
A special sameness
with difference spices
appears and reappears
in spreading iteration..
If we then
become a pattern of
sacred Sameness
observing out there
the dance of
Sameness and spice
we uncover
for our moment
a most hidden
Sacrament...

Comes from being
Between and around
The multitude of
Objects vying for
Our attention..

Between and around
We do not attach
Neither do we resist
But allow the
Quiet to proclaim...

This is a
Recognition
Of a priority
Which is not a priority
Or a sequence which
Is not a sequence..

Recognizing our
Self as not locked
In the grip of time
And of space
Brings the Freedom
We all seek..

Allowing Freedom
To act freely to
Declaw illusory
Beginnings and
Endings...

Quickly..on Freedom

And it should be quick..

To glimpse right now

The Freedom you Are..

Unconditioned by those

Many stipulations you

Have heaped before..

Leave the heap

Without disturbance and

Allow the discovery:

Freedom Itself as You...

These are the names of Grace
Found in nature by many..
Never-ending change in the midst of
And made of the Permanence...

Happy New Year..!

Our Life energy
Apparently comes from
Knowing our real Self..
Knowing also our self
Which dreams in story
But thrives only as Self..
We choose our lens:
Self or self..and our
Perceptions unfold
In Freedom or slavery...

To recognize

Our role in the

Apparent life we have assumed

And know for sure

The role is projected

From the Freedom which

Is...

What we all desire
Scripture writers and
Constitution writers
Writers of many stripes
They all know well
To play with this word
In their compositions..
Their implication is
(Those many writers)
We need their advice
To reach that freedom
Of which they speak..
And  apparently many do
Need those pointers..until
A sudden recognition
Out of Simplicity says
I am Free now...

Freedom IS
And ever has been...

From the hilltop

We observe our

Searching paths:

Winding and tortuous..

So to recognize

That the hilltop

Is not a place

But What we Are..

In which our paths:

Winding and tortuous

We have trod...

religion is a garment
is it not..?
although its roots
may lie deep in memory
it is wearable today..
as I see it
very often the
garment gains import
and that which houses
diminishes in scale..
in other words
religion only flourishes
when its housing
shines with knowing
that all garments
can only express
what shines within..