Tuesday, July 26, 2016

read it again

That which is not God is that which is not realized as being God 

the right to assassinate citizens

It is a killing time.

Do we understand the fulcrum at hand?



The world is a curious place.

We're unsure of life and unsure of death.
We don't need affiliation with a marque angry organization to commit murder. All that is needed is a mind with a thought that a certain action will satisfy the need for reprisal for some real or imagined slight or injustice.
We mourn those killed. We mourn the thought that spurred the killings.
So many incidents of shootings, bombings, drone attacks, domestic abuse, drunk driving deaths, war, and war, and other wars.

The World Is Too Much With Us

Related Poem Content Details

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— 
Little we see in Nature that is ours; 
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 
The winds that will be howling at all hours, 
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 
For this, for everything, we are out of tune; 
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be 
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

All of which raises wonder about where those dead have gone. And if, as some suggest, it is a better place.
I have a thought. What if no one goes anywhere? What if there is no other place to go? What if we are either visible or invisible, appeared or disappeared?

The visible world, by its very wording, suggests an invisible world. Some speak of other dimensions. Same so-called space, different depth dimension and specification of variant computations of physics. 

I don't know about what looms invisible. I do know that death is omnivalent. 
I look forward to coffee and toast, yogurt, cereal, and chocolate milk. 
I opt for the ordinary and everyday.

Mice beware.

And yes, citizens beware. 

We've got to understand and critique the force of corporate power.

It is a curious time.

Monday, July 25, 2016

an inquiring inviting what is here to be here

It is, finally, a matter of trust. Do I trust that what is occurring is a fact, that it is occurring?

And that the awaring of what is occurring contributes to and effects transformation, Sitz im Leben, of a kind of consecration not unlike the traditional church notion of transubstantion or consubstantiation?

Once it was thought that one thing became another thing, namely, bread and wine changed into the body and blood of Jesus the Christ.

Today we consider a different articulation, one that views not something changing into something else, but the thing itself becoming what it actually is, becoming itself. 

So that, the bread and wine do not change into the body and blood of Jesus the Christ, but rather become what they actually are, the body and blood of Jesus the Christ.


We question what is appearing before us, asking, "what is this?" From this inquiry begins a dialogue, a speaking through one another, asking into the appearance so as to have revealed what it really is. This now trialogue involves a seeming three, (you, the other, the real), is an inquiry inviting new seeing. This new seeing entails dropping off mind and body, that is, releasing the rational and experienced separation of me from the other, the categories of distinction and difference which push apart then evaluate according to a hierarchy of imposed value and meaning.


A new day rises.

Reality is reality.

What is reality?

The invitation/inquiry is my morning practice.

I need nothing else to explain what is no other.

Silence and stillness, watching and listening, one step at a time.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

awaring such reality

In conversations last few days some observations and tentative definitions about God, Christ, you and me.
  • “One with God” said a young woman by phone on her 30th birthday. It seemed like a perfectly useful definition of God. God is “one with.” It expresses union, unity, community and relationality.
  • “One invites two, and two needs three.” On either side of plexiglass in Maine State Prison we are speaking about the triadic nature of all experience.
  • Christ is the realization of transsubjective, intersubjective, interconnective interrelationality and the movement through all acts and activities with the awareness of such reality coming into appearance.
Perhaps there is a difference between accepting reality and awaring reality.

So too, what of the shift from accepting Christ to awaring Christ?

Saturday, July 23, 2016

as others are made to suffer

War is where young men go insane with the awful things their country asks them to do.

Their country receives them back.

But they seldom come home.

Who they were is left in battle zones.

Like unburied dead wandering in haze of terrible tasks done in name of duty and freedom.

They suffer.

As others are made to suffer.

Friday, July 22, 2016

to share sorrow

There's something about the ritual of condolence with the Seneca and Mohawk and the Iroquois confederation.
Condolence:
Origin of condole1580-90; Late Latin condolēre, equivalent to con- con- + dolēre to feel pain; akin to dolor (--dictionary.com)
To share sorrow.
The prerequisite for civilized culture.

just pesky bugs walking up past yurt with dog this morning

Brrr!

In disturbing nightmares last few nights I heard a series of eulogies for USA. 

This morning I look out window. 

Oh good! 

Still here.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

don’t make me go there

Sheilah, one of our 90+yr olds, read Leonard Cohen’s poem last Friday at meetingbrook’s Poetry, Tea, and Thee gathering.
STEER YOUR WAY
                        By  
Steer your way through the ruins of the Altar and the MallSteer your way through the fables of Creation and the FallSteer your way past the Palaces that rise above the rotYear by yearMonth by month Day by dayThought by thought  
Steer your heart past the Truth you believed in yesterdaySuch as Fundamental Goodness and the Wisdom of the WaySteer your heart, precious heart, past the women whom you bought Year by yearMonth by month Day by dayThought by thought 
Steer your path through the pain that is far more real than youThat has smashed the Cosmic Model, that has blinded every View And please don’t make me go there, though there be a God or notYear by yearMonth by month Day by day Thought by thought 
They whisper still, the injured stones, the blunted mountains weepAs he died to make men holy, let us die to make things cheapAnd say the Mea Culpa, which you’ve gradually forgot Year by year Month by month Day by day Thought by thought  
Steer your way, O my heart, though I have no right to ask To the one who was never never equal to the task Who knows he’s been convicted, who knows he will be shotYear by year Month by month Day by day Thought by thought.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/06/20/steer-your-way-by-leonard-cohen 
In this time of addled and idiotic commentary on social/political burlesque, it is refreshing that there are poets to frame what is revealing itself to our imagination with eluctable possibility. We can struggle out of the increasing absurdity of contemporary personal and corporate culture, (which seem ineluctable).

--An old man held against his will four years in motel room for his monthly pension/social security.
--A man with hands up, prone on ground, explaining he is caring for an autistic man sitting beside him holding a toy truck who left his group home, is shot in leg by police who fire three shots at him while on ground, then handcuffed, left on side as his wound bled..
--The kabuki political theater of grimace and snarl, smirking and posturing, asking to lead a country that is fragile and vulnerable and a little bit crazed.

It is not easy to steer between militaristic police, nascent racism, and opportunistic unfeeling greed.

Besides that, it is July, temperature is hot, and full moon slowly wanes.

It feels like everything is collapsing. Cosmos, culture, personality.

I forget how to pray.

I’ll go look at rowboat to try to see how to stop leak.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

card on brown book cover from Rockland bakery




it is today

Truth be told, shadows surreptitiously accompany us in this shadow world of appearance and concealment.

Where we are and who we are and what we are doing might be the trinitarian nature of being-in-the-world.


Morning sun behind post. Mourning sense behind ordinary actions. It is a benefit we can mask what we feel.


Like local theater company performance we pretend to the lives of others by reciting lines and crossing stage with convincing approximation. What is he to Hecuba? And what accounts for the fascination with motion picture films and tv dramas and so-called reality shows? 

In Cleveland focus moves from basketball championship to republican convention. Millionaires run and jump, throw passes and hack one another, feint and feign, stuff and finesse while those watching are unsure whether what they see is real or fake. Politics is a professional sport. We seem to like following celebrity.

We are unsure if what we see is what is there. Nor do we know where things go when they go away.

"It’s outside the nature of both my personality and my faith to speak much about myself. I don’t think people are truly capable of knowing exactly who they are, and that, myself included, any attempt to define this “I” approaches arrogance. Our hearts and minds change from moment to moment, just as the clouds shift in the evening sky as the sun goes down. Who are we to think we have grasped the true nature of our souls? The Buddha-mind within us will not be constrained by the limits of language."     —Abbess Fushimi, "Shedding Light"
In the Magnificat the first line says, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior." (Luke 1:46)  Perhaps we are real to the extent (as P. suggested in prison) we allow the "Lord" or one true reality, the so-called "Soul Itself" to enter and reside within what we call "me" or "our life." 

Perhaps the soul is no thing and the Soul is nothing there. Rather the Soul is What Is, and to the extent we open to this one true reality, we come to be, we are. The soulless are absent. The soul-full (yes, the soulful) are here, present.

It is the dialectic of presence and absence, real and unreal, genuine value and dreck.



We are a people of windows -- looking through, light seen through -- giving rise to the feeling of hope that what is seen might be approached.

Perhaps "our" soul does make visible the truth of what is hidden in our midst. So we listen. We sniff out fragrance. We hope to pick up muffins from Chase's Daily in Belfast on our way to Milo and Old Town.

It is today.

What are we seeing?

Monday, July 18, 2016

there's nothing there

Q. Are you enlightened

A. No you

Q. I don't understand

A. Nor I

what is it we are listening for

What does it mean to love God?


It means morning arrives and saying thank you. To morning. Which is God, the God outside scripture and tradition. 

It means sun beginning to burn through fog. It is fog that is God. And is taken into sunlight as what is there is taken into eyes and brain and interpretative recognition as morning fog and blinding breakthrough of star/sun 92.96 million miles away, and into which 1.3 million earths would fit.

These are big numbers. In measurement language God is a big number. In poetic language God is no number, rather mere mist and sunlight and passing words on Monday morning.

In Baton Rouge more violence. Guns and bullets discharged. These past 2 weeks, civilians and police officers both shot and killed. Nobody seems to notice a common thread. We are killing one another.

We are killing one another. God is not killing us. We are killing one another.

Last night at Sunday Evening Practice we read Toni Packer on meditative inquiry. Saskia told story of great nephew and visiting Austrian cousin, both 6 yrs old, used her to speak with each other. They used her, she said, to "go through" in order to traverse the English/German language difference.

God is going through. God is that which is going through. God is the going through of that which is going through. And we are that which is gone through.


The earth sits on table. Cat curls on couch. Books hold words above earth and cat.

The Black preacher/scholar is on Democracy Now speaking about truth and justice. He tells how he agrees with the Green Party candidate. He wants to steer away from neofascist and neoliberal other two candidates.

We are a species of disagreement. We are a reluctant community. We are only beginning to learn how to go through difference without having to kill the different. We are just beginning to learn how to pronounce the syllables of our molecular dna and elemental transfusive emergent Word that creates itself in the movement from dark vacuity to bright appearance. This journey is an ever turning dance spinning through silence toward eloquence.

I love God.

I love the going through.

I long for the ability to hear and pronounce the emerging sound of what is real, what is true, what is loving.

Until that is embodied and revealed., there is , the black scholar might suggest, John Coltrane to ease us through.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

water, water, every shear

Rowboat lists and I am listless
As it rains on Sunday morning.

Friday, July 15, 2016

bailing rowboat bicycling roads

I couldn't imagine why I would buy a gun. Nor even a knife. Protection? I couldn't imagine shooting or stabbing someone if threatened. So I didn't and don't.

There's nothing to protect. I have too many shirts. They hang on clothesline behind bookshed after washing machine. I have too many pants. They hang behind door of my room. I have too many books. They reside everywhere; calling to me -- Come, read!
There's also this almost childlike focus on the moment, the joy of the present alone: Is that really all there is to happiness? What about happy memories? What about the happy thought that tomorrow is another day to do something good and exciting? 
You may, instead, agree with the Tagesspruch (maxim for the day) that the owner of a hotel on the Baltic coast wrote some months ago on the breakfast menu for his guests: "Die wesentlichen Dinge, um in diesem Leben Glück zu erlangen, sind: Etwas zu vollbringen, jemanden zu lieben, und auf etwas zu hoffen." Approximately: "The essential things that make you happy in life are: to accomplish something, to love someone, and to hope for something." That’s not Goethe; but it's a happy thought. 
(--from, Philosophy for the privileged and the intellectual By Dr. Toad on March 5, 2010, reviewing The Present Alone is Our Happiness: Conversations with Jeannie Carlier and Arnold I. Davidson (Cultural Memory in the Present) Paperback – December 23, 2008, by Pierre Hadot, Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/Present-Alone-Our-Happiness-Conversations/dp/0804748365/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1468355805&sr=1-10&keywords=pierre+hadot
 Some think a Bald Eagle (or the large snapping turtle)  took the Loon youngsters from Hosmer Pond, a 54 acre body of freshwater 3+ miles outside of town. There was much joy when the two little ones showed up in late June swimming with mom and pop Loon. Then, no show. The wondering has turned to disappointment. So geht das Leben!


Rather a black sweatshirt and pair of black sweatshorts. That's what I ordered yesterday.

And cycled 10 miles today.

After reading from book on Robert Lax and jotting poetry in yurt for quiet afternoon.

I'm thinking of nothing these days.

What is the relation of 'attention' to 'being'

It began as a mere response to why the killings of black men by police seems so noteworthy these current weeks (and years).

The Friday morning conversation in prison often is a springboard through insight.

One man mentioned technology, the filming of incidents.

Then it was said, "Attention is being given to it."

And all of a sudden, as part of the earlier question asking about the compassion equivalent to intelligence, the thought occurs: attention is being given to it.

And we ponder this. Is attention "being"? And is attention compassion?
And is attention, being, given, to "this?"

Are we stumbling into something here?

Friday morning beads

No more professional armies to battle each other on a recognized battleground like some chessboard using approved legitimate rules of engagement.

Now everyone and every place at any time with no rules no restrictions no exclusion of women and children and no identified goal -- polymorphously perverse killing destruction.

It is a logical extension of rifle, carpet bombing, Thompson machine guns, ak47s, drones, fighter jets, hydrogen bomb, stiletto knife, brass knuckles, choke holds, baseball bats, pushing off roofs.

Now, an 18 wheeler in a crowded street during celebratory gathering.

This is our future previewing on screens of uncomprehending consciousness.

But we've never been aficionados of logical extensions.

So we stare.

Wondering whether and to whom we might pray.


Thursday, July 14, 2016

If there is a God, then where would one look to see God

Beneath

It

All;

Beyond

And

Between

Everything

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

if only we could see what is under appearance

What is Christ

Is Christ what is

Coming to be

Intimately unveiled 

After what has been

Is now departing

Unseen


Monday, July 11, 2016

are you religious

What if wisdom is a being of intimate awareness?

What if the "fear of the lord" was about what the lord feared, not that the lord is to be feared? (Does the lord fear our unwillingness to see things whole and act with conscious integrity for all beings?)

What if salvation means liberation from barrier and ignorance?

Would religion, then, be the most vital inquiry of any?

monday morning

Yes

Today Benedict of Nursia is celebrated, called the father of western monasticism.

Hosmer pond watchers are looking for two baby loons. No reports of sightings in past three days.

Photo arises from black lives matter Louisiana that sums up the mood of these times. 

JONATHAN BACHMAN/REUTERS
Is this the new iconic image of what America struggles to comprehend?

Sunday, July 10, 2016

no eyes no ears no object of mind

I worry that criminals have stolen the country from so-called ordinary people.

Not petty criminals. Powerful criminals.

In two months it will be the 15th anniversary of a new century of criminal terrorism.

So many among us do not have the slightest suspicion as to who the real terrorists are.

Tonight, on my cushion, I listened to rain.

There’s a lot to hear.

Saturday, July 09, 2016

indeterminate immediacy

There are modes of thought difficult to avoid.
Hegel’s Science of Logic
Volume One: The Objective Logic 
Book One: The Doctrine of Being

Section One: Determinateness (Quality)
§ 130
Being is the indeterminate immediate; it is free from determinateness in relation to essence and also from any which it can possess within itself. This reflectionless being is being as it is immediately in its own self alone.§ 131
Because it is indeterminate being, it lacks all quality; but in itself, the character of indeterminateness attaches to it only in contrast to what is determinate or qualitative. But determinate being stands in contrast to being in general, so that the very indeterminateness of the latter constitutes its quality. It will therefore be shown that the first being is in itself determinate, and therefore, secondly, that it passes over into determinate being — is determinate being — but that this latter as finite being sublates itself and passes over into the infinite relation of being to its own self, that is, thirdly, into being-for-self.  
Chapter 1 Being
A Being
§ 132
Being, pure being, without any further determination. In its indeterminate immediacy it is equal only to itself. It is also not unequal relatively to an other; it has no diversity within itself nor any with a reference outwards. It would not be held fast in its purity if it contained any determination or content which could be distinguished in it or by which it could be distinguished from an other. It is pure indeterminateness and emptiness. There is nothing to be intuited in it, if one can speak here of intuiting; or, it is only this pure intuiting itself. Just as little is anything to be thought in it, or it is equally only this empty thinking. Being, the indeterminate immediate, is in fact nothing, and neither more nor less than nothing. 
B Nothing
§ 133
Nothing, pure nothing: it is simply equality with itself, complete emptiness, absence of all determination and content — undifferentiatedness in itself. In so far as intuiting or thinking can be mentioned here, it counts as a distinction whether something or nothing is intuited or thought. To intuit or think nothing has, therefore, a meaning; both are distinguished and thus nothing is (exists) in our intuiting or thinking; or rather it is empty intuition and thought itself, and the same empty intuition or thought as pure being. Nothing is, therefore, the same determination, or rather absence of determination, and thus altogether the same as, pure being.® 
C Becoming
1. Unity of Being and Nothing
§ 134
Pure Being and pure nothing are, therefore, the same. What is the truth is neither being nor nothing, but that being — does not pass over but has passed over — into nothing, and nothing into being. But it is equally true that they are not undistinguished from each other, that, on the contrary, they are not the same, that they are absolutely distinct, and yet that they are unseparated and inseparable and that each immediately vanishes in its opposite. Their truth is therefore, this movement of the immediate vanishing of the one into the other: becoming, a movement in which both are distinguished, but by a difference which has equally immediately resolved itself. ®
https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/hegel/works/hl/hlbeing.htm 
There are correspondences hard to extrapolate.
A Nigerian man who had recently fled to Europe to escape Boko Haram militants was beaten to death on the streets of Italy this week as he tried to defend his wife against racist abuse.
Emmanuel Chidi Namdi, 36, and his wife Chimiary, 24, were walking through the north-central Italian town of Fermo on Tuesday when a man called Chimiary a “monkey” and tried to grab her, according to local priest Vinicio Albanesi, a friend of the couple.
Namdi intervened, and the resulting fight left him in a coma. He was pronounced dead on Wednesday.
Amedeo Mancini, a 38-year-old Italian man who is part of an “ultras” gang of extremist soccer fans, was arrested Thursday on suspicion of killing Namdi. Mancini told investigators that he’d insulted the couple because he thought they were stealing a car, and he claimed that he’d acted in self defense after Namdi attacked him, HuffPost Italy reported. 
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/nigerian-refugee-killed-italy-emmanuel-chidi-namdi_us_577e9e10e4b0c590f7e8702f 
There are instances of remembrance important to recall.

Like the birthday of one’s mother.

Friday, July 08, 2016

becoming what once we thought about

I know what is causing the shootings in this country.

Dualistic mind.

Specifically a deteriorated, deficient condition of mental rational consciousness.

A corrupted dualistic mode of thinking is what is driving the bus toward the edge of the cliff for its drop thousands of feet, thousands of years, into a hard bottom which will break everything into pieces of blood splattered and destroyed lives.

Until we look deeply within, profoundly meditating on the inner evolving changing consciousness, radically contemplating the unifying complementarity of non-duality, we will continue to battle one another, we will continue to murder, maim, and horribly wound one another. We will cultivate the meme of enemy. We will gather unto ourselves the means to harm and separate and make life a fearful experience.

Non-dual awareness will save us.

Think about it.

Think within it.

Become it.

No mind.

Seeing without division.

Compassion finding itself surrounding.

after dallas, baton rouge, minnesota; after all

Shooting begets. Let’s rethink shooting anyone.

OK, I’ve had my rethink. I choose not to own gun nor shoot anyone.

Anyone!

That’s me.

You?

Thursday, July 07, 2016

under appearance of bread/wine

one time is too many

broken taillights, rolling through stop signs,
driving while black

the time has come

to put a stop to what police and armies do
keeping order by killing

we are out of time

it ends here
i refuse to murder my family, to fear

what time is

doing to what being is trying to reveal 
to look beneath, beyond, and 

become this time

what longs to be seen
what cannot bear to be continued unloved

HAIKU (Black Men Down)

police are shooting
black men
like there's no 
tomorrow 

Wednesday, July 06, 2016

Interrogatory

Q: Why go to church on obscure weekday?

A: I go to church to find myself there.

Comment: 
Who is "myself?" And why do we think it odd that "myself" might not be an interior capacity, but rather a circumstance of proximity and intimacy, even at a distance? We find this surround of self wherever we look.
Not the looker, nor the looked-at, but the looking-itself.
Self, like thoughtful intelligence, is a fluidity of found approximate awareness revealing itself in the instant.

One last question

Q: What do we want?

A: To be allowed!

Tuesday, July 05, 2016

Evening comes and morning [will] follow

For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid, 
by William Stafford

There is a country to cross you will
find in the corner of your eye, in
the quick slip of your foot—air far
down, a snap that might have caught.
And maybe for you, for me, a high, passing
voice that finds its way by being
afraid. That country is there, for us,
carried as it is crossed. What you fear
will not go away: it will take you into
yourself and bless you and keep you.
That’s the world, and we all live there.
“For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid” by William Stafford from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. © Graywolf Press

Monday, July 04, 2016

Depend on one, this once, day

Yes
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd: 
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard. 
(--from poem, The Unknown Citizen! by W. H. Auden, 1907 - 1973     )https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/unknown-citizen
Is  independence synonymous with freedom?

And, can we be happy defining ourselves in opposition to other religions, nationalities, races, and understandings of what it means to be alive for once in the world today?

I would be happy to offer myself to the next suicide bomber, to stand ten feet away as he detonates his explosives, as he thanks his God for the opportunity to serve and destroy. Why would I do such a thing? Freedom requires the willingness to say yes to the unfree, the deluded, the oppressively ideological, the true believer who is without real feeling for anyone or anything else but his obsession. 

This yes is not to the obscene and insane act that either the terrorist of the patriot conceives of committing in the name of their general good. 

No, this yes is to the individual. The one standing there. For once. Seeing the individual as the undivided particularity, the radical particularity, seeking to be seen as itself, as Itself in the world.

Itself in the world -- for this once -- is to be construed as the-one-we-call-God. Not someone else, not somewhere else, not something else -- but right there, right here. The individual, sight unseen, as the Divine Holy One is.

America is (or could be, again) great because it can hold within it the insanity of being human in a time of desperate uncertainty and confusion. 

Insanity is an awkward way of exercising our internal squared-away judging opinions as answers upon an external chaotic and questioning world. It is the curious solipsistic narcissism of the person who thinks themselves certain and in control that ensures militaristic rigidity and/or terroristic psychosis as dual cousins both uncaring and non responsive to the questions that individuals, that freedom, tries to ask in front of them.

Obviously one person's life doesn't amount to a hill of beans in the eyes of the patriot or terrorist.

They both decide to kill the individual because individuals don't count. For the patriot and the terrorist only the idea of freedom, only the idea of God, only the idea of their political or religious goals matters. Never the individual. Never the person.

It is the Fourth of July.

Something wants to be remembered.

Not merely flag-waving and fireworks.

Not automatic assault weapons and explosive vests.

Something else. This once.


That we are here.

That we are here and ready to celebrate complexity and uncertainty.

That we are here to be the individual freedom that is foundation for collective caring.

Depend on what is within.

Depend in. For once. At least for this once.

Depend on one, this once.

One holy once.

This is the day!

Have you heard?

Sunday, July 03, 2016

Joshu's clogs on his head

"Change is never painful,
only your resistance to change is painful."
        — Buddhist Proverb

Saturday, July 02, 2016

Elie Wiesel

`When will you understand that you are living and searching in error, because God means movement and not explanation.'' ([in Legends], p.93) 
(--Elie Wiesel, Rest in peace, 2July2016, at age 87)

What is in you is what is outside you once the veil falls away. Divination is the veil seen through

This
is
What-is
Here
for me. 


I have
nothing else.



Reflections
within
reflection.


This earth
this world.


As it is!