Thursday, January 28, 2010

Lets talk about something else, Ok?

As I sit on the twilight, the edge of now as the past flows onward behind me, starlight flows backwards into the eternity of space and time. The most distant stars are surely dead and gone, but the spirit of their existences flows forward on through time and through space, like memories echoing in the mind that cannot, will not ever forget.
Waking up to the non-thinking awareness of the present moment of the now; frozen in a place of peace and calm and harmony with the oneness of all phenomenon of the universe, the ultimate reality that is the Once Source of life in all of the Universe. A set of mathematical relationships that are so basic that reality floats upon their curves and crevices, sinking so deeply into the most infinitesimal of spaces, corners, limits and inner vertices. So slight and so subtle, so pervasive and omnipresent, in all substance and matter, and space, energy, element, form, fabric, fiber, thread, possibility, position, superposition, wavelength, quantum, valence, or state. Any slight difference, whatsoever that could be real, all that is too small to measure or describe but very real all the same; these are the limits and levels that completely makes the prediction of results in the system impossible, unthinkable; so chaotic. So simple the equations yet so complex it would require a computer the entire size of the universe to calculate, let alone re-read, rethink and comprehend with even the furthest understanding away from Enlightenment the results and predictions.
Your programming is real deep. Isn't it?

Let’s talk abut something else.
Honestly - you didn't even do anything but consider the theoretical possibility of exercising a divine right, a gift granted to you by the holy sacramental mercy of Almighty God; A gift, an acceptance, a forgiveness, a freedom, a love, a compassion, an understanding, and acceptance for which you should bow more deeply in a type, kind, and quality of humbleness more pure than ever before.

Everything given to you by god is a miracle, every sense organ, possibility, opportunity for experience, growth, life, love, self-discovery and self-liberation, every coming into your own, and growing beyond limitation, fear, anxiety, worry, pain, hurt, anguish or suffering.

And Everything is given to you with infinite and infinitely pure love that will and always has existed for eternity in both directions. Forward in future, backward in past, inward in the moment that is the perpetual now, the only time that ever has, is, or will be existing.

Ok?

Monday, January 18, 2010

All is Fleeting

In the quiet of the room, eyes closed with a straightened back, the noise of thoughts swirl within a silent, mental chaos. Images, some from the non-existent past and some from the non-existent future blind and deafen the silent peace of non-being.

Recognizing each of these, turn back to the breathing.

Suddenly, the high pitched sound rings out, as the thirty minutes have passed. And, in a flash of hammer against bell, the eternal mental agonies of thoughts during the long period of waiting dissolve.

It is so clear now that time slips like sands from the glass, like water flows down the stream, like air escapes from the lungs… and all at once I understand that my life slips out from my body, that which moves through me, moves on from me;

A life, flowing too quickly into space and time, into an abyss, a void, a spaciousness, a vacuousness , life flies to some place that lies beyond the boundaries of my flesh and bones, and blood, and brain.

All at once I feel my form dissolving around me, time is an acid that removes my sense of cohesion from my many parts, and for me this is moving all too quickly.

The mind I have resists this essential truth and grasps onto who I think I am… who I was… who I want to be…who I wish I were.

And with before the mirror of my mind, in the silence of the zendo, I my fleeting self.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Life of Snow On a WInter Hill

In Winter’s silence unfold the many shades, tones, kinds, thicknesses, textures and variants of grey; in the white of a snow covered hill, in the gray-black blues of a Winter’ day; ice, cold, wind, light through crystal, whistling, crunching snapping and cracking

On the hill to the right, where the sun still presumably shone, a white, snow-covered, pristine surface was foreground before a whitened sky with no trace of blue or ray of light – just a monotonous and uniform heaven of white;



There, a hill of no tree or bush of any kind. Just, smoothed and large and round, this piece of land sliding past the slipping and whitened sky. From these two touch, is birthed a clear and transparent horizon-line.

From the hill’s right side now comes the twilight of an oncoming nightime’s darkness. Beyond perception, this emerges.



In its first few shading-moments, the Winter Night's twilight turns clouded white-sky toward the oncoming grey. A grey which grows, from East to West, muting the hill’s reflective brilliance until night-time is fully arrived.



In the Winter’s snow-filled darkness before the glory of a moonrise, the lunar twiglight wafts its way across the hill’s darkened, midnight horizon. Soon even this midnight darkness will greet the twilight of the moon.



All through these changes of sun to darkness, of darkness to moon, of moon to morning - in all of this the hill remains white, the virgin snow of the hillside which changes in the quality of intensity only. White becomes less intense, than more, than less, than more.



The snow covered hill remains stark white; even in the moon lit sky as it was in day; the whiteness of the hillside snow never changes from white to gray or black.



And Not even midnight keeps the full moon from channeling it’s brilliance upon this starlit hill; Instead, the moon only illuminates the ground of snow-covered earth as completely as its own lunar surface.



In heaven above, the moonlight fills in beige the dust-covered hills of meteoric sands, but here, on the hill, the Moon in Winter illuminates only the dusts of clouds mixed in the colds of Winter’s wind and ice;



Oh That frozen whiteness that sunlight can shimmer upon and moon-beams sparkle up backwards into the eyes;



Illuminating the soul.