The Greatest Power

The greatest, most profound, sapient, and mysterious forces generated by human form are concealed by divine 'con'fusion. This concealment protects those who are incapable of holding authentic power with integrity. She who is capable of fusing with such power walks in humility. The one who seeks sovereignty of others is destined to remain 'con'fused, unaware, and unable to perceive the genuine pronouncement-the denouement.  The denouement is an uneventful bore through the eyes of the ego.  Relentless arrogance neglects the wisdom of subtle senses.  Through the eyes of the arrogant, the beaten tramp in the corner is sullenly disregarded.  To the humble, they see divinity radiating from all corners.

Those who carry authentic power practice sovereignty of self.  They discover a vision that opens like the canal of a mother giving birth.  What is born is the fusion of self and sky.  For the arrogant, the sky remains divided for they are too egocentric to look up.  They are unable to humble themselves to that which is far greater than themselves because they see anything outside of themselves as bovine depravity, unworthy, and lacking the sparkling magnetism of glamour.  The world is dull for the immodest. Every day is spent in conspicuous reconciliation with elegance and allure.  They are drawn to ostentatious endeavors like a moth to light, eventually to die from the magnitude of the external, never to burn holy from the profundity within--that profundity within is an insatiable light which radiates outward, igniting other's lives.

Stillness-breath-the most gentle and invisible aspects of life house the powers of the master.  And yet, this is not grandiose enough, not showy and dazzling enough for the ego. Therefore, those who conquer ego and the need to be provocative, invite the greatest of forces into their breath and their stillness.  This is a protection piece for divinity. Those who are incapable to submit to modesty will never be able to ignite the power within, nor will they ever be aware of it for the greatest of power remains hidden and unseen.

To be breath, to be still, to be self-sovereign unveils the tramp within. As the modest one breathes, he begins to unravel the paradoxes of the soft and yielding that are masked in the illusion of subtlety and lurid equivocations. These misleading elements melt away as the modest lives in every breath divine authorizations, disrobing the tramp and exposing a divine being.  Every breath is a flame and a force, igniting life's potential. Discipline of breath, discipline of attention, discipline of stillness and presence.  These words mean nothing to a somebody. Hidden somewhere, to an empty being, is the most powerful human force on the planet, and yet, hardly anyone will discover and live by these forces.  The most obvious is invisible to the blind, and most are too arrogant to see.

Dharma

If we must cry

Wait until the warm rain falls

Where tears and droplets mingle

Where there is no separation of Self and Sky

Where our inner life emerges in petals blossoming from our eyes

Our soul nurtured by wet cosmic kisses.

The seeds of dharma planted

Yet, arid though our need does make

The humility of longing cracks our face

When we ask, “Why am I here?”

The answer does not wait

As simple as our lost tears confide

The answer blends your tears with Mine.

From this Heart Pours

The heart does not sing in canons

The melody the sound unknown

The heart’s stillness is emptied of motion

The heart’s motion is emptied of stillness

With desire the hand does pour

The contents held in the eternal cusp like fragile crystal

Such fragility does illusion make

An enemy of love can break such dominion

How is this enemy myself?

Sunk deep into the pocket of the thief’s jeans

I find my number scrawled on crumpled paper,

To my identity I call,

             and she answers

I hear a voice that is not my own

“How is this enemy myself?” I cry

Belabored by the integral I cannot find my sheath

I have lost all cause such purpose unknown.

Sovereignty sings in temples

The catalogues of the oppressed mount cathedrals

When in this architectural design does one illustrate

            the power to signify the divine?

The sheep’s skin is worn pressed against flesh,

            and not one traitor can trace your face in the shadows

For lurking beneath the constraint of time

The graces of union lick the erratic assault

The concept of defense extinguished

Where walls of cathedrals fall

            to witness the internal collapse of division

Where posterior to concepts deconstruct the omission

            of self of other of enemy.

The heart’s autonomy is emptied of union

The heart’s union is emptied of autonomy

And from this heart pours motion,

And from this heart pours stillness.

When Dreams

There comes a time when our dreams do not serve us anymore. We may begin to realize that we once dreamed our dreams to serve ourselves.  We may realize that this service to ourselves is but a dream, and within our dreams we may awaken. We may dream our dreams and do. And upon this doing, unknowingly, we are leaving a hole in our heart for the space of more dreams.  This space begins to expand and expand like a tireless balloon.  This space naturally invites others to dream within this space.

Where once we moved into ecstatic fruition of Self, fully ripened, the fruit erupts into a grandeur of giving to another unexpectedly. We dream our dreams and upon no will of our own, they suddenly include others.  This emptying of our dreams into a larger space invites others to dream within us.  In the quiet of the night we will awaken to the fact that our dreams have matured.  Our dreams take on the shapes and apparitions of others.

We begin to dream others' dreams.  We do for others' dreams. We have moved beyond the necessity of self into a grander or, rather, a greater orbit that involves others we may not even know.  We are dreaming their dream to do.  We realize that we are so sick and tired of ourselves. We become exhausted of ourselves.  We have served all our essential needs, and our dreams have dried up into a fragrant potpourri of superfluous necessity.  Within that brilliant moment arrives a bolt of clarity. Eventually, our emptiness and solitude dumps out of our heart, and the invitation for others floods within as a welcoming to others.  When our eyes close in self-absorption, we will become so empty of ourself that the space automatically and quite naturally invites the hopes and wonders of others.  With a deep and reverent fascination, we open our heart like angelic wings swooping steadfastly to take a pronounced collection of air for elevation only to realize that this final farewell to selfish desires escalates those around us-within us.  We have not sacrificed one bit of ourselves. We have not given too much, we have not overextended, we have other-actualized the transparency of our heart and claimed no self in the process.  We have entered an entire landscape of selfless giving unexpectedly.  From which our self once dreamed now is rooted within the hearts of others. We have merged the finality of our own essence into the eternality of the Other. 

Olé

Humanity

Be Amazed

Be amazed by the pronounced constructs of reality you have established like jail walls around your soul.  Every illusion you pierce with the trembling recognition of a grander truth is a brick extinguished; and, the closer you are to a true liberation.  

We are our own martyrs to the stories we have adopted from society. The cosmos is limitless-society, limited and reckless. To be truly free is to dismantle the society within your mind. 

Stillness

~Within the within~

The drop of water never lands as landing is not law. Pools of silence wash ashore, stroking the restless sands with unyielding ease. The sound of grains shimmer like golden hail sparkling in tremors, flashing in and out another. The silence absorbs within the state of saturation; she sits in her mystery acquiring knowledge.

The within the within...

If you meet her, she will undress you, behead you, disembody you until you are all that lives. The-within-the-within takes you deeper than within. You know you are near her when you have lost your name. You know you have entered her when you never stop entering her. The drip drops deeper into her infinite hands. Your mind and body have lost their shame. You are stripped to the culmination of the undoing, for no harm can be done unto you. The drop drips soundlessly as the name has not arrived. Curls of fascination spiral like smoke into the rich opaque night-spinning upward, heralding the nameless face of your last promulgation. You have lost yourself in the eternal joy of antiquity. Come messenger, come friends, come back to where life begins. You will find your name cupped within the hands of the virgin. She has registered your identity as that of loving the sacred game of humanity.

James Baldwin Interview 1963

The Third Dimension Part I

Have you seen how the land is molded by her supple movements?  Have you seen how stones impress by her beauty?  Have you seen her tremor in crystalline caves still within the fragrant magic of subterranean depths? Have you seen her react with tempestuous bravado clashing with the limestone shore?  She is full of life, dancing particles, she is fluid and dynamic, altering to the perpetual shifts in her environment.  She dances with seductive power and force, and yet, may trickle like the pearls of a necklace lain down to rest one bead at a time.  Glassy, deceptively demure and contained.  She is solid, gas, liquid-she is one.  You can never have her, she has you. She is the ocean inside of you and she moves through you in highways and currents.  You are her.  


Dimension three is the recognition that we are not contained within any space as any set form and yet the essence is the same.  We are like that of water, constantly moving through space in our many forms, influencing the forms around us, yet also transforming in the face of our environment (gas, to liquid, to ice).  

Dimension one guides you into the purity of your essence while dimension two leads you into the nature of your movements and the power of your intent.  Dimension three embodies your intent.  If there is any consideration as to what motivates you, conscious action is a possibility.  Conscious action is like water awakening to its own influential presence.  Water as liquid, water as form, water as gas shape-shifting in a series of contexts, supple as strength, drops enduring, shifting as currents carry forth. Conscious action is coming to know of your nature, your many forms, your movements and directing them through the spectrum of self-awareness into the colors of the day.  Dimension three is an invocation.  


As we sojourn the mysteries of our interior landscape, through the vestibules of our exterior life, we unveil ourselves in every moment-new forms emerge and then dissipate, yet eternally radiate the color of water.  What is the color of water but a reflection?  And if that water is murky, filled with waste as if your interior life was not cared for, what shall this water be but colored by your own disease?


Feathers alone are a thing of tender beauty, feathers together gather wind, feathers of a wing transport the glorification of nature's lead to represent itself holy.  As with every aspect there retains the eye that sees the mercy of the fragments unveiling what's yet to be seen.

Second Dimension

Beauty transposes itself onto our screen. If ever there was a more vital time to collaborate with your deep interior forces, now is the time, and was it ever not so? What does it mean to have sacred dialogue? What does the second dimension entail? Let's revisit the form of the second dimension briefly. The second dimension is the plane of existence that activates motion from the one-pointedness of meditation. What does this mean? Well, on a very practical level, it means one must sit with oneself first. One must confront the quietude of their being while sitting in silence. What arises? What arises one may feel. The feeling is the healing. The progression of physical upheaval transgresses into a stillness. If one does not reach stillness within their silent retreat, they must revisit this one-pointed simplicity within oneself until the distractive upheaval is released. Then, then one may move into the forces of prayer, or in other terms, sacred dialogue. Sacred dialogue is a breath that is exhaled with heavenly winds when one is in congruence with their physical and emotional body. If one has not rested within the silence of their simple nature, prayer can be a very tempestuous series of pleads. This series of pleads is not necessarily sacred dialogue but a relentless longing for oneself which is a basic form of necessity when one needs healing. If you have ever sat in silence and felt the warmth of the absolute pour into you like a silken honey oozing into your every pore, you must know that you have reached a point of preparation. You are ready to make an announcement on behalf of our planet, our kingdoms, civilizations, friends, families, and foes the possibilities that you may taste on your imaginative tongue. You are called to conjure from deep within your most imaginative nature a promise to humanity that what you bring forth is your true devotion. If you are ready for sacred dialogue these forces that I speak of are not abstract ideas, but sensuous dynamics that are palpable and await your conscious direction. To utter any phrase when in a state of sacred dialogue is to breathe form into this dynamic plane of existence. Be aware, and beware, this is the dimension of creation. Detach from all exterior distractions and rest within the absolute silence of your soul. Here, fields of grace may be harvested to the golden rays of the setting sun. Take caution, for the setting sun seeks no one, one must seek the setting sun. When night falls, the all is eclipsed momentarily, unless the all eclipsed forget to open their eyes to the rising sun. The rising sun seeks no one. One must seek the rising sun.  Although sun's rays radiate upon everyone, the interior must ignite through recognition. 

What Shall I Be?

We conceive of ourselves, and then we are born.  One-pointedness may begin with the question:  What shall I be?  What is to be born in this moment?  The response activates mysterious universes never touched by the imagination before, whirling to life by the infusion of your breath, stirring nebulas, spinning galaxies, and animating possibilities.  One-pointedness draws your light to resolute attention in order to sustain the silent awe of witnessing the emergence of a soulful invocation.  If one has no capacity to focus and maintain, they will struggle with the very beginning stages of their own birth.  In other words, they will not have the power to conceive of themselves; rather, other people, other experiences and circumstances would have power over their own self-conception. Who would they be, then, but a wisp of hair flailing in the breeze or a faceless clone masquerading as an authentic person?

Our greatest gift is to embody our soul, to give form to our soul through a deep understanding that our resonance with our light must be consciously engaged by the conviction of quiet and penetrating inquiry.  True sacrifice is to proffer ego to the divine light within as a ritual of self-invocation.  Within this silent retreat, this moment of penetrating gaze, you sacrifice mental impulses, whims, meanderings, psychological entrapments, and amusements.  The distractions that are the activity of life are silenced by the stillness and luminescence of a soul that can only be touched by peeling away these layers so that there is nothing left, all is sacrificed but the nakedness of your soul.  This can be done daily, to sacrifice yourself at the altar-to be humbled by your own light and to hold that light within your consciousness as if you were holding a blazing torch lost in the deep of night searching your way back home. Sustain this activity of illumination and radiance for the torch’s fuel is ignited by your own awareness.  What shall you be?  Sacrifice yourself at the altar.

Dimension of One-pointedness

Dimension one is a very powerful dimension.  You devote your entire being in prostration-to the sacred fully, not compromised, relentlessly starved for this point of infatuation, this hunger strike that lights up your interior with divine penetration.  Our power to pierce the cosmic structures are achieved through a process of self-integration and alignment. We must have the hunger to assert our will, our desires, our intellect, our heart, to be in a state of yoga.  One must be hungry enough in order to bite the hook of divine's love, and focused enough in order to direct ourselves to the casted line.  Both ends are hungry on each side of the line.  The holy line has been cast, hungry for your attention.  May your own hunger instill a penetrating gaze that shines the light of awareness upon such a gloriously divine hook as that.

A fisherman is near. What hand that with this treasured sea can one cast their line with hope?  When does the hunger strike both sides of the line-that a feast may serve the man who strives-that a feast may appeal to the biting fish and the fisherman as one?

On whose side of the line does this fisherman feast as the skillet sizzles with fresh meat?  As with every feast there is a line cast by the hand of the divine.  And with her tender wishes, she whistles songs for you and a hook glimmering with fruition.  

Dimension one peels your ego away.  With authentic focus (on anything really) one can improve one's power over one's impulsive needs.  Impulsive needs are like starved piranhas, they swirl around you at the moment there is something to feed.  The more there is to feed, they multiply and devour your time, your space, your energy, your ability to create.  Dimension one is a profound dimension of true discipline.  If you have not practiced this devotion of concentration and focus, you are weak with your soul, dispersing your light every which way-misdirected, fumbling, needs-based, consuming leads to endless consumption and dissatisfaction.  Without the mastery of dimension one, a being is caught in the parade of impulses, lost at sea confused within the turbidity.  The life around you will seem unclear, "clear as mud," dark, chaotic.  

Indeed, the divine casts her line, hungry, starved for you.  Be grounded in one-pointedness and she will find you.