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Doorways: Push or Pull?
“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” — Socrates
A while back I was having terrible meditations. Nothing was working and nothing was happening. I realize that in some meditation systems that that is part of the point, but for Audinometry, the sound current meditation system I practice, that is not usually the case. It is a very active set of inner exercises, a bit like juggling between mental and spiritual gymnastics.
Anyway, this went on for days and days, which then became weeks. I tried all kinds of things. Every technique I knew about. Every technique that usually got me out of anything like this. I started doubting everything. Myself, the people around me, the world in general. I was in trouble and it seemed there was no cavalry in the distance. My attitude was in the toilet, and I starting not caring if it got flushed down the pike.
Those weeks became more than a month, and I had just about forgotten what a good meditation was. And I knew I was in trouble when I just gave up and didn’t care at all anymore. But because I didn’t care I did nothing. I just raised my hands. Walked off. Gave up. Who cares?
Simple Humility
“There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.” — Ernest Hemingway
I think we could all probably do with a dose of humility on more regular occasion than we actually practice it.
Every morning for the past forty plus years I have tried to take the time to sit down and meditate. But sometimes now it seems to be more out of habit than anything, until I have an experience or set of experiences that remind me how important it is.
At times as I sit in the solitude of my own being I can sense what a tiny speck in the vastness of creation I am. Then my ego may chime in and disagree and start tooting my horn about my greatness. I sit back and observe this goings on, sometimes chuckle a bit and then try to comprehend what is actually going on.
Many spiritual teachers (as well as mine) have spoken about how this world is essentially a grand illusion. As if we are inside a virtual reality simulation, running for our mutual, what? Amusement? Demise? Actually, it seems like it’s probably a school of some kind. A type of precursor or test to see what we would do if actually presented with all this in our world, as if it was real. How would we act? How would we treat others? How would we treat the world? How would we treat ourselves? How would we do on the test?
Creating Universes
Language is a process of free creation; its laws and principles are fixed, but the manner in which the principles of generation are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretation and use of words involves a process of free creation.
— Noam Chomsky
Retro time, or a glimpse at some bad alliterating? Ah yes, this is an odd simple poem I wrote at the tender age of 15, which happens to be over 45 years ago. How time flies, and hopefully whatever you learn to create improves with time, age, and experience. Or maybe not …
Creating Universes
Whistle me a tune
very soon,
if you can.
Play me a song
so very long,
I’m such a fan.
Write me a poem
about all them,
not your clan.
Paint me a picture
of their nature,
not too tan.
Cut me a sculpture
without a rupture
they won’t ban.
Now look back at this universe,
neither crude nor perverse,
and with an arrogant nod,
proclaim yourself a God.
Ha, we all make mistakes and grow, right?
TMC
Shasta Discovery
“When I first caught sight of it over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley, I was fifty miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.”
— John Muir
When I first heard of Mt. Shasta I had never actually heard of it before. Of course, I had drank Shasta Cola a few times as a kid, but I never really knew there was a real mountain called Shasta. Until that spring of ’72.
As I previously stated in part 2 of my 3-part blog entry ‘Mt Spiritual Adventure,’ my meditation teacher told me in spring about a retreat that was to take place up there in mid-summer. By early summer there was a lot of talk among some of my new-found meditation friends about who was going to make this spiritual trek to northern California … to that mountain called Shasta. A mountain that had a reputation as a sacred, mystical mountain drawing people from all over the world, as if a spiritual mecca of the west.
At that time I didn’t count myself on that list. I wasn’t sure I could get the money together, get time off work, or had a decent enough car to make such a long journey from Texas to a place I knew very little about. At least I wasn’t in summer school (I was 20 and in college at UT Austin) that year, so that wasn’t a problem. But the obstacles were there, and so I wrote it all off.
Azmirenda
Trekking, even at times floating, upstream along the banks of this vibrant stream,
I reflect upon how simply generous today has always been.
Up ahead this so vibrant stream fed from a simple, still, and silver pool,
and nourished in the far sky by the setting of a burning, white hot sun.
In the distance a waterfall gushed from behind a long, dark shadow,
and I wonder, yes oh wonder, what secrets it must hide today.
Yet I know in this pristine moment it’s time to align my lower self and my higher self,
and my heart, my mind, my spirit, my soul, my very being,
within the ears and eyes of a principle, singing consciousness of high creation.
For now tomorrow shall be even more wondrous inside this eternity’s dream.
And then a dragon stuck her head from behind that long, dark shadow,
and into the silver light before me, as I fearlessly faced her eye to eye,
she smiled slightly, signaling her helping spirit,
and welcomed me into creation’s eternal land of happiness.
And she said her name was … Azmirenda.
And then I told her mine …
TMC