Standing

Sometimes, well, most times
You are standing here
Looking down
In the place you stand
You may see
Your feet in the mud
Or in water
Or on dry land
Or in a forest
Or on the rocks
Or in the sand
One may feel fear
While another has a beer
Fear not
Standing where you are
Is the beginning
And end of it
Taking a step
Is a whole other matter
Wherever you stand
Know we all stand with you
In the same place
You stand as I stand
You think as I think
You feel as I feel
Billions living the same life
Boggles the mind
Weakens the knees
Listen to the wind blow
Through the trees
Look how the wind
Makes waves in the water
Remember what time
Has forgotten
A tree can only stand
As witness to life
Watching the birds and bees
Perhaps you and I are trees
We sing songs as we feel
The wind blowing through our leaves

🍃 🍁 🍃 🍂

Thunder Perfect Mind

I know both her faces. 

I have met her in the women I have loved.

She was born of the source and she birthed the source in time. 

I have hated and loved her.

I have cursed and praised her. 

She is the wisdom of the Greeks.

She is the knowledge of the Barbarians.

She is the White Buffalo Calf Woman.

She brought the Seven Sacred Rites to the Lakota. 

History is not fact, it is narrative. 

What does she want of us?

She will never let me go.

She echos in my heart and mind. 

She soothes my soul and makes me rage.

Every real man has had to contend with her in time.

Lilith and Eve. 

How to pierce her duality?

When I go to my resting place beyond time, she will meet me there and I will live and not die again. 

My head hurts. 

But I am sober. 

My heart longs to be worthy of her, but I fear her. 

I feel she wants to eat my heart. 

Maybe I have to give it to her willingly.

I would not be here now without her.

The way my wife clings to me, is like how she grasps for me. 

I have always pushed my women away. 

Out of fear of being loved and known and maybe exposed as the weakling I can be. 

But now, I am falling into a black hole.

Dying My Last Breath

Oh the echoes in my mind
From ancient times to midnight row
What a distance the golden bird has flown
I’m running with the wolves tonight
I dream of being alive
Will we ever speak again
Can I have back what I broke
I have born the scorn of the forlorn
I sit here on a sunken boat

23

The everyday mind: that is the way.
Buried in vines and rock-bound caves,
Here it’s wild, here I am free,
Idling with the white clouds, my friends.
Tracks here never reach the world;
No-mind, so what can shift my thought?
I sit the night through on a bed of stone,
While the moon climbs Cold Mountain.

—Hanshan

96

Have I a body or have I none?

Am I who I am or am I not?

Pondering these questions,

I sit leaning against the cliff while the

years go by,

Till the green grass grows between my feet

And the red dust settles on my head,

And the men of the world, thinking me dead,

Come with offerings of wine and fruit

to lay by my corpse.

—Cold Mountain

Free Falling into Mystery

Dune has been a favorite sci-fi book series of mine since I was a kid.

I have been writing about how reason leads into mystery.

I have been writing about the inner fire of our will.

Sharing poetry that flows.

So yesterday all those themes came to a head when I saw the new Dune movie.

I was moved by a vision Paul had seeing a man he would kill tell him about life after his people had been betrayed and his father killed.

“The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to experience.” – Jamis

Paul hears Jamis in one of his visions where the Fremen explains how people “must move with the flow of the process” and “join it,” making sure that they “flow with it.” While he likely wasn’t referring to controlling aircraft, Paul uses his advice to get away from the storm and land safely in the desert. By simply going with the flow and experiencing “the mystery of life,” the young heir learns an important lesson about learning to let go.

What is noteworthy is how he stops trying to fly his aircraft in a sand storm and he closes his eyes and the flow takes him out of the storm.

This is how life can flow.

This is how you let go and let the mystery take you.

Happy flyin and free fallin.

Crane in Motion

Caught in Amador, CA last weekend.

93

Here is a tree older than the forest itself;

The years of its life defy reckoning.

Its roots have seen the upheavals of hill and valley,

Its leaves have known the changes of wind and frost.

The world laughs at its shoddy exterior

And cares nothing for the fine grain of the wood inside.

Stripped free of flesh and hide,

All that remains is the core of truth.

—Cold Mountain 🏔

97

My mind is like the autumn moon
Shining clean and clear in the green pool.
No, that’s not a good comparison.
Tell me, how shall I explain?

—Cold Mountain

Behold, Your Daimon

Where does great inspiration and expression come from?

What force drives the madman and great artist or athlete?

Now hold on here, what am I talking about.

Some cannot speak or look inside themselves.

They are storms on earth.

This is a force inside of us, but not our ego.

The Daimon/Daemon is a shapeshifter. 

Part of your mind you can’t pin down. 

You have to feel and think what it feels and thinks. 

It’s like a storm.

We have erected social hedges against it. 

It is like a volcanic eruption. 

Not rational. 

The Daimon feels what nature wants to do through you. 

It is nature in you. 

It told Socrates what not to do, not what to do. 

I listen to my daimon. 

I have seen and communicated with it in many ways.

It is will. 

Fate.

An impersonal force for some. 

Some can integrate it. 

You have to negotiate.

It can punish you and doesn’t care to keep you safe. 

You can give it too much. 

You can surrender to it. 

Hitler followed his nonstop. 

Trump follows his Daimon without question. 

There is no introspection, which is its weakness.

It is not a force of good, it is a force of nature. 

It is immoral, neutral. 

If you don’t think you have one, you are a fool and a muppet. 

A blind robot. 

The ego can negotiate with it, mediates it. 

You don’t delete your ego!

God no!

Daimon does what it does. 

It is what it is.

Your effectiveness depends on your own quality and strength around your will.

I am constantly negotiating with it. 

Don’t surrender to it. 

Don’t ignore it. 

You make yourself irrelevant to deny this force. 

You have to dance and wrestle with it. 

Use your ego’s moral discernment. 

Only you can mediate it.

Honor it. 

You have to eat and work and get along. 

It doesn’t want your best. 

It wants to move through you. 

I have listened often to my Daimon and jumped when it pushed.

It creates psychic disease and physical. 

It makes you into a ufo nutcase. 

Or a conspiracy nutcase. 

Or a trump zombie. 

That is a group consciousness.

You become mindless. 

Doing the bidding of pure will.

Pretty crazy move to go all in with it.

But I did.

It can posses you.

It is Legion.

You can reason with it but it is not reasonable.

You can create a space the Daimon sees when one is open to it. 

You have to acknowledge it and give it space. 

This is part of you, but not you. 

Nature doesn’t change if you don’t understand.

The storm will always be there. 

It has tremendous power. 

Tremendous!

It loves to be acknowledged and given space.

The trickster. 

You have to sharpen your inner hearing.

I was quite amazed to meet it. 

In every psychedelic trip, it is there.

In your dreams you are always meeting it.

You can come to feel its feelings and thoughts.

To give it voice is to sing like the stars.

I speak of forbidden things and forgotten dreams.

I write with my Daimon and make art with it.

It is life. 

It flows in everything.

Once you see it, you can never go back.

Wisdom becomes a curse in away.

We are innocent for only a whsiper of time.

It is guiding us, even into a wall.

Schopenhauer knew it well, when he said, the Will is blind. 

Guide it, focus it and you will go far.

Ignore it at your peril.