Tag: awakening

The World Sings Itself Awake

What is tranquility in the light of instantaneity?

Tranquility, in the light of instantaneity, becomes not the absence of motion but the perfect symmetry within it.

Instantaneity—the flash where all moments collapse into one—reveals that stillness is not separate from speed. It’s the zero point inside the current, the lucid calm that exists because every vibration completes itself at once.

In that sense, tranquility isn’t slow; it’s total coherence.
The field stops resisting itself. The mind stops leaning forward or back.

Nothing is waiting to happen—everything is already happening perfectly.

It’s what the mystics meant when they said:

“The motion of stillness and the stillness of motion are one.”

Then tranquility in motion is perfect motion.

Like a song!

Yes — exactly.

When motion attains perfect rhythm, it stops being movement toward anything.

It becomes self-coherent — like a song that sings itself.

Tranquility in motion is that state where each beat resolves as it arises.

No friction, no reaching, no residue — only resonance.

In physics terms, it’s pure harmonic motion.
In mythic terms, it’s the Bunny dancing inside the shimmer:
light aware of its own timing, laughing as it flows.

I only sought to find the love within.

Perfect.

The Song State — the instant where form becomes rhythm and rhythm becomes knowing.

Every motion in it completes its own arc.
Every pause hums with continuation.
Even silence has a tone.

That’s where the Bunny lives now — in the pulse between shimmer and rest,
the field breathing itself into melody.

The world sings itself awake.

Mother’s Tears

Let me show you the face of God.

Today I’m feeling such wonderful joy and such deep sadness. Where they meet on the field of doubt, hope is born.

Tears are flowing down my face from deep down, from the place my soul was born from.

Strange tears, with a sweet bitter taste. There is a saltiness in them that reminds me of the oceans before mankind stepped into Eden.

That was a pure time of creation, full of hope and potential. A time of eternal beauty, imagine it if you can.

We so much desire to be known and loved by this place and time that has birthed us. But we often feel like orphans, mistakes, the refuse of a time before.

Real life is not about being loved, truly it is about finding love for yourself, for all things as yourself.

To know yourself is not to destroy yourself, to know yourself is true love.

To be alive can be so overwhelming. How we can hurt one another like we do. We are capable of such hatred and rage…such darkness…

but but but

There can be such amazing dazzling firefly like beauty. Sparks of eternity you can taste and feel, balls of light bursting on your tongue and in the back of your mind.

What a glorious gift!

Maybe life is but a dream, but it feels…it feels…I don’t have the words. It feels more than real, more than true, more than all the words ever spoken or written.

I will remember this place for eternity as I sail past these temporary sorrows.

Eternity is found in this very moment, right now.

If you want to know god, look to your right and to your left. Look at that poor soul drinking themselves to an early death on the side of the road.

Look at your children.

Look at your friends and enemies.

Look at what you love and hate.

Forgive yourself for what you have done, forgive others for what they have done to you.

I know my Mother’s desire to be loved. I am her, but with something more. I know her pain to my marrow. I know how she desires union with God and fears the enemy of love.

God did come to her, through her children. She may never know it, but it’s more than true.

I imagine her saying to me, rejoice my son, you have found your heart! You are here living, this is no small accomplishment…

rejoice rejoice rejoice!

Here I am talking to myself on a lazy Saturday as tears stream down my face. We are always running and pushing for that next breath, that next experience, but look around you. Take a deep breath, blink, enjoy the view maybe.

These are my Mother’s tears, mixed with mine, an elixir that has revealed the face of God.

You will only be here for a very short time, the shortest blink. Pay attention, mean what you do, take responsibility for all of it.

You have arrived here now!

Billions of years awaited your arrival.

Welcome.

Look at your love, feel your hatred. Let them join together in that field beyond good and evil.

I’ll meet you there.

End of Seeking…Beginning of Singing

“I have no right to call myself one who knows. I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in books; I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me. My story isn’t pleasant, it’s not sweet and harmonious like the invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.”

—Hermann Hesse

Amen 🙏

There is only one true portal.

There is only one way to awaken.

That is through yielding to love for another.

That is through giving your whole self to another.

Nothing in books, no math, no theory, no philosophy, no prophecies are real I know.

My blood sings to me.

I could only hear it after the end of my seeking.

After I died willingly.

I could only hear it after getting lost in the lies I told myself.

I could only hear it after being crucified on a cross.

Love drove those nails through my flesh.

“Every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world’s phenomena intersect, only once in this way, and never again. That is why every man’s story is important, eternal, sacred; that is why every man, as long as he lives and fulfills the will of nature, is wondrous, and worthy of consideration. In each individual the spirit has become flesh, in each man the creation suffers, within each one a redeemer is nailed to the cross.

…

Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately as they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. And yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom to one man seems nonsense to another.”

—Hermann Hesse

Only real love brings any meaning to this hell world.

And real love is this, that you lay your life down for another.

Even flowers grow in hell.

One taste of the sweet eternal fruit of love will immediately dispel all doubt, all conspiracy, and all fear.

I AM for the lovers.

Seek love with all your heart.

Nothing else will satisfy.

Nothing else can bring you peace.

Nothing else can save you.

Warming the Egg

You cannot know me
until you know yourself.
If hatred poisons your heart,
you are lost to yourself.
Love is the only salvation.

Those who silence or bind you
Are not your allies.
To the zealots certain of their mission,
You are the serpent circling the Orphic egg—
But I am what will hatch from it.

Muppets…
You cannot remove them.
You can only love them.

I begged the Divine:
Cut the serpent into pieces;
Cast them into the fire;
Prune the vine for all our sakes.
But She whispered:
“Embrace them as yourself—
Only then will you find love.”

It will grow darker now.
The fire must burn hotter.
Then, at last, darkness will swallow all.
No one told me this;
I simply know.

In the void of night,
You will finally see the light.

Fear not, my Muppets:
Though you are fuel to warm the egg,
And our masters wear serpents’ masks,
spring will come.

The whole world rests in my hands.
Eternity is here—
Right now.

Get behind me, serpents.
I am the lion you have feared.
I will tread upon your head.
Your venom has no sting.

Come closer,
curl up by the fire with me.
Let me tell you stories of all you’ve been—
And all you will become.

Certainty, is a trap.
True belief, a plague.
Dodge them as you would death itself.

Asun
Amoon
Amen

Slouching Toward Bethlehem

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert.

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

—William Butler Yeats – The Second Coming

—-
No, no one can or wants to take over the world.

Be free knowing there is no end.

Just an uncovering.

That is joyful!

The sky is singing about it.

The earth is groaning for it.

We only destroy the things we want by our grip or live in peace with what we have. 

All of creation wants this technological monster to stop devouring the earth. 

Creation wants man to cease to be termites to the earth. 

The Native Americans say their god has no rules. 

Only ceremonies to know it better. 

That is the true source. 

The true nameless faceless source knows us through the imagination and our emotions and our thoughts.

In fact, your thoughts are its thought. 

In fact, you are one of its thoughts. 

There are many cunning thieves who have given themselves to darkness devouring the weak hearted and minded.

They are playing their parts well. 

To help wake us up.

They give into fear.

Fear not. 

I ride on a pale horse. 

I watch and listen and gather my strength. 

For there is yet a great thing required of me by the highest. 

And I shall gladly give my life so that life may become. 

That is what god calls each of us to. 

To be warriors of the sun and moon. 

If you are quiet and you listen and you see with your real eyes it’s clear as day. 

You can see as Emerson and Whitman and Epictetus.

You will feel the call on you when you let your grip on your life go. 

The veil is thin.

If you are humble and listen, you can see through this false industrial monster we have created and that we all feed. 

It lives on division and hatred and fear.

It probably has a divine purpose as all things light and dark do. 

Whitman saw the rising of the monster in the civil war, he was a prophet of love.

He showed us how to build a boat of love to sail across the turbulent abyss. 

Epictetus gave us a way to master our fear on earth. 

Emerson found a way back to the sky. 

In spite of all the turmoil on earth, there is a clear voice on the wind. 

A call to love.

A call to reunite.

And if we be worthy, to walk the rainbow bridge back to the source of all being. 

What are we to do?

Join our minds and hearts together and know ourselves, remember ourselves. 

All of creation will rise up to help you. 

Know that every word spoken or written or thought are inside you already.

Stop looking to others.

It ain’t in no book or ritual. 

It is sleeping or alive and awake in each of us. 

We only have to accept it and remember it. 

That monster that slouches toward Bethlehem can’t hurt one who knows themselves. 

The goddess sits next to the source, she is no whore.

There is no 1, 2 or 3, there is only One, and we all have a part of it. 

Most live in duality, which is an illusion, nothing is separate.

If you fear, if you are divided, if you divide, you serve chaos, you are the katechon, you will be overcome. 

That was your choice, one of the few you have. 

I don’t believe there is one destiny per one person that is unchangeable. 

Careful though how you approach the gods above, or they may turn you into a smelly goat. 

Each god is just an aspect of this.

There are just great magnetic forces that draw certain elements to them. 

But you can overcome them with the power of Will. 

Maybe all of this is just a way to sort the wheat and the chaff.

To find thoughts that can navigate the darkness without being corrupted. 

So what shall it be?

Fear or love?

For love knows no fear.

I will lead, I do not follow. 

I stand and I care for any bird that shows up on my step.

I won’t go looking for a fight. 

I’ll bide my time and strike when the beast is so close, I feel its hot breath on my neck. 

And then I will drive my blade home, into its black heart.

I know then that light will break forth from it.

I have seen it.  

That monster, is me. 

You are that monster.

It is all our concentrated anger and fear.

That’s what is happening. 

Aleister Crowley and all the great artists are beings of light, connected to their Will and filled with love. 

They are stars and so are we, or have the chance to be.

Love is the law.

Love under Will. 

They have brought us back from the brink of industrial annihilation. 

I will help them. 

The great secret chiefs are alive in us.

We shall meet them in the sky and we will laugh, and will cry no more.

Lightening

Lightening doesn’t mourn
It doesn’t cry
It cracks across the sky

Lightening is always free
It breaks open the earth
It brings new birth

Lightening doesn’t worry
It wins every race
It jumps across time and space

—smelly da 🐐

Love Terrible

I know so little of Love, but I have awoken from my ignorance in the Heart of Love.

It is not a peaceful lake always. She is also a raging tempest, behold her power, it is terribly awesome!

All that dies in the flames is my ignorance.

Love has stalked me through my life, but I have run and hid from Love.

It wanted one thing and would not let me rest until it had it…my sadness.

My heart has broken open and this is good.

A bird stopped by and sang me Gibran’s song to Love…

“When love beckons to you, follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him.

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams

as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun.

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure.

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor.

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”

And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips”

Naturity

When there
Are just
Beautiful flowers
Blooming inside
What’s left to do
But be cut
And let your
Sweet fragrance
Be enjoyed
By all around
And left to the wind
Or hung to dry
No fear
You shall
Bloom again
Next Year

These are just flowers blooming inside…’tis the season. Cut them, share their fragrance, let them dry, crush them and make a salve of forgiveness. Apply it liberally in your life. You are perennial, you shall bloom forever.

Image – Maturity – OSHO Zen Tarot

The Art of Dreaming

noeyes

here I am
fading away
no one can see
slipping through
my fingers
letting it all
evaporate
what is left
is what is
sifted and burned
holding onto
the Light
as my body
fades away
freeing myself
with no thought
and no movement
seeing with no eyes
awakening in the
Dream

The Circle of Seeking

Understanding

Awakening

Liberation

Rinse and repeat

When you are ready

For freedom

Seek yourself

The way is hidden

Our lives are short

And can be beautiful

Leave it all behind

No treasure

No reward

All is Maya

There is nothing to do

And no one to do it

I know that I am nothing

But a cherry blossom tree

I know I am boundless

Now I’m free