Tag: shadow

Heart of the Star

As the world twists and turns and ties itself in knots we may wonder, why is this so?

Because we fear to be close to love.

We fear we will lose ourselves in it.

And we would.

We would burn to a cinder in the heart of a star.

That is what real love is like.

All consuming.

So we foolishly maintain our distance.

Giordano Bruno and many others burned for that secret sacred love.

They counted all things as lost next to the incomparable reality of knowing love and joining with it.

This is why Jesus told the rich man, if one would have eternal life, sell all that you own and give your riches to the poor.

There is a great secret in those words.

If you would taste real joy, let nothing stand in the way.

If you foolishly think that love is only the possession of this or that religion, you are sadly mistaken.

For the lovers of God are everywhere.

They are beyond word.

They fly higher than you could possibly imagine, because they have been to the lowest depths.

If you want to know God, throw yourself into the heart of love.

There is no other way but that.

All else is just a half measure, a delusion.

The body wants to live forever.

In this, it is innocent.

But it cannot.

What is real in you, is forever.

The only way to set it free is to give yourself to the flames of love while you have breath.

For it is choosing love from our ignorance that creates the power to fuel a star for a billion years.

One can lose themselves to love in a moment, but it is better to be sanctified by love.

This is why we live.

Having the chance to choose it again and again is the gift of time.

Time is mercy.

Let it burn away resentment, vanity, cruelty, cowardice, possessiveness, and fear.

Love asks for everything you desire.

But what it takes is not what is real.

It takes only what was never truly yours.

What remains is only what is real.

blue fire

my mouth fills with warm red wine,
the blood of gods flows, rich and deep,
dripping over my exposed heart—
it awakens shadows long asleep.

my tongue explores the swirling tastes,
a bitterness beneath the sweet.
the ridges of my soul are traced,
where sorrow and renewal meet.

a blue flame flickers, softly born,
igniting shadows deep within.
a spark of purpose, sharp as thorn,
in the herald’s fullness, new life begins.

through sting of loss, I still recall
the sweetness buried in decay.
the rotting fruit, its death a call,
fuels flames that burn my grief away.

a luscious heat now fills my core,
a fractured spirit starts to mend.
despair flows upward, feeding more,
transforming pain to hope’s bright flame.

it trickles down, I swallow whole—
this fire, alive in every cell.
a warmth ignites my aching soul;
in a sip of wine, life’s last farewell

The Hard Fucking Work of Living with the Pain and Fear of this Life

Last night had the craziest dream about a gravitational anomaly eating a hole through the earth.

It was depressing and scary.

I kept trying to get further away from the anomaly but the water kept coming and then I was in this giant whirlpool that was spitting the earth into space.

So damn real.

My fear woke me up, I wanted out of that fucking dream.

I heard the ocean waves on my sound machine when I woke up and the central heater was running and I felt like there might be an ocean outside the window.

Sounded like it.

It turned out a military project triggered the event in my dream.

The mind is just amazing.

Since I stopped smoking pot I can remember my dreams incredibly vivid now.

I never thought I’d stop smoking pot, but I stopped drinking and smoking a bit ago and I can tell a big positive difference.

Switched to a vegan diet, started exercising more.

Feeling good, clear.

Got my shovel out and started shoveling the shit, put my back into it.

I was letting my body go.

But my heart and body brought me back.

I’m going to volunteer at hospice I think.

I have a knack helping people let go of their fear.

Maybe I can be of a little service to some before I shuffle off this mortal coil.

I’m 50 now and feel like I’ve lived four different lives.

Maybe I’ll read them poetry and shit like that.

Been working on my writing, can’t say it’s getting much better, but I’m keeping at it.

For I have found the best in life is incommunicable.

How bout that?!

Been writing about the folks I’ve come to know and love through their art, but want to know them deeper.

I want to know their pain and joy. Ralph Waldo Emerson has some good shit to say about that. He says know that all in history thought and felt as you did.

I’ve been digging deeper everywhere and have to say I’ve never felt more alive, focused, productive, calm, in love.

Had a surreal day on Saturday.

Very existential, was just accepting of the whole damn mess of this beautiful life.

Had some serenity I guess.

It was nice.

Had some fun and not so fun interactions with some folks on Reddit and FB.

Peeps are angry.

They don’t like their lives.

Downright miserable.

I like to swim out into the deep water with people.

Can’t say I’m very patient with misery.

Fuck that shit.

Recently even stopped fighting with my wife so much.

I love the girl, she’s crazy about my ole smelly 🐐 ass.

Been talking to my Brother more who I’ve never really talked much with

Been really nice to bond over our pedophile father and insanely religious family, haha.

What a fucked up family we got, let me tell you.

The brother of my sister’s husband killed himself.

Found out that fuck molested my niece years ago.

Found out my dad molested her too.

I hope it hurt when he died.

It’s tough not to wish my dad the pain he inflicted on others.

But I can’t judge anyone.

I never hurt a child, but I inflicted plenty of pain.

God only knows how many people my asshole Father hurt.

One reason my sister, mom and niece turned to Jesus.

The only man who wouldn’t hurt them they dream.

That is what makes them so mad at me.

Cause I turned my back on their savior.

I dared to kill my god.

But I tried to tell them, Jesus met me as a brother and friend, not god.

You can’t love your neighbor until you love the worst of you and the worst you find in life.

They can’t hear me at all.

I’m over their shit, I’ll tell ya.

Heartless bitches, but they are just in great pain.

Unbearable pain almost.

Almost killed my niece before she sobered up.

They hate me more than my puke dad.

How fucking ironic is that shit?!

My brother doesn’t understand it.

I kinda do.

I think I’m gonna write a bit more about my father and my old religion and those bitches.

I remember when he got his belt out and beat us the other day.

He must have hated himself.

He took it out on us.

Probably partially what made me such an angry asshole I guess.

It’s good when you know that fucking child disease is not in you.

My brother and I been going deep together.

We share these inner depth sounding experiences.

I feel like a big brother now.

I feel like a husband.

I feel like a friend.

Took me awhile to hit my stride, but I fucking did.

No, I’m not going to leave my marriage again like I did in the past.

I don’t quit shit anymore.

I follow through.

I won’t give up until I’m dead.

I wasted enough time in my life.

If I had known Plato and Socrates and Diogenes, I would have just had a beer with them and talked about the shit in life we all have to bear.

One thing I can say all us humans have in common, we feel this shit.

Deeply.

All these people in prison, destroyed children, terrified and hardened.

It hurts a lot.

One thing I have is some fucking deep emotions.

I’m very close to them now.

Not letting that pain twist us into monsters is the great work and art of living and dying.

Transmuting the shit of life into gold is godly I find.

I dunno, guess I worked my shit out.

But there is always more shit to shovel.

I’ll get back to it.

the poet drinks by moonlight

with the grey ghosts

with red eyes

until he pukes

he spits and cusses

at the birds

he pisses anywhere

he feels to leak

he kicks down doors 

seeking the face of his god

denying his existence

with venomous word

and dead thought

he shoots for the stars

anywhere he can find a vein

he wastes away

in a green haze

you seen god

he’s the flasher

on the corner

the priest who is waiting

the killer stalking prey

the deer shot in the heart

what fool would 

chase his own ass

the donkey wants 

the carrot 

not until he stops

does it swing his way

then a bus hits him

one day the poetic bum

fell down hard

laying there in the grass

a child sang a song

a flower bloomed

dogs barked

and for once 

the poet truly saw

through bloodshot eyes

and a bitchin headache

how much he hated life

how much he hated that song

when would it all stop

this is the best it gets

the way is no way

when you try to leave

you always arrive again

the poet drinks by moonlight 

and always ends up where 

he last felt his heart beat

Ashes of Love

flame casts no shadow
all can be seen by its light
source consumed
light and heat radiate
toss it all on
enjoy your feast dancing fairies
oh how they dance before me
over me and through me
captured in their beauty
i willingly give myself to
those dancing crimson flames
light and heat consume
love knows
no limits
no flesh
no fear
nothing can stop its dance
you can find me there
a pile of ashes in the corner

Synchronicity And Flow

Mandala_Golden_Flower_Jung
Mandala Golden Flower from Carl Jung Ex Patient

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what is in us.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

I had to reblog this below from An Accidental Anarchist, it was a question and answer in one for me when I read it. It is from an ex patient of Carl Jung. I think it stands pretty well on it’s own, those who read my blog, know of what it speaks. Interesting to see and experience the commonality of experience across a century. I echo the patient below, what a fool I was, but I still am today!

“Out of evil, much good has come to me.
By keeping quiet, repressing nothing,
remaining attentive, and by accepting
reality – taking things as they are, and not
as I wanted them to be – by doing all this,
unusual knowledge has come to me,
and unusual powers as well, such as I could
never have imagined before.

I always thought that when we accepted things
they overpowered us in some way or other.
This turns out not to be true at all, and it is
only by accepting them that one can assume
and attitude towards them.

So now I intend to play the game of life, being
receptive to whatever comes to me, good and
bad, sun and shadow forever alternating, and,
in this way, also accepting my own nature with
its positive and negative sides. Thus everything
becomes more alive to me.

What a fool I was! How I tried to force everything
to go according to way I thought it ought to.”

— an EX patient of C. G. Jung (Alchemical Studies, pg 47)

Waking Up in Plato’s Cave

image

True belief is like a statue.

Let us examine that statement. Our belief must be anchored as the statue is. Bodies and thoughts are always in motion.

How can we transform this belief that is now anchored like a statue into real knowledge?

It can’t become knowledge until it is thought of and experienced.

You think about it. But what if you can no longer think? You have to be electrified and shown your ignorance. It can be a painful process seemingly like torture.

You are made to examine your life and you are turned around and shown the difference between the sun and the shadow.

You feel dumb having thought the shadow was real.

Enlightenment and education thus seem natural. Release from the cave is natural and will happen for each in due course through a myriad of means.

It is unnatural to remain in the cave. Education infers responsibility. You were grabbed and led out of the cave and shown your ignorance until it arose in you to help others out of the cave into the Light.

You were able to see the Sun and then it was all clear.

The curse is you must now go back into the cave and help drag others out. It is natural for you to do so though.

They killed Socrates for leading us to the light.

Things are a little better for us since 500 BC, no?  Neoplatonism is the foundation of Christianity and Judiasm.

The illusion and shadow seems much more real now though.

But all you have to do is walk outside and smell the flowers today to wake up. The choice is much more clear now.

Act natural and go with the flow of your life or stay lost in shadow.

Shrug.

Your destiny is to stand free, in the Light.

In Between

we find ourselves
on the edge of oblivion
barely able
to hear and see
the game set by
the light and dark
we live in between
the possibilities

Movement

la.ca.knight.09_kpd60wnc
Susan Rothenberg – Moving in Place

forgetting wisps of matter

stillness where you are

being what you seek

love is all that moves

Shadow and Light

2555540

“Who has seen a shadow separated from the Light?” – Rumi

A poem from Rumi on the Shadow and Light within…

How does a part of the world leave the world?
How does wetness leave water?

Dont’ try to put out fire by throwing on 
more fire! Don’t wash a wound with blood. 

No matter how fast you run, your shadow 
keeps up. Sometimes it’s in front! 

Only full overhead sun diminishes your shadow. 
But that shadow has been serving you. 

What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is
your candle. Your boundaries are your quest.

I could explain this, but it will break the
glass cover on your heart, and there’s no
fixing that. 

You must have shadow and light source both. 
Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe. 

When from that tree feathers and wings sprout on you, 
be quieter than a dove.

Don’t even open your mouth for even a coo.

What is sin?
What are your sins?
Who did you hurt?
Are they too awful to be spoken?

Poor little you.
When you are done crying over spilled milk.
Wake up to what you are.
And stand.

You are what you are.