Wednesday, April 29, 2009



Often it seems, I have been striving forever. There is a yearning, stretching and reaching that goes from infinity to infinity.

It feels like some kind of eternal responsibility laying on my shoulders - to extend, attend and intend. If I don’t do it, who will?

But who am “I” to do all this anyway? Maybe the yearning, stretching and reaching is coming in as much as seeming to go out.

Maybe something else is extending, attending and intending toward me just as fervently as I am toward it!

To see it this way takes some of the load off my shoulders.

Is it that I want the connection, or that the connection wants me?

So I think
just letting go
and trusting the process
to fulfill its own way
in its own way
is better

And what helps in letting go is this:

To willingly feel

how much


how long

that separation




Monday, April 27, 2009

Keep Fishing

Keep Fishing

I watched young men fishing for sturgeon on the Willamette River just downstream from Willamette Falls. Sometimes one of these powerful fish would take the bait and a long, hard struggle would ensue between the catcher and the caught.

Meanwhile the boat - in which the fisherman waged his battle against the unseen creature at the end of his line - tossed and twisted chaotically in the river’s swirling currents.

However the boat pitched, the fisherman adjusted his balance deftly to keep his feet against a force quite capable of pulling him into the water headfirst.

This haphazard churning of water seemed a metaphor for the way emotional experiences and feelings arise from within. One day a person feels up, the next down - without anything having happened to cause a change.

And when that “down” feeling comes, there is often a desire or attempt to do something about it – to suppress it, deflect it, basically remedy it somehow since it seems to be “wrong.”

But watching this elemental fishing scene conveyed a message:

Accept the watery currents as they come, don’t resist them.

And just keep fishing!

Fishing for what? Well, Jesus said,

“Follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Mat. 4:19).

Seems like the first person that needs to be caught is . . . me.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Dissolving Problems

Dissolving Problems

I sought to solve my problematic life situations. Some of these were so complex, complicated and convoluted that solutions seemed impossible.

So then I sought to resolve them instead. Resolution could be considered a way to make peace with something that can’t be solved, dealing with the psychic rather than just the physical aspects of the situation.

But then I had a dream. Problems of all kinds were presented, one after another in rapid succession. A computer keyboard appeared and I was supposed to type the answers to these problems - right and wrong, yes or no to the challenging scenarios flashing by.

I felt how much effort this would take, how difficult and unrewarding it would be. There was a sense of futility mixed with obligation implied with each one.

And I said, No – I don’t have to do this.

I pushed the keyboard away. Released, let go . . . and the problems dissolved.

So there are solution, resolution and dissolution. But the greatest of these is dissolution.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Overlooking the Bay

Overlooking the Bay

He was walking briskly in my direction across a parking lot toward an automated teller machine. He looked as smart as he moved, classy business suit and brief case, sunglasses setting off a fashionable power haircut.

It seemed he had it all and knew it, and was going to the automated teller to cash in. It seemed like nothing but business was on his mind.

Just then my attention was drawn to the greater milieu in which this little scene was unfolding. Behind this man with his focused intentions was a magnificent bay of limpid opal water.

Inviting hills rose on all sides, lush with gorgeous flowers of every hue. The sun was yet low in the morning sky, casting soothing rays of light on the paradisical setting.

The sight of this unassuming magnificence wrought a sudden and unexpected shift in my perception - the desire to release that man and all he represented.

To let go as one might unclench a fist and allow sand to flow through the fingers freely.

It would be possible to walk in his world and yet live in the world beyond him.

This I saw . . . on the parking lot by the automated teller machine overlooking the bay.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Finding Bridges

Finding Bridges

Finding bridges was always so necessary - a drastic imperative
shouting in the night.

For without them existence was too lonely. Like lost
worlds tumbling through the universe, light-eons from other
inhabited planets.

The bridge could make a connection from one realm to another, even though only intangibles crossed it.

Such intangibles as thought and feeling, expressed through something equally mystifying - words.

Strange entities, words! Eternal yet transient, requiring repetition
with every use, necessitating resurrection from their inevitable decay into silence.

There was a constant vigilant search for bridges, across which such yearning words could fly like carrier pigeons.

Bridges by which those same birds might return bearing distant messages of hope and comfort.

Until finally an unexpected message returned: “Be content without bridges.”

Then the words that had sought to flee upon pigeons swirled madly and forlornly.

Until swallowed up at last . . . by Silence.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009



As an infant, I drank nothing but milk. Now, I have but a teaspoon in my morning coffee.

As a toddler, I ate creamy substances from tiny bottles. Now I never touch the stuff.

As a boy I hated sweet potatoes because they made me nauseous. Now I love them.

Not that long ago I abhorred the intense taste of ginger. Now it has become a delicacy.

What a person wants and needs changes through life. What was appropriate during formative years may be inadequate for more mature periods, and vice versa.

What I believed about the nature of the cosmos as a child is not what I believed as a young man, nor is either of them what I believe now.

Some people propose that one point of view is sufficient for an entire lifetime. And there are some for whom this is their reality.

But I have seen that the things which nourish change over time.

And that to resist this is to deny and frustrate the hunger of one’s own heart.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Starving Addictions

Starving Addictions

I’ve never been to an AA meeting, probably never WILL be to one. My addictions are fairly low-profile. But they have teeth, just the same.

There’s salt, something I adore on nearly everything. And there's that glass of wine in the evening (which can turn in to two or three without anything like a cautionary inebriation occurring).

But there's many other things as well, whose subtlety makes them nearly invisible. All these coalesce into my “comfort zone.”

The big ticket items in my comfort zone have to do with relationships and the emotional energy surrounding relationships. If anything in this arena negatively red-lines or pegs the needle then it is by default “a bad day,” with no second opinion required.

Yes I understand that, cosmically speaking, we are all interconnected. In the mind of God (I’m told) we are all ONE, even.

Nevertheless, it seems my emotional membranes should function for the integrity and protection of this human organism called by the name of me. They should pass items of energetic interest in and out only according to what will most benefit and promote healthy growth.

That this hasn’t been the case most of my life is stunningly evident. I have a lopsided emotional condition, apparently much deformed and misshapen. The result of this state has been a floundering path through the world map something like a bird trying to fly with one wing.

My heart must look like one of those archery targets that’s been left on the field for a couple seasons – torn and limp, pocked full of holes, decaying straw hanging out.

So what to do? Starve some addictions. Maybe that logic isn’t clear to others but it works for me.

In other words, become more at ease with feeling very much ill at ease. Stray out of the comfort zone and breathe some fresh new air.

Less salt, less wine, less drama of every kine.

And that will have to do for now.

Friday, April 17, 2009

The Ticket

The Ticket

The ticket was purchased because you wanted to get somewhere.

The train was going to that place – at least that’s what the schedule said.

You got in the coach and took a seat, but grew weary with standing in the station.

You sat there urging the train to move. Exerting your will and gritting your teeth.

And making yourself miserable in the process.

“Will this train ever start going?” you groaned.

After a while the conductor came by and looked at your ticket. He nodded.

“Good choice of destinations,” he said sagely. “A lot of people talk about visiting that place, but not many do.”

“But when are we leaving?” Your frustration was glaringly evident.

The conductor smiled - comprehending, compassionate. Without a word he pulled up the shade on the window, which had been closed.

You looked out and were amazed to see scenery passing by.

“The train starts gently,” he said. “It’s easy to miss.”

The conductor patted you on the shoulder.

“Nothing to do now but enjoy the ride,” he said.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Dragon Jewel

The Dragon Jewel

The Darkness was like a dragon, with sharp claws and teeth binding the world into ignorance and misery. It coiled throughout the cosmos, blanketing life with serpentine vapors, suffocating and horrid. Yet in one claw it held a wish-granting jewel.

At last the gem begins to awaken, its surface glowing with gentle light. The sleep of death diffuses and the clenched coils of the beast gradually release their grip.

The flow of light, the movement of life, is unobstructed at last. Sensations arise so acute they are both pleasure and pain, a joy poignant with eons of sorrow and sacrifice - all moving into the embrace of eternity.

Darkness fades as dawn breaks. The dragon who embodied it surrenders his wrath. The monster had been keeper of truth, protector of mysteries, defender of the faith. Now he lays down his treasure humbly and serves the children of the day.

His strength becomes their fortress.

The wondrous jewel gleams, its brilliant innumerable facets illuminating a universe of limitless love.

And the day begins.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Distant Mountains

Distant Mountains

An image sometimes appears within of a peaked mountain, sharp and foreboding, seemingly impassable. There is nothing inviting about this jagged rock – it stands as a threat and taunt as though saying, “You shall not pass!”

OK, fine, one responds. I don’t WANT to pass!

But the image also implies movement – TOWARD the mountain! Like it or not, there a definite sense of getting closer, as of a destiny that cannot be avoided.

Not surprisingly, this impression generates a lot of emotional angst, feelings of helplessness, impending doom and unavoidable loss.

From a distance the mountain seems utterly hostile and unwelcoming. One supposes there is no possible path either through or around it. The imagination conceives a bitter and fruitless struggle with unforgiving elements resulting in sure annihilation and death.

After this image has come repeatedly, one begins to realize it is conveying a message. There is something inside the person that needs to be faced - some kind of awareness or experience is looming that seems infinitely scary and insurmountable.

One’s heart quails and wants to give up without even trying.

But along with this image comes something else, as though a little companion was journeying in your pocket.

“Just take the next step,” the tiny fellow says. There is a note of encouragement in its voice, a tone of subtle confidence. It KNOWS something.

Somehow you do it. You take the next step.

“Just take another step,” the whispery voice says again from your pocket.

You feel not quite so alone now. The foot moves forward, the path is progressed incrementally, the view shifts slightly.

Time after patient time, the voice bids you toward that menacing mass of rock and rubble that looks so impenetrable. It never falters, though there are times your fears drown out its soft assurance.

“You can do it,” the voice says again, never upset with pause or delay. “You ARE doing it.”

The days pass, the feet move falteringly along, and you gradually realize that there IS a path leading into and through that mountain.

The path is opening before you.

And you never would have known about it except for one thing:

You took the next step.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Bridging Realms

Bridging Realms

I read something from Michael Brown about a

“state of mind and heart that is consciously anchored in the physical and humbly extending itself into the spiritual.”

What a striking description of the continuity of consciousness from one realm to another, the flow of awareness, attention and intention!

Sometimes it seems the effort one makes is the reverse of that, namely

to be consciously anchored in the spiritual while humbly extending into the physical.

The body then seems like a mysterious appendage that is simultaneously both “me” and “not me” (reminiscent of my Vietnamese walking sticks named Bob and Not Bob).

We are in our body and identify with it, while not REALLY being in it, in the sense of being consciously anchored there, feeling what is going on at the cellular level where peptides and enzymes are communicating complex emotional messages back and forth which we become conscious of only after a groundswell of energetic activity occurs.

And simultaneous to this incoherency there is the assumption that we can barge into the spiritual realm under an entitlement point of view, as though being whoever we think we are gives us rights there.

What a great adventure it is to be human! What a catastrophic experience!

Where being in control and out of control merge into unity.

And being both “me” and “not me” is totally possible.

Monday, April 13, 2009



I have been reflecting on the subject of anonymity, since it sometimes comes up as a question.

Why write anonymously?

In the past I have been gratified to see my name in print on over one hundred published magazine articles, seven books, various writings appearing on the Internet, etc.

But a definite identification occurs with this. There is a “reputation” (at least in the writer’s mind) to maintain, an image to uphold.

Those considerations seem limiting and counterproductive right now. More important is the freedom to express whatever emerges, however difficult that may be for me to get out or for a reader to get in.

Also, what does it matter what we call ourselves? Names are just labels after all, arbitrary appellations.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” said Shakepeare (which may not have been his true name).

And finally, are we not all ultimately anonymous? Do I know myself? Not really.

So can anyone else expect to do so?

If my name clings after the body is gone, I'll let you know.

Until then,

I am Nesia
Living in an Onymity

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Embracing Hell

Embracing Hell

In the Western Christian tradition the period between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is dead time. That sounds like a pun but it is pretty much the case in terms what is perceived to be going on with the crucified Jesus. He is presumed to be lying stone dead, twiddling spiritual thumbs perhaps, and waiting until the angels come to roll away the stone and get him out of the tomb.

In the Eastern Christian tradition those “three days” in the tomb are filled with purposeful doing. Though the details remain mysterious, Scriptures indicate that Jesus descended into hell itself, defeated death and rescued those that had been incarcerated in Hades since the beginning of time.

The Orthodox iconography of this is very striking: Christ pulls Adam and Eve from their graves as lightly as tapestries, while the conquered Satan writhes beneath, doomed to be “bound for a thousand years.”

This sacred story with its symbolism suggests also the path of the individual soul as it unfolds. The crucifixion, when it occurs, breaks the mask of self and ego. Then one descends into what was formerly impassable, that supposedly “dead” realm where hideous and ghastly forms of “evil” have bound the father and mother of humanity.

Satan then is exposed and seen. Fear made him a monster, but now the light comes and hell loses its power to frighten and control.

There is some similarity in this depiction to the Palden Lhamo. To consider this Buddhist iconography superficially is to be appalled by its glorified images of death and destruction – which are very similar in theme to the Christian hell.

But the point of the “dark goddess,” as the Lhamo is called, is to suppress nothing and make EVERYTHING conscious, even that which appears awful.

To the awakened, enlightened and “saved,” there is no place in the entire universe where light and truth are not present.

The Resurrection of Christ is a most wondrous thing – a joyful celebration so very far from what the world has to offer. Whether today one’s experience of it remains close or distant, at some point it will become absolutely real . . . to all.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Good Friday

Good Friday

In Western Christian tradition the trappings of Easter are typically manifested by pastel colors, bunnies, baby chickens, flowers – pleasant images of new life and spring. In the Eastern tradition there are colored eggs as well, but they are bright red like blood, while the mood remains somber with restraint and restriction.

There is a long-standing controversy between the East and West which delights many. But whatever the merits of this controversy may be in the arena of world history, it is ultimately beside the point.

One person’s beliefs may be incrementally closer to truth than another's, but “belief” by definition is only a vague approximation, a passing traveler’s tale, a second-hand cast off.

Good Friday commemorates the death of Jesus. Some celebrate this as a historical event only. Others say it happens invisibly in the spiritual realm every year.

Either way, as long as the Crucifixion is about someone else's experience it remains at best an emotional spectacle not much different than a good movie.

The Crucifixion is definitely the most unpleasant Christian feast to modern sensibilities. There is a rush to brush past this part and get to the Resurrection, where everything is “all right” again. Jesus is alive after all, the Lenten fast is over and we can have ice cream once more.

But ritual dying is vital, and calls to mind the Buddhist images of wrathful deities abiding in darkness that tear people to bits. What if life never changed – would you really be happy remaining as you are right now . . . always?

There are fanciful stories of people willing to commit any crime to acquire some magical substance that enables them to live forever. Such characters are filled up with their own weird, neurotic, evil selves. And they would want THAT to live forever? Or to put it more accurately, they would want to live forever WITH that?

Thank God for the Crucifixion! It illustrates the blessed possibility open to those who fervently desire truth – to be freed of themselves by the only thing powerful enough to rend the false from the true, namely death.

That Cross upon which the body of Jesus surrenders is a sign of God’s grace, of the limitless compassion of the universe.

There is a Cross waiting for each of us as well.

Its shadow is already upon the ground, and lengthening.

So on this Good Friday . . . rejoice that death is nigh.

Thursday, April 9, 2009



This is the season of the profoundest message of Christianity. Sometimes the concepts of being “born again” or accepting Christ as “personal savior” come across as a tiptoe through the tulips kind of experience from which one emerges with a perpetually beatific grin.

The entry into Christian life is baptism, which ultimately is a figure of death. One is immersed beneath water to symbolize the burial of the body, then raised again to symbolize the resurrection. None of this hurts, because someone just setting foot on the path toward God cannot be expected to be ready for the pain yet to come. But the symbol is there as plain as can be, a warning of what to expect.

The triumph of Christ is not in all the amazing things he did during his life, the miracles, healings, teachings, and other wonders, but rather that he died and resurrected. And in so doing, indicated what his followers would experience.

To be mocked and shamed undeservedly, and to have one’s existence cruelly extinguished – this is hard stuff. It is convenient to characterize it as something Christ did so we won't have to - but this is neither the testimony of Scripture nor of those who have followed that narrow path.

Of course everyone “knows” they are going to die, and hopes the process will be easy and painless, surrounded by loving and sorrowful folks who light the soul’s way to heaven with their prayers. But this wish is just an extension of our determined effort to enjoy life on earth and be comfortable in the process.

Death and Resurrection are the universal destiny of souls, regardless of the ideology or theology they espouse. If we do not die to who we are, we can never be disciples of truth, in whatever form this quest is expressed. And dying to self is the most arduous and painful experience possible, as one feels abandoned by God Himself. Jesus cried out from the Cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

The crucifixion occurred at a place called Calvary or Golgotha, which means the skull, or head, another symbol of the conceptual person.

“And he bearing his cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha” (John 19:17).

How this death of self will manifest in anyone’s particular life is a mystery, and perhaps an ongoing process that occurs in stages.

But it will happen.

It is the only possible path into life.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Contract

The Contract

One take on the substantive quality of individuals is to divide them into two broad camps. On one hand are “deep” ones who ask existential questions such as, “Who am I and why am I here?” On the other hand are “shallow” ones so preoccupied with their little lives that such inquiry never even occurs to them.

But in a sense, both of these camps are on the same side of the fence, letting circumstance dictate their perception of self. The deep ones assume a “contract” exists somewhere in God’s mind that has on it all the information about who they are, why they are here, and what they are to do in this earthly incarnation.

They are on a quest to discover this information so their “real” lives can begin. Sometime, if they are persistent, God will reveal all this, and until then they are treading water. The shallow ones, if they ever think about it, come to a similar conclusion - namely, that life is basically out of their control.

In such cases it is a sure bet the contract will never found. This sobering fact is evident in the depressed multitudes who, finding themselves in a world of discord, disharmony and evil, abandon themselves to despair and hopelessness.

The place they are in, with its apparent anarchy and incoherence, defines the parameters of the quest. And so the questions remain, and they remain unanswered.

The problem with this picture is the expectation that someone or something else will fill in the blanks; that some supreme intelligence will dictate who we are, what we are to do, and what it is all about. Why is this a problem? Because all that has already occurred and we did it.

We have authority to negotiate our lives, to make choices and to experience the consequences of them. The contracts that bind are the ones we negotiate and execute. If we are waiting to find out who we are, we will always be waiting. Thus it is written – by us.

We also have the power to rescind or rewrite such contracts at any time. The existential questions can be replaced them with statements of intent.

This procedure formulates an authentic agreement with God, with the universe, as to the purpose of our presence here: that we exist to be conscious, to learn truth, and to grow in wisdom.

Why is this necessary and beneficial? So we don’t operate under the notion that life is happening TO us without our consent or comprehension. So we can stop imagining ourselves victims or victors in a scene mostly beyond our control.

So we can start appreciating and giving back the amazing depth and beauty of life.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Paschal Bells

Paschal Bells

In the Western Christian tradition this is Holy Week. Good Friday is in a few days followed by Easter Sunday. In the Eastern (Orthodox) Christian tradition those landmark days occur a week later, with Pascha being celebrated on April 19.

Usually the midnight service begins at 10 PM Saturday night and doesn’t end until around 4 AM Sunday morning, when the long Lenten fast is broken with a triumphant feast. All this has been a big part of my life for many years.

From youth a strong devotional sense emerged seemingly unbidden, and I can recall the thrill of finding a small pocket New Testament lying around home. The text was beyond my comprehension but just having that book in my possession seemed like an honor.

In high school I became involved when Billy Graham brought his crusades to town, serving as one of the people who pass out literature and speak to those who come forward at the altar call.

College years produced the typical rebellion against “authority” with its predictable (though absurd) claims of atheism or at least agnosticism. But then the hammer started to fall and the file began to rasp against my life.

I joined a Christian brotherhood with New Age leanings and took vows of poverty, purity, service, obedience and humility. Spent fourteen years living in different cities serving in various capacities, such as cook, youth hostel staff, steward, seminarian, street minister, and much more.

But the main thing I learned from the years of religious practice was that NOTHING seemed capable of transforming me into a truly spiritual person. Even being ordained didn’t help, and finally I left the brotherhood in resignation.

Following this I turned with new zeal to what is reputed to be the most ancient and unchanged form of Christianity. I made pilgrimage to holy sites around the world, and wrote books about my experiences that people read.

I began to believe that my life had finally become good - pleasing to God and satisfactory to man.

But when another fourteen years had passed something started changing. What had been enough before . . . wasn’t anymore. To know things with the mind, to conceive and theorize and make clever arguments about beliefs and positions – was something I couldn't keep doing.

The sense of loss about all this is enormous, to say the least. And with that loss comes a fear that I don’t know where I am. The path that had seemed clear is no longer visible at all.

So Easter is at hand, Paschal bells are about to ring.

But I don’t know what to do about it.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Cosmic Weather

Cosmic Weather

Usually when people “know” something is going to happen, the anticipated event does not occur when or how it's expected. This principle has been amply demonstrated in the vast number of times the "end of the world" or "Christ's return" have been confidently predicted in the last two millennia.

Nowadays there is so much disaster and destruction hype being promulgated around the year 2012 that one can confidently suppose nothing of the sort will actually take place. Even some speaking from a Christian perspective (or imagining themselves to be doing so, at any rate) claim that this current time period is in fact the Great Tribulation and that Jesus Christ will return in the year 2012, establish one thousand years of peace, etc.

Never mind that Jesus Christ explicitly said, “Of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only” (Mat. 24:36). Is it possible the Mayans got one past God Himself with their calendar?

This is not to suggest that the Mayan calender ending in 2012 is incidental or insignificant - far from it. But the mentality trying to associate this event with cataclysmic events like "the end of the world" is the same mentality that is on the endangered species list and about to go extinct.

It DOES seem that disruptive and destructive events are erupting with greater frequency and intensity, and this of course corresponds with a principle illustrated by Mayan Calendar, namely the shortened time periods of the last days and nights (see some of my earlier blogs on this).

The image that these times call to mind is of a weather pattern – cold, dry air contacting warm, moist air. Within their respective realms all is homogenous and quiet. But where they meet there is a storm front with rain, winds, thunder, lightening tornadoes, etc.

Some would say that the mental/material/masculine consciousness in which humanity has been immersed and operative is (to continue with the weather metaphor) a “front” encountering a consciousness of substantially different quality. Fireworks emanate from this, most particularly within those people or societal collectives highly identified with the older consciousness.

It is very likely that the world at large and a majority of individuals will continue to experience a lot of pain in the months and years ahead, but also likely that these experiences will come in surprising packages and on unexpected dates.

On the other hand, those who understand the patterns being played out and who are opting to EMBRACE transformation rather than RESIST it, will probably see more and more peaceful weather, regardless of how the skies look outside.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Sprouting Sprouts

Sprouting Sprouts

To continue with the procedure about making sprouts:

At last sitting we had talked about putting two tablespoons of alfalfa seeds into a small bowl and letting them soak overnight. Those seeds will become plump with moisture and start to germinate.

There are a lot of workable methods for what happens next, and an Internet search can depict various ways of handling the sprouting seeds until they are ready to eat. Some of these require nothing more than what a person can find in the ordinary kitchen, but they also may be more cumbersome or limiting in terms of ease of use.

I have found that trays designed specifically for sprouting are great. I got mine from Emergency Essentials back when Y2K was the big perceived threat. And I'm grateful that the world thought it was going to be ending back then because I learned so much that continues to be useful today, though with a wholly different emphasis.

For me it is not really about "survival" per se. If an asteroid is intent on hitting planet earth in 2012, as the History Channel lately suggested in its program on the Bible Code, then what is to worry about in terms of survival?

In fact, probably one of the most useful things any authority figure could do to improve the global economy would be to come out and plainly say (if it were in fact true) that the world's population had three years (or whatever) to live.

This would be like breaking the news of a terminal illness to an individual. Ideally, a person faced with such knowledge would quickly re-prioritize their life, realizing how vain and silly much of their former ambitions had been.

Similarly, the world at large would see, for one thing, that concern over diminished life savings and IRA accounts was no longer an issue. And what would countries have to argue and fight over if their own existence was soon to come to an end?

Yes, that could produce the most healthy and sober minded group of people the earth had ever experienced. And maybe, seeing this miracle of human transformation, the universe would back off the asteroidal trigger finger.

But I digress. So after the sprouts have soaked for a night, pour them into a sprout tray or whatever you are going to use. They will flow out into odd patterns which you don't need to worry about. It is not until roots begin to form in a day or so that they will get sort of locked into their positions on the tray.

After this the only thing to do is rinse the seeds with fresh water two or three times a day. The little white roots will begin to appear and you are on your way!

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Button Pushers

Button Pushers

It is good to hang around with people who push your buttons. Not all the time of course, but as regularly as you can manage. It is like taking vitamins or medicine if you are sick (and aren't most of us somewhat sick, metaphysically speaking?).

Sometimes it is not optional - hanging around with button pushers, I mean. If a person has children, for example.

Children apparently have a mandate from the universe to ferret out every hidden button - especially from their own parents. They find them with the innate skill of those pigs that are able to sniff out truffle mushrooms buried deep and unseen underground.

Even a bystander can feel the energy then churning through the mother or father who has just had a spike-sized "button" driven through their heart. There is a gasp and a clutching for something to hold onto as it penetrates into that secret realm they wanted to KEEP secret, but which children unfailingly discover through random, seemingly innocent, activities - such as running and shouting and breaking things and making messes.

Usually when the disturbance comes it is like one of those immense solar flares that shoots incredible cosmic radiation into the rest of the planetary system, disrupting normal communications and thought processes.

A psychic lock-down happens almost automatically as this extreme energetic condition overwhelms the poor human in question, and normal consciousness evaporates into reactivity.

Omigod that damn button has been pushed! The one I hate for anyone to push! Reset! Reset!

It is a spiritual brownout. The sole intention of that person's entire existence immediately becomes reduced to: WHAT can be done to make whatever is presently happening STOP happening, or what has JUST happened NEVER happen again?

But there actually is another possible response to all this. The buttons are there, the button pushers are there, what is the surprise? It is going to happen, it just IS!

So, when you know that such a golden opportunity for inner growth and true spiritual development is coming your way, that is, when a button pusher is at hand, what should you do but rejoice?

"Rejoice and Make Choice" (to wax a little poetic on this theme). Because when someone's finger is settling on that inner button you thought was so well hidden, then there is an actual choice at hand.

Choice One: Let the auto-pilot take over like it usually does and the typical button-pushed result occur. Seek an outlet for those hard, unmanageable feelings that are seething around inside. Complain, blame and feel like crap now and later.

Choice Two:
Absorb the experience of letting the button be pushed without reacting to it. Without trying to make things "better" in the outer realm where the world has seemingly degenerated into chaos and anarchy. Without saying or doing something self protective. Without endeavoring to smooth out anyone's ruffled feelings or make the situation "all right."

Just be with it.

Let the button be pushed . . . and be with it.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Dream Within a Dream

Dream Within a Dream

I have the sense of losing someone I love – the visceral vision of this calamity, filled with pain. It is excruciating and I burst into tears.

Then . . . I wake up, still crying. It was a dream, but nevertheless about something real, an actual condition in my life. The tears continue in earnest and I suddenly recall that I’m alone in this place.

“How awful,” I think, “to lament with no one else to hear!” I rise and look around - the room seems unusually dark and foreboding. There is a stifling and sickly air to it, like a heavy blanket wrapped around reality.

Then . . . I wake up again. This ALSO was a dream - a dream within a dream. And this time the dawning light of consciousness is not imagined.

Without effort or attempt to make it happen, the breath begins. It draws deeply but effortlessly, inviting the subtle fire of life to enter and flame on. Like a rising sun it gradually dispels the intoxicating vapors of sleep.

Energy courses gently and unimpeded throughout the body. It flows invigoratingly into awareness and I realize I am after all, really alone. But my solitude is actually chosen and satisfying.

Moment by moment the power of presence pushes the dream world out. It exposes those hidden fears which have been operative beneath the radar of wakefulness, illuminating the anxieties that need to be embraced and comforted.

It’s gentle radiant warmth assures every disquieted fear, drawing each one into the peace of knowing . . .

that it is impossible to lose someone you love . . .

and impossible to cry alone.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Body Wisdom

Body Wisdom

The morning began with a vague awareness of having lumbered through a night of convoluted dreams, the kind that involve ceaseless heavy lifting, trying to do things that won’t get done, which ultimately don’t make sense anyway. “Sisyphus” comes to mind – that unfortunate figure of Greek mythology condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a rock up a mountain, only to see it roll down again.

I woke up with a sigh, wondering what all that dreaming “meant,” if I needed to try to sort it out now , etc. But then the body made its presence felt, a stabilizing and coherent influence. The breath took over and the inconsistent dream world flitted away. What a relief!

The wisdom of the body is amazing. The mind gets confused; the body does not. The mind can plunge into uncertainty, doubt, fear, anguish, etc. The body’s experience of all this is both visceral and vicarious, so far as I can tell. In other words, it doesn’t go through any of that directly, but becomes the memory bank for containing those un-integrated mental/emotional states of disturbance.

Such unresolved energies get lodged in the flesh and are later perceived as tight, sore muscles, aches and pains, and in severe cases probably disease.

The body holds and keeps them until the being who is supposed to be in charge of things surrenders to the process of integrating and resolving all those ancient traumas. It is patient and longsuffering . . . to a point.

Body wisdom is comforting as well. One evening I was engaged in a salt bath, soaking in hot, highly saline water for hours. Eventually I turned over and submerged my head to make sure all the chakra’s were included in the treatment.

Underwater all kinds of stomach noises were suddenly audible (from having eaten at 10 PM four or five corn tortillas with peanut butter and jelly on them).

To the mind this racket was disturbing because it sounded like crowds of people bursting into the bathroom with knives to stick in my back.

To the body, on the other hand, it was like, “Yawn. Give it a rest.” The body did NOT want to be bothered with all that silly hysteria over life and death.

The body can handle uncertainty very well. It doesn't even know what uncertainty is.

So here’s to body wisdom. Peace and quiet on the home front.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Low Mental Footprint

Low Mental Footprint

One of today’s buzz-phrases among the environmentally conscious is “keeping a low carbon footprint,” which means being mindful of natural resources and using them wisely, i.e., minimally. This is definitely an important and laudable attitude, but what about keeping a low mental footprint?

THAT is a concept you won’t hear bandied about on the radio or TV, because nearly everyone in modern society thinks mentality is king. A recent CNN article lamented the view that American children are far behind those in other cultures in basic educational standards, and will not be able to compete on the world stage in coming years. Although this may in fact be true, the measure of intelligence should not merely be based on conceptual and theoretical parameters.

After all, the “smarter” the world has become, the more insanely destructive it has grown. In no other century than the last have so many people – hundreds of millions – been brutalized and murdered through the sophisticated use of man’s inventions, motivated by his perverse and immature character.

Schools may teach children to be clever, but they do not teach them to be wise. And wisdom, far more than cleverness, is what the people of earth need. Global survival depends upon it.

So what can we do? We can start by keeping a low mental footprint ourselves. This certainly does not mean to sit down with the family and watch “Dumb and Dumber” on television. Such celebrations of idiocy are merely the opposite polarity of a fixation on mentality as the overriding driver of human interaction and meaningfulness. They represent an understandable, but nevertheless useless, reaction to the culture of false intelligence that has dominated society for millennia.

Keeping a low mental footprint means to live from the heart, to allow the feeling nature to expand and navigate your daily pathways. This doesn’t lead to less awareness of detail in ordinary things, but to greater, to a more balanced perception of events in your sphere of activity.

Wisdom gained is wisdom shared, because the heart is able to communicate beyond form and concept, and spread its influence wordlessly.

Shall we work to save the planet? Then let us stop thinking so much.