Tantra pt. 2

upon further reflection, I think the solution to all these questions is simply to listen to my heart as the situation comes. No hard fast rules. Those are useful as training wheels, but the goal I am moving towards is to be able to hear and respect the voice of wisdom within me. No "sex is bad" or "sex is good" or anything else, for that matter. What is the appropriate response in the moment. That is the answer.

And that is a matter of sensitivity and working through all the issues that keeps us from being in constant contact with that inner voice, and doubting it or fearing it or not trusting it.

And that, I'm sure, is true Tantra.

Modern Day Tantra

I've just been looking at some modern tantric teachers, because I've got some sexual blocks and relationship blocks, and am looking for ways to deal with and heal these things.

It's a mixed bag. There is truth mixed in with untruth, which is always a dangerous combo. All I know is, my inner voice tells me to steer clear. Which is sad, for mr. happy.

Here is the basic dichotomy I face, dealing with modern tantrics:

Sex in general, as it's dealt with today, is generally a spiritual no-no. There is definitely spiritually awesome, God approved sex. And it's the best sex you'll ever have, far and away, because it's not just a physical thing, but a union of all levels of two people. But that's not too common.

Repression of sexuality, is also a spiritual no-no. And whereas meaningless sex is kind of a wast of time, sexual repression is a serious problem that can lead to deep imbalances and suffering.

I'm looking for the balance point, and I think it might not be halfway between the two ends of the sex spectrum, but up on the Y axis of me just being authentic with myself. I think people who say all sex is good and you should have as much of it as possible, are very unbalanced, but just as unbalanced are those that say sex is a bad bad thing and should never be done out of wedlock. That's retarded. I can't express how retarded that is.

"Marriage" as a legal or religious institution is a hollow shell of something real and organic that has been forgotten long ago. Fuck the law. I guess it's necessary, cus our relationships are so screwed up, people who marry each other end up often hating each other's guts and need police officers to make sure the money is divided up properly. I guess I need to give a bit of respect to the current systems, as "the worst system out there, except all the others." that is, it's pretty fucked up, but so are we, and that's why it's in place.

That said, the system is for the median of the population, minus the 20 years it takes for the law to change. But individuals should remember that as they grow and exceed the evolution of the median, they should not lower there spiritual IQ by following general consensus. I think there's something to be said for lifetime pair bonding. However, having a law constrain someone else to behave how you want them to, is stupid. If the only thing stopping your significant other from pursing sex with other people is a law, then you've got some basic problems with the relationship. You shouldn't need a law for that, in a functional relationship.

Now, I'm sure true Tantra can work for enlightenment, via sex. I don't think I've heard from a true tantric master though. And that means, mixed in with the truth of what is being taught, is egoic desires. Which is fine and business as usual, as long as they are honestly recognized as egoic desires, attachements, stuff that needs work, needs healing, needs light. But when you use your spirituality to say those issues are "ok", then you've just diverged from the path of truth, and taken a side trip down ego-penis lane. Which, hey, fine, if that's what you want to do, enjoy the trip.

But I don't want to divert from truth.

And frankly, it's not super appealing, at this point, because it is crystal clear to me, at this point in my growth, that there ain't anything in this world that's going to make me happy in that deep sense my heart longs for. Whether it's the craziest orgasm you can imagine, or being worshiped as a sexual god. Hey, shit, that would be fun, no doubt. But, like everything, it would get old. For some people, that takes a while, maybe years. For me, usually a few seconds is enough.

Now, I can enjoy things. But that is secondary to my inner state. Which is determined not by what I'm enjoying, but by what I'm believing. By the inner parts of me that are hurting, constantly. And no outer thing is going to make those inner parts change. It will at best feed them, for a while, or maybe make them find a different thing to feel bad about.

Look at people at the top of the world, physically, financially, etc, and you'll see a lot of unhappy people. maybe even more than average.

There's still a voice in me that says, "go have sex with hot women, then you'll be happy." The difference between now and five years ago is, I'm clear now, that this voice is mistaken.

What is it we are really looking for? What is it we are really afraid of?

You have to answer this question for yourself, but when I look for it, there is a deep, deep as time itself, yearning for something truly meaningful. For something full of love and gratitude and kindness. For something beautiful. And the fear is one of meaninglessness. Emptiness.

That is not something a new toy can give me, it's only something I can give me. It's like, the problem's not in the object seen, it's in the lens. I've got vaseline on my glasses, and I'm looking for some tasty food. I see sex, and that looks tasty, the way the vaseline warps it, but I try some and it's good, but not filling, and I look at other stuff and it looks really gross. When I wipe my glasses clean, I see that everything before me is part of a delicious feast, and I am full because everything within arms reach nourishes me.

This is the phrase: the wise are content with that which comes to them, unasked.

Simply, you are able to enjoy, appreciate, whatever comes to you, in life. And in that state, you can be established in perfect integrity with yourself, because there is nothing specific that you want so much you are willing to give up integrity to get it. Which means your life gets to feel fulfilling and meaningful and 'right'.

well, it's late and I've got a big day tomorrow.

love, to all you random voyeurs out there. And to my friends.

i

Journey through the cosmic colon

what do i want? I want something. Something. ?Who? who wants what?

I'm spinning my wheels. I'm just trying to ask a simple question, and get a simple answer: what do I want?

Apparently it's not such a simple question. or a simple answer, because the answer is you don't want anything. Don't want anything.

And I wonder why I don't do anything big, don't rock the boat. Of course not, if there's nothing I want to do, to have. I just do the normal things of life. Eat, sleep, jack off to porn, keep myself from getting bored with videos. Sometimes I can't even stand watching videos, and I just sit, doing nothing at all. Sometimes I journal, like this, looking for answers. Hoping that something will spill out accidentally, really, just happy to be moving my fingers, just happy to talk to space, to try and put words to this ever so slippery experience. I check gmail, Facebook, the blogs I'm subscribed to, in the hopes of being in contact with another human being. Other people take away the silence. They take away the aloneness, which breeds this nothingness.

For now, I'm trying to get more comfortable in my skin, in my brain, in my life. The reality I perceive works a certain way, and when I try to make it act a different way, it hurts, and it fails. I'm guessing that the only way to make my life work is to play by the rules. The rules are the perceptions I have of my existence, my memories of my experience, what works, what doesn't work.

I kinda want to go look at some porn now, rub one out so I can go to bed (if I don't, I'm wired for another two to three hours, just lying in bed with the lights off.) and forget all about this.

But I also kinda just want someone to talk to. I want someone I can really talk to though. This blog, believe it or not, is way more censored and toned down than my personal journal. That journal is totally free form, stream of consciousness, everything goes. Sometimes I get the text to voice feature of my computers wordpad program to read sections back to me. It's super entertaining. Especially considering what I've written. The ravings of a perverted madman, as dictated by a robot. perhaps I should give you a tast of it, for your curiosities sake. well, ok, I'll write it here, but I'll re-read it and see if it's actually safe for print:

wax on wax off. fuck me. egotistical bullshit.

I am nothing.

no.

not right at all: I ask the question, "who am i " or "who is it that acts."

fine. now I travel with that question, to the answer. It's like falling down a rabbit hole, but at the bottom of the whole, I fall through, and suddenly I'm in outer space. Vast, empty, black, surrounded in points of light. This is not nothing, but I don't know what it is. It is a big unknown. if it has qualities, they are not qualities that can be spoken. No words can describe it. Like a reverse Lovecraft monster: it is beyond words, yes, beyond comprehension, but in a good way. It is peaceful. It is destruction of all that I thought I was. Not real destruction that, just the kind of destruction you get when you say, destroy that woman over there with the beautiful blond hair, when you go to hit on her and it turns out it's a man in drag. That woman has been completely annihilated, as if she never existed. Because she never did, except as a mistaken concept you had. Just an idea with no corresponding physical counterpart.

So to, the idea that I am anything namable is gone when I ask, "who am I" because it takes me there, and also gone is the feeling of superiority, inferiority, or free will, or rather, separate will, when I ask the question, "who is the actor, the do-er?" And get shot out the same cosmic butthole into infinite space.

Into what I can only assume is God.

One thing I'm carful about right now, is I don't want to say I've arrived anywhere (common thread with me eh? It's because people who make themselves sound all great and stuff piss me off, and so I don't want to become one of them. I hate myself enough already)

I think that arrival should be concurrent with something I could label "bliss." God is good, right? I'm not interested in intelectual bullshit, even if it's perfectly reasoned. I want my heart to have a place to rest. I want joy. I'm not willing to settle for intelectual satisfaction.

I actually recall my old teacher saying something about that, in one of his myriad tapes. Something like, "the first stage of enlightenment, the mind is finally satisfied, it can rest, but then the heart takes over, and wants to be satisfied as well, and it doesn't get satisfied until every last thing is completely unified.

well, I guess that's not really related. What I'm talking about is not unification. it's just feeling good in my heart. I will assume that is what the experience of reality, fully experienced, feels like. Otherwise, whats the fucking point?

It's a simple enough equation, like one of those programming diagrams:

[are you satisfied?]

Y--> your done, stop trying to grow/get enlightened etc.

N--> keep trying-->back to question [are you satisfied?]

ok, I'm done. I either need a walk, a shag, or a sit and stare at the darkness while hurting emotionally. hell, why not all three? Life is full.

;)

until next time, fuck you San Francisco.

i o

.... ok, that was about halfway between my normal posts and my insane-o private journal. I can't seem to do the insane-o journal thing with people watching. Well, I guess I'll go do that a bit before the other three.

posting old drafts

[this is a rather old post that I noticed was never published, just saved in draft form. It's probably a year or two old. I'm trying to post them now. I don't really know why, perhaps the same selective anal retentiveness that makes me occasionally delete the old messages from my email inbox. perhaps I'm just looking for an excuse to avoid the quiet dark awareness of lying in bed not sleeping]

You know, I used to love shopping for gadgets and such, but now I hate it. I hate shopping. It's a f*&king wast of time and it gives me a headache and it feels futile. I guess the difference is I used to like shopping because I would have fantasies about how the stuff I was going to get would change my life. But it never did. It just sat there, looking at me with those doleful hound-dog eyes. Buying a camera will not make you a photographer, it will not make you start taking pictures more often, buying a drawing pad will not make you start drawing more, buying and instrument will not make you practice.

Which is why, nowadays, I much more prefer buying lessons. Because that will make you draw more, play more, practice more. However, that's still a step removed from where I'd like to be, which is doing these things, which I want to do, without having to pay someone to make me do them. It's still useful to be taught how to do these things, often, but to have a baby sitter... well, it's fine, except it ends up costing a lot, and you don't get as good results as you would if you were just well self-motivated. This is what I want to shop for, now-a-days.

But as with most genuinely useful things, you can't actually buy these. There is no shortcut. Which is fine. What's not fine is I can't even seem to find the long-cut. I can't seem to find any way at all to acquire these qualities. Perhaps because I don't really care about them, because, as I said earlier, I don't think anything in this world will be able to give me lasting happiness. Or meaning. Even a sterling character. Not that I can see any way to know for sure, since I haven't found a way to get a sterling character, yet. The problem is motivation: I'm not going to keep doing something if it's not worth my while to do it. When I put in the extra effort required to do what I think I should, it's never the fulfillment I was hoping for, so I'm disappointed. Or, I just flat out fail and feel awful about that. Or, it proves to be something that requires a lot of work, and I get tired/bored, and give up, eventually, when it turns out all the work necessary is really, really not fun.

This is all in my mind. Sometimes, I enjoy the process itself. It's just a matter of... how I think about it. If I'm doing it, trying to get some result, and that's why I'm doing it, I can't do it: all I end up with is disappointment, failure, boredom. Whereas things I enjoy doing, are great, until I realize those things are things I think I should be doing, and then I congratulate myself on doing what I'm supposed to, and then it becomes work, and I have to do it, and I start failing to achieve what I'm supposed to achieve, and I feel bad again, and there's no point in doing it any more, because it just brings me misery: reminding myself how I haven't been doing it and I should be doing it, or how I'm not improving enough to be what I think I should be.

Fucking shit, it sucks.

A Journey to a New World (as I write this)

sometimes, your heart just hurts.

you don't know why, if there even is a reason. There's probably a reason. I could make up a reason, and it could be right. But it doesn't matter. What matters is my heart hurts and there is nothing to do about. Nothing that will make it go away but time. Which makes everything go away. And makes everything come.

When does the easy part come? I'm through the really hard part, most of the time, except times like these, but I'm still not at the easy part. It's half easy. It's easy to be nothing now. It's easy to be. But it's so hard still, to do. Or to become. I'm a noun searching for his verbage.

This kind of pain, it's so lonely. So sad. Like a wolf howling at the moon on a cold night, no clouds to be a big blanket over the land. I chase things that don't matter to me, over and through the Internet. I wake up out of the passing obsession, my heart terrified: I've just lost another day. I've just been useless some more.

The time for explaining, for seeing through the beliefs has passed. I've done that work.

Your worthless. Is it true? I don't know. But I'm afraid if I don't believe it I will be worthless.

What does that mean? It looks like this: a boy sitting inside in front of his computer doing something he doesn't like, because he desperately wants to find something that with make it all ok, make it all complete. It looks like watching tv shows all day long, not even taking the time to shower.

And that's wrong. Is that true? I don't know. But I'm afraid if I don't believe it, I'll do it. And I really do think it's wrong. My mothers voice in my head, telling me to go to bed on time and meditate and do something productive. Not bad advice. But those voices tell me what is right and wrong, and they don't effect what I actually do. Or do they? The certainly don't make me do what they say to do. They make me miserable when I continually don't do them.

It's not fair, and it doesn't makes sense. What should I think? Is that now a list of rights and wrongs too? Sin sin sin.

Another perspective: your not bad, but your actions may be.

Well, how is that, if I am responsible for my actions? Ok, getting into philosophy. I've had this conversation before, and I detest it, because it achieves nothing. It just spins in circles.

What do I experience? This is the actual work. What I experience is that my action comes from a source that is unfathomable. Am I responsible? is it my fault, all of this horribleness? That doesn't seem fair. It's not like I'm omnipotent. My environment effects me, considerably. And my tendencies.

And most of all my despair. Whenever I try to put my mind to something, put my will to something, I'm struck by the thought, by the previous experience, that none of it gives me what I want.

This is why I'm a spiritual seeker. Despair. The despair that comes from recognizing that there is nothing in this world that will make me happy.

And that's also where the determination comes from. This spirit, this journey, is my only hope. of course I'm going to be utterly one pointed about it, however confused and unclear my direction is: this is my only hope.

And even when hope seems lost, it doesn't matter. There's still nothing else to do, even if there's only a 0.01% chance that it will work. I live in a desert, and I'm constantly trying to convince myself that I don't. I can distract myself for short periods of time, with tv, video games, dreams of changing the world. Pretending that I don't live in a barren desert, the only inhabitant.

As it is, I think there's a pretty large percent change that such a place as peace exists. The oasis off in the distance. Always moving away from you as you move towards it.

Sometimes things are nice, for a little bit, or a while. That exists, though it always goes away sooner or later. But it does exist. My pain has gotten less. Maybe it really could get gone, all the way.

It's so painful, thinking that your life is a big failure. It's more painful than pain. it saps the strength. it erodes happiness.

I think it would be such a wonderful character, who totally approved of there own life. Regardless of what that life was. That would be a person I would love to be around, and watch grow and live. No matter what they did, it would be wonderful to see. It would be good for my heart. I want everyone to have that gift. It seems like a nice gift. When I try to imagine myself without the ability to belief that I was a failure, with the belief that everything I did was a success, was as it should be...

...it's really hard to imagine. First I picture myself just totally going into lethargy. eating, sleeping, watching tv, not calling anyone, not going to anything, missing appointments, disconnected from the world, living of my inheritance.... but then, there's this fuzzy thing that happens, like I can't see into the future that far, where something changes, because, unlike normal, I'm not getting angry at myself...

whoa.

And... and I'm...not worried....

wow.

It's so relaxed. Like the weight of the world is being lifted from me.

And I keep imagining me, in that situation, not feeling bad about it, and then starting to worry about what's going to happen, and then remembering that I can't think that thought, in this imaginary scenario, so I wouldn't be doing that. I couldn't come back to that thought, ever.

I couldn't think that something wrong was going to happen. And maybe some stuff would happen. Some really heavy stuff, as I neglected certain responsibilities that I only upheld because I was afraid of not doing them. And got the repercussions. And then normally I would think, "oh, see, here's how bad I am, look at how all my bad actions are coming back to me"... but I couldn't think that, so I'd just...not see a problem with them. I'd still be a success. Maybe a success that hurt, but... still...a...

success.

This is amazing. This is a whole new world. I like this imaginary world, this imaginary me. It's blowing my mind, right now, as I type this. I'm going to play in this imaginary world for a bit now, if you'll excuse me. I'll maybe let you know how it turns out.

On a random note: how's this blog, for other people? I'm curious. Oh quiet watchers, I call you from the shadow places across the globe in quiet rooms with glowing screens; answer me.

Deja Vu again

I want to love you all the time. But sometimes my heart is full of bile and it hurts to try hurts to do anything close to my heart. I want to tell you I love you, but I'm afraid if I speak I'll hurt you again, no matter what I say.

It's not you I'm mad at, though I may blame you, though I may scream and bite. Ok, sometimes I am mad at you. But even then, it's not really about you. It's always about me. Not to be narcissistic, but it is. My anger and my love and my everything. Storys I tell about clouds as they pass by. I love you. Some times I prick myself, on the sharp parts of the world, and cry. Or get pissed off and try and break the pointy bit. Always, we are searching for something.

It's amazing how long a journey it seems to be. Just to get back to the simple truth. But my heart won't take any shortcuts. No matter how much my mind pulls and shoves.

I don't know any reason it works this way; it just does: you have to step every step of the way. It hurts. step, step, step. I'm alone. step.

I'm confused. step.

I don't know what to do. A trip, fall, skin my knee. Get back up. Step.

Am I ever going to make it? step.

Oh, I want that nice thing back. Where the fuck is it going!? Why is it leaving me. A long wait. finally, another step.

What if the truth was that you had never done anything that wasn't perfect? What if your job description was to do exactly what you did, are doing, right now? What if you were actually the greatest succes possible?

I'm not saying that's the truth. All I'm saying is, it's no less true than "you are a failure and you are not doing enough, not doing the right thing, and you are a bad person because of it."

You fear that if you don't hurt yourself for failing, if you don't fear failure, if you don't feel miserable for all the imagined things you haven't done, you will degenerate into your worst nightmare.

But maybe the truth is, if stop acting based on fear and loathing and guilt, the only thing left will be to act on that innermost voice within you, that knows your hearts desire.

This is a very simple idea. very simple. No need to complicate it. The idea is this:

maybe, who you are, what you do, is ok. What you think, what you feel. It's ok. The only people who matter, accept you and love you. No matter what you do.

Perhaps, fundamentally, you are wonderful.

Perhaps, fundamentally, you are God.

I need to forgive myself. If I want to stop being full of shame.

Sin

The original meaning of sin, as it was introduced biblically, was an archery word meaning, "to miss the mark."

This is much more accurate as a description of life than what the word sin has become nowadays: that is, something you have done that is wrong and must be punished, or something that makes you fundamentally a bad person, or something that is going to send you to hell.

I here officially mock the idea that God will punish you for doing bad stuff by sending you to hell. There is no concept that is more closely linked with the word "sheeple" than this. Your actions have results. Perhaps, if there is reincarnation (a concept that was a part of most religions, including christianity, until people decided it was to hard to controle people without eternal damnation) then the results come back to you in other lives as well. As good an explanation for crappy or good stuff happening that you didn't seem to precipitate as any other concept.

In any case, it is quite apparent to me that we make our own heaven and hell, and we make our own lives. If this is not apparent to you, fine, live as you perceive.

It is also apparent to me that God is good, and cares about his creation. And would never, every stoop to punishment. God is intricately linked with love, this I know. All else follows, and dogmas are easily seen though as defilement's of God's love or expressions of it. No need for jesus or buddha: what would Love do?

I am a fan of kissing: keeping it simple.

God is good, God is Love.

Truth is good.

Simplicity is good.

Violent religious zealots are fuckwads.

Unthinking, unfeeling masses are sending us to hell without even realizing it, because they have given over their brain cavity to the violent fuckwads.

Nature is pretty.

The unthinking, unfeeling masses can march us to heaven, by waking up and starting to think for themselves and especially feel the beating of there own heart.

You can't fuck it up. The worst you can do is miss the mark. The worst you can do is stop trying.

So keep taking those steps. One at a time. Pathetic and fail-ish though you may feel. There are only two options: stop, or keep walking. And it does get better, as you keep moving forward. It really does.