May and it's time to travel

Going to a Tom Brown Jr. course on medicinal plant mixtures and compounding. The days have become jam-packed. I am full of life.

I am looking deeply into what it means to suffer and what is the best relationship to have with suffering, and with myself.

I am leaning into life, going places I was too scared to go in the past. Love is in the air. As is fear and insecurity, but they are met like old friends, acknowledged, and learned from today. Then, fairly respected, they lift their hats to me and are on their way.

Much different than the past.

I am deeply studying the phenomenon of non-abiding awakening, of an enlightened ego, and the process necessary to keep going. It's basically the same: honest process and all the tools I've picked up along the way, made easier now with the understanding of Awake. A lot of people wake up and don't understand this. I woke up and didn't understand this. It took a gradual process of two years to get my bearings and see for sure that yes, the understanding was there and yes, so was the ego, and yes, there was Further to go, and it was still possible to get stuck and stop going forward.

The general lesson nature seems to be teaching me is: your intuitions are correct. Trust your feelings. Use the force, Luke.

Some of the greatest places of darkness left: consistency, romantic relationship and neediness, security of my physical person. Letting go of control and demand. And conversely, jumping into life with both feet, doing my very best. Somewhere in this beautiful paradox is an answer I've searched for a long time. It's not found in any series of words, though words may point to it. It is found in an experience, inside of me already, but undiscovered, like hidden treasure.

This is why I love the phrase, "Conscious Awareness" Because awareness is always there, and everything you've ever wanted is already inside you. But you are not consciously aware of it yet. Not awake enough to yourself to recognize it. And our awareness is often, perhaps usually, unconscious.

If I've got two main points on the nature of reality that seem most fundamental, they are

1) Consciousness, Awareness, is fundamental to everything.

2) As you think/believe, so you create/it is.

Reading writing

The best writing I do is that impelled by a strong emotional charge. I let go of trying to control the worlds coming out, trying to make a good impression, and let the emotion inside scream through the fingers moving and the black appearing on white and the letters coalesce into the outline of my heart, like dusting for fingerprints.

Tonight we talk about anger and forgiveness. Self anger, anger at what I have done wrong or am yet to do. My lackadaisical nature, my late nights, my inconsistencies and broken words. I am ashamed.

And always now, the paradox is attached to everything: I am perfect. Nothing to change, nothing to make better. I am forgiven. I am completely forgiven. Why? but there is no why or need for why. it is it's own answer. love and confusion, unworthiness to be loved and acceptance of the divine love.

I'm afraid to believe in myself because it means I will start moving, and taking risks, and that's scary to think about. That's why sometimes it's better just to do, and not let yourself dally with thoughts going in circles.

I read. Things click. I try to meditate, I don't know if it works anymore, if I'm doing it right. My body is mortal, my mind is fallible, my faith in Self is unshakable, but it is nameless, and all the words gather round it to throw stones.

It doesn't care. It loves them. The nameless non-existent man inside the center of my heart. The Mystery. The unseen, the unspeakable. Is it even knowable?

Too much thought.

All I really want to do tonight is bleed on the floor from my open heart and ask God where to find him. Is he on 5th street? Halfway out of town? I think he lives in the white house with the red trim and the quaint little tin garbage can and ceramic bluebirds on the steps.

The Truth

If you are, like me, a devout seeker of Truth, you are going to have to spend a lot of time first getting to know Truth's slutty younger sister, Unknown. The Unknown is like the town bicycle, she's always available, everyone has been with her, and she never says no if someone wants more.

The Truth, on the other hand, is beyond your reach. She's busy with older guys, often orientals with large beards. Passing her in the hallway, you barely manege to mumble out a word of greeting with your face down, which she doesn't even hear. At night you have wet dreams joining with her and living happily ever after with your beautiful children Joy, Purpose, Power and Greatness.

In the morning you wake up with an False Concept in bed with you that the harsh light of day is not flattering to, and a sense of remorse for being unfaithful to your crush.

If you become friends with Unknown though, something very few have the courage to do, she will eventually introduce you to her sister, who it turns out is just an ordinary person after all. Your preconceptions of her shattered, you can finally become friends with Truth, the real Truth, not the idealized concept you had in your head.

She's extraordinarily needy and jealous, it turns out, and I'm starting to wonder if I can handle her. I suppose there's always her willing younger sister ;)

Beard

Shaved my beard.

Partly because it was butt fugly, partly because it was a bad representation of what I felt like, and partly because I just picked up a scissors and started cutting without really thinking about it. It was fun, cutting off the huge clumps that stuck together. I have to find someone to give it to. Someone who can't grow a good beard of there own. And has a good enough sense of humor to laugh, not cry.

I think perhaps you, who hear my words but don't see my face, know me better inside than those who picture my mug when thinking of me. What I feel like inside is not well expressed outside. The best way to express most of what I look like from my point of view is through abstract paintings. Angry half-dry brush strokes of red with neatly lined up dot/nipples of blue, super imposed over lurking, childish line drawings of genitalia.

Hell, I should make that painting, if just to be able to give people an answer to the question, "how are you?" If only I had room for a painting studio. I need an apartment. Or even better, a house and some land. I want to start making my garden paradise now, before I actually have to rely on it for food. Fruit trees take time to start bearing.

It took long enough

Here's irony: I can either write a long explanatory post about how I am doing, action and inaction, and rest, or I can just go to bed on time and actually DO that which I would otherwise talk about. After all these years, I finally figure it out. Score one for Isaac!

A quote from a wise man:

"there are two types of people in the world: those that act, and those that criticize."


good night :)

sleep is importaint, for now.

I was getting very rested, at the Tom Brown Jr. courses, and now, back in Fairfield, I'm getting off of a rest-friendly schedule.
fuck.

what to do, what to do.

Quicky

Obviously I haven't posted in a while. (slap on wrist). No matter. Much of that is because I've been writing in my paper, private, journal. Which is easyer, especialy when the computer isn't even on yet. Anyways, some phrases I came up with, through dream or otherwise, that I like.

"The depths of heaven."
sounds like some kind of half erotic, half spiritual book or book made into a movie.

"Die the Doing" By Richard St. Barbie Baker. Does not exist, as far as I know, but I saw it in my dream, and the title phrase struck me. Also, I love the author, who has written other books, and is an inspiring person.

that's all folks.