We are living in disruptive times
voices are loud and angered
shouting change and resistance..
Multiple truths seem to thrive
for brief moments within mixes
of contingency and suffering..
Truth has been curtained
in shadows of triviality..
Our most desperate need
is for Truth to be exposed
calling each of us by that
ancient name: I Am..
Such new recognition
must sooth angered voices
dissolving idolatrous lies
in a morning's new light...

Known as "higher reasoning"
EXPERIENCE confronts belief..
Belief resides in separation
in life's suffering..and longing..
The separate self seeks a path
among religion's offerings..
Searching for beliefs..which fail to
loosen separation's strong grip..
A balm enfolds with EXPERIENCE
of wholeness..of oneness..of identity
as Awareness (I Am..)
This new recognition brings fear
to the self in separation's prison..
Fearful that its upholding belief
is dissolving in an infinite sea..
This resurrection EXPERIENCE...

A racial or privilege of identity
where difference is unnoticed
results in a sameness
in our blue-pilled culture..
Some plead for an awareness
of these differences overlooked
both small ones and elephantine..
Yet in these endeavors
something else escapes notice:
our strong belief in separation
a belief born early.. never shaken..
Here is a radical approach:
step away from the differences
and find the Presence which
contains all differences..
Know that each of us
although molded in difference
the moldings are not
apart from but made of
the  Presence...

A picnic in May arises in January recall
remembering conversation and watermelon
a memory of May we believe
connected by time on a line..
On this cold January morning
the picnic images appear
warming the morning with cheer..
It is a story we place in time
separated from our reverie just now..
But on this January morning
a startling newness arises:
Nothing was lost of the picnic
memories-sensations alive
color and reveal Happiness
in the one I know as I am...

Hurricane force
near space is moving..
Reporter reports the jet stream
has dipped and greeted..
Gifts of inconvenience
uprooting and power interruption..
This turmoil in our space and
time to consider real space
but the mind shudders to do so..
The real Space observes
from stillness and calm
and is the substance
of that space of
our windy days...

Here we find
our greatest scientist
professing an independent Theorem
outside of thought and perception..
He admits this as belief
and also admits:  this separate reality
he cannot find...in his science..
Our experience tells us:
this old Theorem is thought arising
in infinite Awareness..and there remains..
We search..as did he.. to no avail to find
the Theorem residing outside..
Would it astonish Dr. Einstein
that the Theorem we experience
..as could he..
is made altogether.. of Awareness...?

In my more youthful past
in that memory as thought now rising
a philosopher in my reading
used a wax impression to gain
understanding of thought formation..
Which philosopher?
The name has escaped
a coming and going as
impermanent thoughts come and go..
I am awaiting a re-qcquaintance..
But let us proceed..
Did that philosopher ask about the wax?
Might he have said:  You are the wax
out of which your thought takes form..
Wax as a faithful metaphor
for Consciousness..our true Self..
Thoughts arising as small self
and projecting a world..
Oneness so speaks...*

(if you know that philosopher,
I would be indebted if...}

You have seen these images:
an arrow locates your presence
near the far edge of our galaxy..
Each time we see this depiction
we are swept by insignificance..
Recovery is remembering
this grand scale perception
reinforces a strong belief
in a separate self..
So we ask:
What is it that perceives
this portrait of
seeming lowly location..?
It must be the same What
that is now reading these words..
And astonishingly:
a new Reality introduces itself
a definite undefinable experience
a new Self inside of which
a galaxy and arrow and
those three words appear...

Might it all
come   to    this..
What do we
mean when
we say:
"I" ?
Listen
in a cafe
marketplace
church
TV and web
and we find an
"i"
attached to
so many things
things of joy
entertainment
things of
thought and
contemplation..
Life as "i"
finds:
weariness
loneliness
apprehension
searching
yes..peace­..
Then..
a searing question:
that small "i"
might "i" really
be "I" ?

I am the Temple
She is and you are..
Recognition is to be set free
wild in the knowing of
I am..
When religion arrives
separation comes too
with beliefs unshakable
veiling the freedom of
I am..
Although each religion
came from lighted freedom
came from knowing
then forgetting
I am..
So the world awaits
that Recognition
very old and very new
each Temple discovery:
I am..

It is now Christmas Eve
a time of color and story..
We attend services and anticipate
remembering a story of one
said to reconcile and bring peace..
Our minds when immersed
in these colorful trappings
may sense separation..and rebel..
Rebellion is temporary and
soon bathed in good cheer
another Christmas..another year..
Perhaps some will find
their dissonance ending
with a sudden note of White..
All of those lights
are a lurking background
awaiting our invitation..
But invitation seems unneeded
as background comes forward
flooding our manger
with new Recognition...

First we believe we are something
something among all of those somethings..
After suffering as separated something
we are uplifted in discovering we are nothing
not a thing..
We have then transcended our separation
but find that everything we left behind
still calls out for our attention..
Then the sensation:
everything shines ..Peace attends...

Bill shot a baleful glance in her direction (see below)
and so what might be said of this Bill?
He is likely projecting what lies inside:
a mini-self dwelling in seeming separation..
In his birth Bill was open and trailing the light
but his birth and forgetting led him to prison
as we all find our prison leaving our birthright..
Yes..we have our life joys..these serve as comfort
as the prison walls assert again and again..
The prison is also filled with grace
sending a message of Comfort in many dark hours..
Bill..we all hope..receives his message one day
and then knows his prison anew..simply a shadow
blocking his view..
So..now assume Bill has seen..and about that glance:
it is one of Happiness to..let's call her Grace
which has been her name..always...*

(with thanks to William Wordsworth)

bale·ful
ˈbālfəl/"
adjective
threatening harm; menacing.
"Bill shot a baleful glance in her direction"

synonyms: menacing, threatening, unfriendly, hostile, antagonistic, evil, evil-intentioned, vindictive, wicked, nasty, bitter, acrimonious, malevolent, malicious, malignant, malign, sinister;
harmful, injurious, dangerous, destructive, noxious, pernicious, deadly, venomous, poisonous, vitriolic;  literarymalefic, maleficent

As information explodes in our awareness
for which Google names the metaphor..
An image of factual filling of a sea
a sea brim with the stuff of mind..
This modern imprisonment
cries out for freedom..
Might we soon recognize
that ignorance of our true nature
resulted in such storminess
a mind overwhelmed and drowning
as we swim and grasp
at the flotsam of knowledge..
Satisfaction is fleeting within this
creation of ignorance..
Our life raft arrives with our focus
on the ignorance we chose
casting us into an unforgiving sea...*

Knowledge of the world is ignorance.
~Rumi

Each of us possesses a flame
shining brightly in our birth
never extinguished..soon forgotten..
Why forgotten we ask..
Well..we noticed that other
our dear mother..suddenly exclaiming:
I saw her myself..!
Such was our personal
Garden of Eden
where a diminutive body plus mind
verified and verified again
a life sweetly and sadly embroiled
in apparent separation..
This grasping truth in discovery
hid the flame and waked a longing
a stuttered seeking to uncover
that hidden flame..
The flame awaits as we dance
a dance between desire and fear
fueled by glimpses of promise
to burn personal separation
and birth the impersonal:
eternal Happiness..The Flame...

Is there about a completion
as an artist decides it is finished
a losing of interest in the
seeming object remaining..?
Perhaps it is the residue
a residue of objective suggestion
which does not adequately reflect
the soaring subjectivity of
artistic creation..
Or a suggestion of separation
bringing a longing for the
creative origination..
Or a recognition that the
prodigal journey has ended
and that the homelight
is no longer obscured..
Or leaving for others
to report their experience:
a gifted seed of new life
in their perceiving...

A forbidding word rises to our surface
life as turbulent shatters the calm
and the calm may now in back glance
appear as imprisoning..
Surprise and reversals traverse the land
and resistance finds futility..
Seemingly our choices are already made..
We are called to ride the storm
to shape as each might..in each unique way
each momentary outline of
our own creation..underway...*
~CC

The left..
that analyzing splitting
friend and fiend..
We are slow to discover
the Right
is that upon which
proud left depends
for it's work..it's life..
Yet that left
seems warily persistent
wishing to convince:
I stand strong and alone..
I will hide..if I must
until doubting clouds
blow past once more..
But its days are numbered
as we each day uncover:
left is an actor
a temporary pretender
from Right...!

It was festive with conversation..
Then the announcement of music upstairs
and some went up..others stayed
and listened passively..
The filtered music seemed not distant
but penetrated all of the words and laughter..
Seeming then as musical wholeness
falling and creating this
festive occasion...

There must be happiness
in the depth of this day's seeking..
Momentary satisfaction and contentment
in midst of participation in this annual
running frenzy..running of the..
So..appropriately named..looking for
happiness
in the darkness this Friday..
Some may sit on a restful bench
in a crowded mall..or observing
a sea of people in downtown
Manhattan (I did this!)
and there seems to be at times
a glow in the black..
Let's call it a black hole
as science speculates.. and
others remind of that
springtime black Friday:
a new creation bursts forth...

A word of ancient making
but in resurrecting now
bursts in meaning..
Wyrd iterates to Weird
a uniqueness in extreme..
Not a fixed uniqueness
but one which is happening..
A momentary identity
living within and
made of Freedom..
Wyrd.. my friends
is who I am
a name which colors
for just now
my Freedom
infinite and luminous...

Thanksgiving
prompts reflection
upon the gratitude
at the heart of
Thanksgiving this year..
If election darkness
fills one's being
and gratitude seems
contracted this year..
We need realize
as the day approaches
separation's illusory voice
seemingly amplified..
Until we find once more
with expanding gratitude
the gracious heart
in this and every
Thanksgiving...

change seems a beaconing in time
pleading a new search and goal..
to create a new chapter
amplifying the story we know
to which we cling..
yet real change
does not become.. but
is a startling recognition
of that in which
seeming change asserts..
that.. we are..
where freedom resides...

desire cries in our world of suffering..
lives seemingly and obviously
split and fragmented..
do we suspect that a larger secret
might reveal an illusion..?
our thoughts of Oneness conspire to confuse
and our perceptions confirm a blaring multiplicity..  
let us try something new:
a walk in the woods
a sit on a bench
welcome those thoughts and perceptions
in their rising and exits
all within indescribable Oneness..
And then please note:
Oneness of a sudden makes appearance
as surprising fragments of joy...

I am Aware that I am Aware
this common experience
negates the claims
of matter's independence..
Matter gained renown
from the ancient Greeks
though over  centuries..
alas..never was found..
Attending our experience
demonstrates once more
that Awareness stands
aware of itself..
So called matter
is the cultural wool
pulled over our eyes..
Veiling the Awareness
which in desperation
we seek..!

A vital connection
remains at ready..
We have cleared the brush
before
once or more
but brambles return
clouding our vision
erecting prison bars..
So press the button
for clarity's return
for exile relieved
for grace revealed..

...is not a moment
but a sighting
of a re-coloring
of that Presence..

...is always a surprise
a radical expression
shining in newness
in that Presence..

...is a reminder
not of how things are
but how we are
as that Presence...

toward real Life..
Observe the rising of
thoughts and perceptions..
Don't allow these
to claim your identity..
Be the observer
which you always are
removed from objects
and clever subtleties..
Experience the freedom
when you take that step..
You are ready now to:
think and not think
perceive and not perceive
act and not act...

Shall we live all our days
in searches unending..
A journey we call it
in pleading our pursuits..

Rail tracks as a point
in the distance appear..
Yet arrival displays
as it has before
a split and a point..

Might we not consider
staying in the station..
Reversing our gaze to
our journey's beginning..
And finding there
the Peace which
I already am...

Might it be
that prayer only exists
when the one praying:
Burns
beliefs of separation..
Burns
any prayer prepared..
Casts
the concepts
of mind and body
into the spreading fire..
And bathes in the  recognition
of transparent abundance..
The prayer is now praying...

What is nonduality?..she asked..
The Truth lies in this:
words are inadequate to explain
That which she already knows..!

There is a backing away
from our habitual entanglements
with the world out there
and this question arises:
Who is reading these words..?

Remembering our school years
and life's many classrooms
this vital question
was quite amazingly
never asked..

Seemingly overlooked
was our Self as witness
to each lesson learned..
The price of avoidance of
naming and experiencing

That which we always have been:
we accepted our brokenness
forgetting our identity
as Wholeness.. as Oneness
as.. I am...

These words must point
and must burn..
Burning in their origin
to which they now face..
Thus revealing the light
of Aware I am..
These words are short lived
having risen as mind
in their original vastness..
Words shine in our knowing
the flames they become..
Rising and burning
serving our Joy...

Just why is this true..?
Consider:
Any possible world would
be made of our Awareness..
A world
makes a seeming ripple
in the sea of Awareness..
It is as a wave
making appearance
made of water
in the sea of Ocean..
Does it matter which
ripple or world we experience..?
It is best in the moment
of its appearance
but soon is replaced by
a sister ripple...

This arriving finally
with understanding
a perceiving up close
proceeds from this moment..
A moment of release
from captive bars
and a knowing now
of the brilliance alone
singing in the moment
as Everything...

Each of us creates
that which appears..
This truth startles
yet attracts our daring..
Each longs to be free
of Newton's hold
but such freedom is
named as folly..
So we remain
waiting for grace
to bless our daring...

Daily experience for most
is a delightful fearful mixture..
We are content to allow the mixture
to serve as undoubted real..
Acceptance of the
warp and woof
is the life we know..
Yet pain and distortion
confusion and doubt
lead some to question..
And in questioning to
discover  Reality anew..
Finding:
warp and woof
are most blinding
hiding our inherited light
declaring enforced separation
ensuring captivity remains...

These denizens of creation
fall short in our bifurcated minds..
We render ourselves
as the conscious ones
find disfavor on those below..
Yet now with a quantum question
we ask who is conscious
and consulting our experience
which is always at ready
an answer returns:
not dogs, not cats, not plants or rocks
and amazingly not our divided selves..
The quantum question receives its answer:
only consciousness is conscious..
This fearful response
settles into freedom
for all those dogs and cats and all...

Each creates all that appears..
This truth which startles
each longs to experience..
Simply..
Each longs to be free
of Newton's hold
but the freeing presents
as lonely folly..
Simply..
It seems each uniqueness
must dare to experience
this old new truth..
Simply..
The pumpkins and gods
all new creations each creates
soon vanish..
Simply..
That which remains
turns..dissolves..and Knows..
Simply...

Our minds project and name:
this realization is rumbling
underneath our shadows and struggle..
Is it not amazing
that externals are projections
awaiting..but not long.. for their names
eagerly provided by heady minds..
This realization reverses
our notions..those heady beliefs
of separation as wisely undeniable..
Although the rumbling often seems
fleeting and faint
not reportable in shadowy newsdays
real Happiness is found seeping in...

Waiting for the white paper
which underlies this writing
to loose a flow of words
finding Peace
in the facing-off:
a pumpkin and a purple cushion..
Henry David Thoreau chose
to sit on a solitary pumpkin
not a crowded purple cushion..
Many we know might charge him
with most slothful neglect..
Our venerable teachers
have exhorted us to
lift up the purple
with their assumption:
what is real is purple..
Yet we..startled by experience
find that very often
purple is pain..
We long to sit on that pumpkin
long since overgrown
with dead purple vines..
At last in our longing
the pumpkin may speak
of what lies in hiding
.. 'til just now..
with Peace emerging
the Pumpkin is Purple...

With our thoughts and perceptions
we give credence to separation:
a self which experiences the world
the world we have always known..
Better however..an apparent self
seeming to experience an
unfolding world..
Even Better..an unperturbed Self
colored and shaped
but knowing only My Self..
But perhaps Best..simply I am...

Sharp edges are boundaries
in our perceptions which exhibit
the persistent illusion of a mind plus world..
So we allow the encroachment of Awareness
to soften the sharp
to expose the illusion
and bring us to discovery
of the Self reality
which as background lies ..
Allowing the sharp edges
to be sharp once more
made now of persistent Beauty...

Is a seeming something really so..
This word "seem" hedges our certainty
de-sharpens the edges of the object world
which in this moment is the scene we survey..
But on reflection it seems (that word again)
that all observations must begin with
this oft-neglected preface..
Seeming give recognition
to what we can know and the
wool which often diminishes our seeing..
Certainties melt in a wave of seeming
and somehow seeming brings
a wave of Peace...

The search goes on
to discover at last
that we are not alone..
Yet others wait
for the discovery
that we are alone..
Alone in knowing
that Awareness knows
itself Alone
and that we
and this exoplanet
color our Awareness
as we remain Alone...**


Closest Exoplanet To Earth -- August 2016
On Aug 24 2016, the European Southern Observatory announced the confirmation of the closest exoplanet to Earth. This illustration (see polarityinplay.blogspot.com) shows Proxima b, which orbits its parent star Proxima Centauri, the closest sun to Earth's sun. Proxima b lies within its sun's habitable zone, strongly suggesting the planet has liquid water on its surface.
Huffington Post

Surround the irritation
the painful thought
the dull itch..
Ask that surrounding
the identity of that
which it surrounds..
Our real Self
is thus exposed
and touches the pain
which now.. undisguised
is found as One
with infinite Self...

It must be the freshness and freedom
an issuing forth from night's rest..
It is flow from a real self
before the veiling of day's concerns..
There is a springing of words
seemingly from the morning sun
or from the silence of the new day
not yet stained by separation's illusions..
It is a portrait of ourself
as we always have been...

Awareness remains
never enters or departs..
The spider approaching my chair
in this moment
is an appearance soon departing..
And a gentle rain
just gave way to sunshine..
Two more fleeting perceptions
gaining attention
within and as
the remaining Awareness
which you and I must be...

When the Self descends
to the self..
Mind contractions obscure
a free and open identity
our attention is needed..
Not logic laced in more worry
but a recognition of vastness
no..of infinity
of the Self which we
seemingly left behind..
Thus we deplete and dissolve
a wave of worry
in an ocean of
newfound clarity...

Luke Michael is his name...
A milestone in a life we observe
now edging on reason's time..
That time in which most seem
to forever engage and remain..
But for now
he enjoys with delight
a Presence
and he lives in that place
to which we all long to return..
Today in play and celebration  
I discover that from this place
we have never departed...

We now await the recognition
of the image of our shadow..
Our anger has been expressed
as we witnessed a ladder of insult..
In the mirror of our collectivity
the ego unleashed is displayed...