Understanding
is
the experience that relieves
the desire encasing our
search for an answer..
this relaxation is a taste
of the freedom of knowing
for an instant
our real Self..

Understanding
is not
another thought
or conception
but the noticing that
there is a fire
in which the desire
is no more
and a luminous Joy
arises and claims
ourself...

Trees are the permanent
the eternal
which we forget
in our hastiness..
our identity lost
the objects of life
stand forth claiming
special reverence..
until once more
the tree experience
states our permanence
in which our lives
display in passing..
the silent tree
brings us home and
reintroduces ourself
to ourself...
~CC

are the permanent
the eternal
which we forget
in our hastiness..
our identity lost
the objects of life
stand forth claiming
special reverence..
until
the tree experience
brings us home and
reintroduces ourself
to ourself...

paths must be lines on maps
no matter how subtle their appearance..
there is a leap
in realizing all paths reach nowhere..
futility then is the path end
and our key to the heart...
~CC



(You must always keep in mind that a path is only a path. Each path is only one of a million paths. If you feel that you must now follow it, you need not stay with it under any circumstances. Any path is only a path.
There is no affront to yourself or others in dropping a path if that is what your heart tells you to do.
But your decision to keep on a path or to leave it must be free of fear and ambition.
I caution you: look at every path closely and deliberately.
Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself and yourself alone this one question. Does this path have a heart?
All paths are the same. They lead nowhere. They are paths going through the brush or into the brush or under the brush of the Universe.
The only question is: Does this path have a heart? If it does, then it is a good path. If it doesn’t, then it is of no use.
Carlos Castaneda)

relative truth seems to reign
we know of differing advice:
honda or subaru..marriage or not..
some of those..religiously inclined
look for truth in the vastness of
scriptures and commentaries..
science searches in their observing
for what seems most elegant..
we all may benefit from some timely
advice: movie actors do not find
the Truth...

a soothing word
about a surface..
the choppy waves
have calmed and
the evening sun
reflects in a
placid mirror..
our freedom..
it seems
depends on
polishing to placid
our reflecting self...

within our Stillness
a wind arises
and paints patterns
ridges and rows
canyons and hills
shaping our Stillness..

that which seems
are appearances
from perceiving or
projecting the world:
the news
the coming election
that caravan..
these paint our canvas
and we..by habit
become the paint..
we are disturbed
as much
seems disturbing:
disturbance adds paint
to our canvas..
the times are cunning
as Shakespeare warns..
might we see through
our deceptive paint...?

("The seeming truth
which cunning times
put on to entrap
the wisest."
William Shakespeare)

Sinking

we have a glimpse
an early understanding
of who we are..
the glimpse gained entry
via thoughts and feelings..

with this glimpse
the ego arises
draped as thought
and feeling
and makes mention
with congratulatory
exuberance..that we
have at long last
discovered our self..

but in quiet moments
the ego is afraid of
the vast blue sea
which we also have
glimpsed..surrounding
these thoughts and
feelings..

we have a cultured
ego which has been
living protected for
these..our many years..
but now the sea
threatens our self:
as sea stories
often end
in sinking...

This
if you haven't noticed
is everyone's name..
And to find our own truth
all that is needed is to
consider our name..
Why do each of us
have the same name..?
after all..we all seem
so different..
Does I really mean I..?
We must take notice:
I seems vast
but also seems limited
and located
and moving to and fro..
And with this notion
we seem to forget
our name..
That's about it..!

(All religions are formed
after someone notices..)

is a name sometimes
said to fall to a person
suffering from illusion..
an unfortunate
misapprehension..!
a person whose name
is Maya
knows the illusory nature
of multiple appearances which
are produced by our powers of
conception and perception..
knows the veiling of her Self
by those asserting appearances..
knows these appearances
do not have a
life of their own..

Maya Knows...!

it is the dark shading
the tightly sealed blind
denying the light
at our core..
with the darkness
the creation feels
alone..separated and
fear shouts out..
explosions express the
darkness and isolation
with deafening sounds
and telltale sparks..
but dare I say
the sparks remind us
through the horror
of the shaded light...

when these words occur
we imagine the place
from which they emerge..
since time long ago
this place has been assumed
as within the body
we have so long occupied..
evolving now in spurts
is a new day of realizing
that the thought arises
in a place much vaster
in a new "I" which
loses its ****** bounds
and with this loss
the soon fading of I...

Not eyesight..but clarity
beyond words:
The illuminating clarity
which one finds inside
and discovers in another..
Whether beggar or wealthy
the common light
is spellbinding..
Not to be understood
apparently
by those whose clarity
remains befuddled and
dimmed..

There is an equality
to be observed in
what seem as the
segments of life..
All are appearances
in the present moment..
(Really not a moment
but Now outside of time..)
Work and play are
simply modifications of
Now
into seeming forms:
one form or another
but the pleasure and
the truth come
from the discovery
that the same Field or
Now
underlies and
composes all...

Quantum science
(consider John A. Wheeler)
has edged to the edge:
equations seem to ask
are we observing or
projecting..?
astonished they are
as are we..
Yet..we await
a recognition in
our experience of
consciousness-as-only
to finally..from
a new point-of-view
know that we
are really projecting...!

How might we see
Job and the whirlwind
to uplift our day..?

Job was visited by
the whirlwind
after his story of
misfortune..and advice
from friends long on
common sense
but short on
understanding..

Job the sufferer
after frustrated
searching for reasons
and with surrender
encountered the
whirlwind..

He discovered
and finally understood
himself as whirlwind
within and made of
the perennial source
  of it all...

beliefs interfere
with any notion
of who we are..
beliefs lodged in
our ego selves
stand as protection
of the ego itself..
beliefs may have
been founded on
a bedrock of truth
but now are
trying to endure
as a curtain
blocking our view
of our luminous
and joyful  
Bedrock...

is that of our lives
of peace and welcome
and actually
home is what we are
in which
colors flow..
so..the immigrants
are searching for home
in a new place
not their old..
they
search for their
identity which is
in essence our own..
this journey is theirs
and ours to take
as we find our
common home...

are the appearances of
what is at last recognized as unreal:
the imprisoning belief in limitation
of the body and mind by appearance..
discovering appearance as appearance
enflames the old and worn belief
and makes clear: the prison has
no bars...

Charley Harper
is my example..
His animal forms are
minimal and simplistic..
(you can google his name..!)

Charley was a forerunner of
consciousness-only awakening
which is today offered as a
paradigm of hope..

Each life form
bird animal insect tree
expresses and abides
in something more..

Essence is consciousness
manifesting within itself
a plethora of forms with
geometric brushstrokes..

This artist's stroke finds
our commonality in beauty
the recognition for which
each of us longs...

A brain scan is viewed
and seems to record
the busyness of a brain
most independent and active..
A brain viewed as  creator
with the scan recording the
colors and shapes..as this
electrical flesh originates our
minds and our lives..

However..we are invited to pause
and experience a revolution..
a revolution of reversal:
a top-down point of view replacing
an old and worn bottom-up..

Consciousness-only is napping
and dreaming of you and me
as we live our bottom-up lives..
on a promising day..a new
point of view finally dawns:
top-down is a gift of freedom..
we are shocked to find that
we are the one napping
and dreaming of breakfast and
jewels and brain scans...

we apparently need
to notice once more
and once more
the impermanence of it all..
coming and going
in and out
appear..disappear..

and an apparent need
to identify with
that which is not fickle
that in which all of the
temporary disturbances
have their time and say..

that is not something
but seems there anyway..
undisturbed..
yes..notice...

We've
witnessed the hearings
with many concluding:
she said..he said..
Such expressions seem
as uttered through many
shaded lenses..

Our way
of knowing the world
as Two and not One
will quickly provide
a shaded vision
until
the shades are recognized
for what they can be:
the color and beauty
of difference in our
seeming creation..

Returning
to the hearings
with cleaner lenses
we see the varying
shades and colors
of thought and emotion
pervading the talking
and the One
seems quite hidden..

A sign of caution:
Justice
is best served
through cleaner lenses...!

This was his challenge to
a different understanding..
A proper challenge..I might add..
which can be boiled down to
a choice of perception..
We appear to live in a world
of separation..of duality..
and common sense asserts:
yes..this indeed is
a pencil..

A different knowing
is suggesting a
new..yet quite old
perception..
Our inner subjectivity
questions the solid object
said of our pencil over there..

To then discover:
the pencil is made of our
seeing and touching and thinking..
these not separated
from the "I"
that is perceiving..
The Oneness of "I"
asserts now and clears
with joy
centuries of illusory
perception...

Consider:
just a recognition
that this page is white
and the print thereon
seems to declare
a difference..
appearance is different
but the difference melts
when it is noticed
the print is in and of
the white page..
difference is appearance..

Consider:
might this recognition
this brief metaphor
replace all religions
in the world's story?

How
does Experience
appear..?
Mainly it is flow
sometimes swift
sometimes gathering..
It is the
temporary seeing
and hearing which
the river can teach..
We make a shift:
the river separated
to the river within..
And when the river
is found within
we know then
the river is made
of what we are..
This subtle shift
experienced
is all of
Everything
we can know...
~~CC

Experience

How
does Experience
appear..?
Mainly it is flowing
sometimes swift
sometimes gathering..
It is the
temporary seeing
and hearing which
the river can teach..
We make a shift:
the river separated
to the river within..
And when the river
is found within
we know then
the river is made
of what we are..
This subtle shift
experienced
is all of
Experience
we can know...

If we imagine a scale:
on one end we are unfocused
and the other focused..
(subjective and objective
if you like..)

The needle seems pegged
on focus for many centuries
and may be stuck..

Focus has brought us much
but has..alas.. compressed our
peace and happiness..

We may now be entertaining
the possibility of moving
the needle toward unfocused..

Perhaps sliding the needle
all the way.. removing
all focus and form..

Moving the needle may
show us we can slide it
bringing new freedom..

Finally.. then to know
the needle is made
for sliding...!

there
are presumptions
concealed within most of our
Questions..
and the presumption
hidden away is
ironically
the answer we seek..!
presumptions are kindling
awaiting the fire
which will burn both them
and their home in the
Question..
kindling is chopped by our
language which cannot
help itself..splitting the whole
into many halves..as
knower and known..
So..in the asking of the
Question
our peace requires
igniting the kindling
blowing the spark and
gently burning the
Question...!

do we know
that words and language
create cracks..and
we might be held hostage
to words and language
without knowing their
propensity to crack..

it is the crack of an eggshell
an eggshell of whiteness
allowing life to emerge..
whiteness appears to divide
shaping the world and us
with distinctions galore..

we work with distinctions
as each finds her own..
yet..within each journey
we are invited to
observe once more
a white eggshell
and to notice how words
seem to crack
what cannot be cracked..

then to notice.. cracks
appear and disappear
demonstrating for all
the strength and weakness
indeed the beauty
of our words...

is a life experience
in and of that which we are..
we in seeming smallness
are mind infinite and eternal
which molds each new story..
conceiving and perceiving
our storytelling tools
frame time and space
within that which we are..
and so..a caution: experience
in dreaming and waking
and telling
may seem to conceal
that which we are
with this story..then another..

we know there are many...!

living as a character
in the play of life..and
not believing
there is only the play..
this seems the journey
each of us takes
whether liking or no..
as  character..we limit
and suffer separation..
when not believing
we enter a frightening ride
an abyss of not-knowing
fear..edged in freedom..
what is Arrival..?
knowing we appear
as suffering character
free-falling in a sky
of peace and joy...

the orange sweater
harbinger of autumn..
this leaf coloration reminds and
a warm texture promises
fall sunshine and wind chills..
these thoughts and perceptions
we might observe
as paul cezanne
checked out his carrot
with revolutionary results..
inviting the ordinary
to expose Itself...!

this question seems to be
a shortcut to understanding..
science is compiling and
moving the bar
to surmise a conscious location..
a rock?
a rose?
a cat named mardi?
a dog named smokey?
selina?
robert?
the usa?
the blue marble?
the vast universe?
a sigh of relief comes
when experience reports:
only consciousness is
and you and all
are that...

speculation
is the use of the mind
attempting to discover what is possible
to discover..using the mind..
often there seems to be no sense
of limitation..as the endeavor
indefinitely moves
on and on..

speculation
tries to unify the parts
assumed separated..and
we have gone many miles
as speculation lighted the way..
but we now seem to be
at the end of the road built
by speculation..
might we find futility in
pressing on
at the end of the road...?

Juxtaposed we find
metaphorical possibilities
on the 'oft heard word
"Great.."
in  recent discourse..

The funereal gathering
marked with precision
and heartening oratory
celebrated a life representing
a centered consensus..
claiming a greatness
past and present..
but with darkness lapping
in places too close..

The golf outing
with creditable swing
stands circumferential
representing "deplorables" who
find the center not their own..
yet..a clubbing of truth
and a rough savaging
of human interchange
seem as arousal..

Arousal for rejection of
both sides of this
juxtaposition:
Are we witnessing the
birthing of what is "Great"
all anew...?

separation:
this is what most assume
perhaps or perhaps not
on lifelong journeys..

oneness:
the other assumption
seems to lie in potential
or in possibility
in all of our days..
the latter assumption
closes all gaps
or more truthfully:
discovers the gaps
never were..

all journeys
with their destinations
foreseen and promising
are many searchings
guided by the
first assumption..
apparently
these journeys continue
until..an ending...

Oneness
that is the experience
of your Self..
your real Self..
not the bifurcation
which you and others
have always thought
you to be...

it lies at the core of each of us..
the root..is the appearance of
fundamental separation arriving
soon after birth
and continuing strongly..or weakly..
in life..until it doesn't..
ego is the modern name given to
this primal experience which
is a necessity for health and growth..
ego reality is that of the body
as observer of that outer world..
which is our cultural consensus
our view of things..most of us seem to
live and die in this unquestioned
consensus of who we are..
ego unleashed can become more than
positive personal identity..a tool for
a unique self engaging a troubled world..
the ego can compound the suffering of
separation..reaching for any means
to end the suffering..which increases
our dangers..dangers to self and others..
the only solution and remedy
lies close at hand..yet distant it seems
in our consensus reality..
we must identify the ego's reality
as insufficient for a life well lived
and recognize that it simply veils
something much more:
an identity unbounded and filled
with  peace and grace...

gently tapping
at my chamber door
came this bird
as one word..

the word seemed to say
not your old booklore
not some visitor
not the darkness there
not the whispered name..
but simply perching
and waiting..this word in
my silence..terrified..

I sat on my cushion
with my imaginings
with my memories
some perfumed..
and the word repeated
not these..not these..

a question arose
of biblical import
and in desperation
I implored about the
balm in Gilead..?
the word repeated..

upstarted I demanded
departure..leaving my
loneliness unbroken..
and even to this
the word repeated..

the word still sits
above my chamber door
awaiting my waking
from my life in shadow
floating on the floor...

appear discretely
but seem to grasp us
by the throat
insisting they are
most fleeting
and simply point
to the thing
to which they
point..
What is that thing..?
it seems as
something between
something dancing
and shouting:
don't pin me down...!

it seems
a line to be crossed
a completion to be made
acknowledging truth..finally
of mind over matter
of our inborn projection..
it is a river to be crossed
a small boat through hazards..
hazards of insistence that
the material world speaks
for itself
evolving and sourcing
rising before our eyes
as we await a next move..
easily are we immersed
in lively appearance..
we occasionally back off
noticing our untruthful
immersion..but soon
clamor and curiosity
render our small boat
stalled on this side..favoring
a crossing delay...

from a personal "i"
which occupies our days..
so many schedules and accounts
to be settled..
it has long been so
that our i seems stolen
by habits and chores..

one morning
we might float away
to observe from a distance..
an out-of-body excursion
in which our personal i
morphs as I..

solidity spreads and softens
and we find without effort
a new I..which all have
sought..lifelong..but
beneath habits and chores
are darkly concealed.

resistance is receding
with clarity in bloom
boundaries are softening
rationality for a moment
is brushed away
and experience shines..
teachers..now and past
are placed in our paths
and heard with new eyes..
teachers within..at last
are accepted with joy..
understandings of self
stand in stark contrast
with toxicities without..
new perceptive twists
recognize real roots
and burn the brush
which for centuries
has dimmed our view:
a dream too wild...

There are many who find comfort
on their journeys
by way-stations which are
ready to assist..when summoned..
There are presences there
which color experience..and seem
present as life unfolds..

Moreover..life without form seems
daunting and distant to some
who relish intermediate relief..
Religions have relied on this
very natural desiring..
Providing figures of faith and
stories to map and locate the
light and happiness
we all seek..

Yet..in ancient and modern days
a pondering has arisen in some
about a path more direct
bypassing those many
way-stations..which..having served
now seem to delay arrival..
And..are dissolved by discovery
that way-stations are made of the
light and happiness
we all seek...

Character or characters
are the creation..
but our perceptions and thoughts
conspire to deceive..
drawn and attached
we are enamored with the
momentary pleasures
not recognizing that
these pleasures are momentary
simply colorations of the
hidden aim of all journeys:
discovering true Pleasure...

solid..local..limited
we live our lives
with confined beliefs..
experience of truth
expands
and transforms the
quantities of limits
to qualities of
movement..
we depart from words
and find vibrations:
unhinged..and
describable only
in primitive ways..
words resurrect...