It all comes down to Trust

And not becoming disillusioned along the Way... Not easy.

Truth

It's Gut Wrenching but is the only key.

No words

Some characters sound as though they speak my tongue but they may as well be speaking a foreign language. When  words are understood without having to 'think' about them they sound different, those other words are just too tiring. Words that don't need to be spoken are probably the best of all.

My Reflections

All just characters of my imagination. I create each character and none exist if I don't imagine them. Each image in the mirror looking back at me showing me myself...I JUST WANT TO SHATTER THE MIRROR.

Revealing

Nobody teaches us anything, they simply reveal to us parts of ourselves that we've held out of our awareness...if we're ready to see. And it's not always pleasant.

Love

Both the body and the individual mind will be gone some day...What remains beyond that is All that really matters.

Such Raw Beauty

There's a heart-aching so sharp, so sweet and so bottomless, that both shatters and reassembles us. Such terrible beauty accompanies it, such fathomless yearning, such exquisitely painful gratitude. Endless is this beauty. Upon its shores we break and spill, emptied of the familiarity that self-centers our days and ways.

So very soon we are gone, like dreams vanishing before morning's habits. Did we leave a mark? Only wingprints in endless sky, tracing evaporating goodbyes. Tombstones soon but stardust. Life is our signature, scrawled by the infinitely varied shape-takings of the Real. Such raw beauty, beauty to die for, beauty both to bow to and to be, beauty that simultaneously outlives and is us.

Death makes Life worth living. Death makes beauty unspeakably obvious. Death makes Love unsurpassably important. Death wakes us up. What better ally could we have than Death? Death gives all the same opportunity. Death leaves no one out.

Life is, among other things, a Near-Death Experience. The passing of all things breaks our heart open to what matters most of all. Only through intimacy with Death do we find intimacy with the Deathless.

Gazing into soft blue sky, dissolving in its boundless embrace, cradling each of its clouds, whether weeping or thundering or dancing. Beauty beyond beauty coupling with undisturbable peace, through their succulent embrace revealing — not explaining, but revealing — that each moment contains all moments. This the deep lovers cannot help but recognize, as they die into joy, surrendering their all to the Beloved until they are but clearings for that One. Naked openness, owned by none and belonging to all.

Avoiding Death kills us. Are we not, when we truly tire of doing time and redecorating our cells, dying to live? Dying to really live, to fully live? Dying to stop pretending we are not pretending? Dying to at last enter and fully, fully embody the Life we were born to live?

Such dying is but birth, a labor of love, a making room for a deeper Life. The tenderest upstart green cracks and splits open the concrete sea upon which we are shipwrecked. The messy ecstasy of birth unravels our straitjacketed identity. We bleed and soar, waves breaking on ever-virgin shore, dying into the Undying.

Silence is our witness. Silence has seen it all. Silence cradles our pain until its ache wakes us.

Death doesn't happen to Life. Death serves Life. The beauty of it all, the hyperbole-transcending majesty and wonder of it all, both brings us to our knees and wings us. We go from survival to living, and from living to being lived, and from being lived to Being, losing everything along the way except what most matters.

Loss breaks open the heart, dissolving its armoring. Loss gives beauty its true depth. Death is the mother of loss.

The blue fire of the dying poet's eyes makes ruggedly transparent art of his ravaged face. He cries out, his hoarsely impassioned words the last sigh of a vagabond wave, seafoam dying on some midnight beach. His freedom is in having no choice. His love empties his mind and leaves his body see-through. His final poem is an infinitely sadhappy smile as he freefalls into Death.

And what is his message for us? Let go, let your heart break, let your life be beauty made visible, let all things awaken you, let your life be Poetry, the music of Truth, the epiphanously idiosyncratic soulsong of significance.

And all the words die so, so soon in an avalanche of Silence, their sound and meaning and audience gone. But how they danced in their bright sliver of a moment! And how we danced and loved and wept and blazed in our brief time!

The door is, as always, already open. Openness awaiting openness. The Invitation that will not go away. We are dying to live. Let us not wait any longer. Let us do what it takes. There are not higher stakes.

Robert Augustus Masters

Alive in the uncomfortable zone

Stagnancy occurs in the comfort zone...a fear of moving beyond what the current mindset clings to. But freedom and aliveness can only occur beyond the wall of what's familiar to the small mind. Expansion only happens when the shell of the mindset is broken, when the defense mechanisms arise and we're willing to just be with the uncomfortable feelings of what the mind tells us and tries to cling on to. To hear the Truth and feel the squirming within, to question just maybe we could be wrong, to allow the mind to expand to an acceptance of other possibilities.The Truth is what the small mind least wants to hear but Is ultimately what shatters the shell and allows the Real Self to be born.

Divine Guidance

It's the only voice worth listening to...It always steers in the right direction.

Pain and Suffering

Pain is an inevitable part of this journey we call life. But suffering is the script our minds write to avoid going into the pain. The cure for pain is in the pain itself for those with the courage to go there. For those that don't suffering becomes the story their mind clings to, holding them in a mental cell and self created hell. The key for the cell is a willingness to feel the pain and let go of the story the mind has created. The truth can only be embraced by letting go of one's own self delusions even when the mind squirms and will try to avoid it at all costs...no easy task but one worth embarking on if freedom is to be realized.

Dying to Live

Death is inevitable but a conscious choice of a death of the 'self' while still in the physical body leads to a realization of the True Self, and a full embodiment of life.

Emerging

It has to All collapse in on itself before emergence is complete.

Letting go

I know it's there...just give me the strength to see the gift in this one. Why does trusting the Universe have to be so fucking hard?

Communication

Language can be such an ineffective way of communicating.

The modern journal

Writing in a journal is a way of Self discovery. Blogging seems to have replaced this art. Unfortunately most use it as a way of enhancing the ego and embellishing their story, should be called "The look at me syndrome"...alas the ego will always crave attention. The path to the Self can only be realized by letting go of the story...taking the attention from the self to the Self. The real Self needs no attention.

Inexplicable

The things of the heart can never make sense to the mind...they're not supposed to.

All in a moment

Here and then gone