The Dogma of a Warrior

My art is FORGIVENESS

My religion is EMPTINESS

My practice is BLISS

My food is INSPIRATION

My vision is UNITY

My intention is PEACE

My strength is FLEXIBILITY

My faith is BELIEF

My medicine is LOVE

My passion is TRUTH

My guide is INTUITION

My quest is MEANING

My shield is COURAGE

My destiny is BEAUTIFUL

My life is a BLESSING

for I Am a Warrior

and you are too.

The Annihilation of Self

The annihilation of self

is only

an intellectual process

insofar as that self can be carried

by a consciousness.

But,

a consciousness has limits,

and once we understand

that as long as we carry

a self

around

in our pocket,

it will never expand,

or develop,

or charge that cosmic gap

where our true nature is revealed

and our consciousness remembers

its place amongst

all of life.

Once fully awakened,

the self  becomes universal,

and once again contributes

to the evolutionary force

which motivated a self

to become one
with Truth.

Morning Meditation

I open myself up
breathing
deeply,
with eyes a-closed,
feet a-fixed
firmly on the ground,
barefooted,
feeling the earth beneath my feet,
while silently
reciting
a prayer for the Great Mother.
Soon enough
the mind sits still,
while the soul
goes a-floating
like a cloud
across
the great expanse of sky

I find myself struck
more and more frequently
by spontaneous fits
of laughter—
consumed by the sole thought
that life is a miracle
and it is beautiful
to be alive

Deep down

if you are ever wondering

about something grand,

if some astonishing energy

is bursting at the seems to meet you,

if there is some great calling

within you

and

there is no explaining why

it’s choking—

turn the mind inside out

so its electricity is dispersed

and can light up the surrounding sphere—

just as a leap of faith

often

precedes trust,

only when you fully let go

and fully surrender

can

such an act

render

you
multi-dimensional

It's up to you
to decide
upon
the person
you will become—
and, no matter the decision
you make
about
the integrity
of your character—
out there,
amongst the stars,
your destiny
is patiently awaiting
your choice
so that
it can
change
the world

The Desert Chrysalsis

Love
is transformative,
a variety of medicine
that tempers
the hard-rigid
outer layer
of soul
by perforating
greatly
the dispensable
guide
of self
until
those higher vibrations within
are engaged and developed
and brought forth
with a new
and refined
integrity—
an ecdysis of sorts—
and whether given
or received
love remains delicate,
like the wings
of a butterfly
at the tail end
of an epic migration,
yet
forceful enough
to pull
the heart
towards
divine proclivities,
as the moon
pulls the tides
and shapes the world
naturally

Gratefulness

Gratefulness is a word
that expands the mind
to the unlimited possibilities

of heart-astounding wonder,
that provides an escape
from the prison
of suffering
created

by the mind
to contain itself.
Except,
gratefulness is not just a word;
it is a feeling
that can dissolve
the ceiling
of limitation
and reveal
a cosmic world
of everlasting peace
and beauty
and
mindfulness.
Gratefulness if like a flower,
a sweet
and delicate
teardrop of the sky
waiting
to bloom for you
and nourish
that pocket
of your soul
searching
for honey.

First Snow

When the first snow of the year finally hits,

a wonderful silence permeates the air.

It dampens

the profound echoing of the buddha

mountains,

and the singing of the trees,

leaving only the wind to howl as it howls and barks

through the groaning canyons of antiquity.

It's this same dampening

coming to me

when the eyes are closed,

when the rhythm of the breath and my beating heart

sweep me away

in a holy trance.

The same charging silence.

The same

perfectly choreographed thoughtlessness

springing forth from the void.

Healing all the loneliness

the hopelessness-

erasing any sickness of the mind.

It hits you for a moment.

And when fading,

you realize: "It is coming.

So I don't have to wait

for it

any more."

One Rock Dharma

A Moment of Inspiration

The sun never sets on a September sky
It just keeps blazing
With that white golden light of eternity
And it dangles from pursed lips
Like the ember at the end of a cigarette
Waiting
Out
That slippery slope
Of inspiration and its translation
Into something communicable
That delicate balance of panic and patience
Not all of us have it
Some of us wish for it
Some of us let it fade away
That precise moment of clarity
When the sun hits the lips
And the world is speaking
Of a beautiful creature
That never dies

War

War- in its cruelest form

gifts a man with conflict

so that he knows

the horror of darkness

and can make a promise

after the war has been seen through

to retire to a quiet place

where the birds can sing

and the sweet smell of spring flowers

can draft through the house

on warm, sunny afternoons—

but he never forgets

that festering whore of war

where the soul is lost

and mankind sees their most dreadful days—

except in the most extraordinary of ways

war is the only way

a man can know peace

truly

in his heart

after living the loss of it,

and with absolute resolve

commit

to hold peace close

and never let

it be pillaged
again

Revival

There is a droplet of the universe

descending from the heavens—

A clear, luminescent bulb

of an electric orb—

Pulsing.

Beating.

I see its colors,

spreading out like veins

as it pulsates—

An image in my mind

of a cell

with infinite dendrites

all connected together,

all interconnected together—

the variegate web—

I see it coming

down,

to stroke my cheek—

the sweet shocking clip of a raindrop

on the jowl

it touches

and then is gone—

But I can’t stop thinking

about the fantasy
of it becoming me

Sun and Bugs

SUN AND BUGS

So many a-bugs congregate beneath the lights of street lamps

Believing it to be their sun

Little do they know, that another

Rests 10 feet away

With a separate population

But all the street lights shine brilliantly

Beneath a vibrant half moon

Illuminating the sky

And all bugs that reside beneath each street lamp

Are in love with the same bright light

That lies within an even greater light, the moon

And that, to me, is God

The lighting of street lamps

And the shining of the moon

And it all exists so perfectly together

Without any streetlight having anything to do with the moon

And any bug interfering with the light except to bask in it

Because the unity underlying all life

Is that we all seek to bask in the light

With out ever really knowing

Whether or not the same light

Rests 10 feet away

Themes

The Infinite

Nature of Light

Everything is Cyclical

There is a particular aspect of poetry that should, in the words of John Keats, “soothe and embolden the soul to accept mystery.”  Poetry doesn’t always fill in every gap or make plain the story being told; much is open to interpretation.  Sometimes the power of a poem evolves out of its mystery, much like music, which would not exist without its counterpart— silence.

I’m talking about bugs but I’m not really talking about bugs.  The reference is there to start you out on a microcosmic level before expanding out and referencing the infinite.  A population of bugs beneath a street lamp may seem as a world unto itself.  But a population of bugs is intricately intertwined with countless other populations, some of which are servants to, perhaps, a more illustrious source of light.

The streetlamps are there to accredit a specific method, approach, or design to worship God.  And although that naked truth is not directly stated, the allusion is to that of light— bringer of the divine, an envoy of awakening.  The streetlamp is not divinity itself, but a conduit for divinity.  As an example, organized religions are mediums for worship.  Muslims may have a specific text to pay homage to, or have daily practices, all of which honor and glorify their interpretation of what is right and what should be exalted.  And those practices and those texts may be very different for the Buddhist man who spends hours a day meditating or a Catholic woman who speaks with a priest to atone for her sins.  But each and every one of those spiritual trajectories are magnificent in that they find beauty in the divine and purpose for it— divinity elevates the mundane and considers every process towards its discovery as sacred.  In this respect, those who worship divinity all worship the same essence, which is why I say: “all bugs that reside beneath each street lamp are in love with the same bright light.”

The moon is there to play the part of a greater force, again suggesting the possibility of infinite layers of worship and indeterminable confines for divinity.  And how do we know whether or not we are like bugs to a streetlamp, admiring what we refer to as our sun?  There is no way to know, and that is the mystery.  But isn’t it beautiful?  Isn’t it transcendent?

So if we are all in love with the same bright light, it should all exist so perfectly together.  Without any streetlamp having anything to do with the moon.  And no bug interfering with the light except to bask in it.

Balance

The key to balance is finding the right meeting point between overabundance and vacancy.  This point of convergence is always shifting, always changing.  But it is through this tension from each polarity where we find contentment and movement.

There’s one lesson that I have learned over the years in regards to my yoga practice- at least one that is coming to mind- and that is: you never really settle into a pose.  You are constantly working, adjusting, and staying mindful of your position.   A harmony arises between the right amount of effort and non-effort.  You are always working the asana.  There is force, without being forceful.  There is ease, but you are never being lazy.  In a physical respect, I always like to ask myself whether or not I can smile.  If not, I need to back off.  But of course yoga is like peeling back an endless onion, and is not just a physical discipline.

            This type of mindset can also be applied to other aspects of your life, and does not hold solely for a yoga practice.  But just because we do not settle, does not mean that we feel unsettled- and this is an important distinction.  We can always be enthusiastic to move forward and improve while also being perfectly happy and content where we are before the move, right here right now.

            It is healthy to look forward, to plan, and to dream.  Whether we our working on our personalities, our mental habits, our aspirations, or our day-to-day, it is important to have a vision and act from that place.  But, the drive should not come from a desire to reach that place.  Much sadness arises when we live like this because we are acknowledging a disparity.  We must be able to look forward, but also bring ourselves back to the present and work in that space.

Taking the Side of Perfection

“…And only now can I say, after the experience I had on the side of the river where I was alone in the dead of night with the primordial sound of nature all around, contemplating, when I had a complete turnabout and revelation concerning how I had been living my life- I now wanted some way of putting that feeling of absolute peace and serenity and harmonious solitude into my own day-to-day.  It seems to me entirely reasonable to suspect- maybe meaning something or maybe not- that the swell of being comes to a head from time to time, without knowing or reason or a flash to suspect, that no reflection or vivid memory can recount that divine sense of living, of being alive, when the universe dissolves in the palm your hand and becomes you- we put our heads down and carry along just waiting for the next crazy adventure to consume us.”

-Extracted from One Subtle Tempest

There is one facet of experience that can never be taught, never be given to an individual- and that is the feeling one becomes acquainted with when the I of the self fades away, when the vacuous space between one soul and another becomes a current that runs through the body, and when the mindset instantly shifts from the perception of division to a sense of perfect unity and harmony.  It is at this juncture when we must decide for ourselves whether or not to live from this space and seek it out as our life’s work, or to let it fade away, perhaps taking what we need in the process.  But graveyards are full of middling swordsmen, and this sort of light and love only fills those who choose carry it with every step along their path.

We all have a dharma.  A tree has a dharma; a fish has a dharma, a deer, even the fly that buzzes in your house and the small plankton swimming in the sea.  We can only know what our nature is, and carry it out in the best way we know how.  For a very long period of time I used to be angry about the battle I have had with Lyme disease, and other chronic health concerns and their lasting aftereffects.  I wasn’t angry about anything I did in particular.  In fact, many things were perhaps completely out of my control.  But I was just angry- angry at my situation, the past, what could have been different.  But, my point is that if this sort of aimless rage goes untreated, it turns itself onto every other situation in your life, resembling resentment and discontent.  But just like we cannot blame the people in our lives that put us down, I cannot blame the tick for carrying out it’s dharma- that is, to survive and attach to a host.  It was doing what it knew how, carrying out it’s dharma.  You see, we all live together in this harmonious dance.  We all live from the same source, the same one fountain of divine love and perfection.  We must see everything- the traffic on our way to work, the rain that doesn’t cease for a week, the leaves falling from a tree- as perfect.  When we remove our thoughts and beliefs about our life, and try to think what that would mean in a year, two, a hundred, or even five-hundred thousand years- the small trivial worries begin to fade and a shift happens.  We become a fly on the wall.  We learn to live and enjoy living in this dance.  Because wherever we are, whatever has happened, is surely perfect.

So if you question this post, ask yourself a something.  If you have the choice to see you life as perfect or flawed- and could not be sure about the truth of either state- why not choose the side of your favor and decide for yourself that it is certain and live from that place?

I think what I envy the most about any other, seemingly forceful man, is his overwhelming sense of a clear vision.  Unhindered, luminous, commanding this vision drives a man forward and gives him something to live for, dynamically.  Drives his soul forward through the world, gives purpose and harmony to the mind, the body, the spirit.

I keep telling myself that when I stumble across these urges, that I will surrender to them- that is, relinquish any resistance, or force, imposed upon these insights, which may limit their full blossoming.  That I will find my commanding voice, my vision, my passion.

Well…I have had one of these insights tonight.  And I am writing it down.

I have engaged in quite a lot of self-harm throughout my 24 years.  Self-harm can come in many forms.  But for me mainly it pertains to violent thoughts about myself, thoughts that manifest into fear, obsessions, divisions and anxiety.  And I believe that I have found one integral step to help me reverse this disorder.  Stop eating meat.  And while I will not divulge into specifics- here are some reasons:

I keep hearing, and stumbling across, the phrase, “be the change you wish to see in the world.”  Well, what I wish to see is the cessation of all violence- that being, all outward expressions of savagery as well as the abolition of the onslaught of murderous thoughts that flood our brain throughout the days and nights.  Constantly we pick at our bodies and our habits emphasize our division between the people around us as well as the animals around us.  For this reason, I can not actively participate, and consume other flesh, in the knowing that I have taken another’s life- particularly when I have had no control over how that animal was raised, fed, and eventually killed.

I think we to often forget that the food we consume also carries with it a life force.  In biological terms, you could think about it as the live enzymes or micronutrients that exist in your food, and slowly decrease the longer the food has been removed from its source.  I think everyone could agree that there is no comparison to a carrot bought in the store and one that is still screaming after you plucked it out of the ground.  In addition, we no longer really pay attention to all of the things that we put in our bodies, what preservatives or chemicals are in particular products, what ingredients are in this or that.  Food has lost its meaning to us and no longer feeds our souls.  Yes, perhaps, food still has profound cultural meaning and in a social respect still has value.  But, we ignore that all conscious beings come from one source, one love, one divine energy- It may very well be possible, that by limiting the amount of meat I eat, I could limit the amount of fear, and sadness, and cruelty transferred to me by the animals who experienced these emotions during their days.

I want so very badly to have a strong vision and live by it, to transport myself to a place where the opinions of others have no hold on me.  I want to see an end to the cruelty man has imposed upon animals within the modern machine.  I want fear, and hate, and killing to be absent from my thoughts and actions.  These are the wishes I intend to be fulfilled.  That is all for now.

An Inkling

It is not so very often that I find myself worked into an unintended fervor, when the very scope of my being is placed into such a perspective, and the meaning of my life revealed with such clarity- but it happened tonight, and has been happening for some time now with more frequent a reoccurrence.  I don’t know how to explain it, exactly.  It’s almost as if I find myself transported for a brief time.  As if for no apparent reason at all, no provocation, my sensibilities begin to shift.  It begins with a laugh, no maybe an internal one- a smile.  It doesn’t matter whether or not the energy that preceded it was of a positive nature or injurious to my energetic consistency- in either respect I find myself increasingly aware of the intention that comes before the shift, and I find that mindfulness most invigorating and releasing.  The beauty lies in seeing either design as simple and perfect and exactly as it should be.  My aim is not to give credence to the view that every event is preordained.  In another way, my position- rather, the development of my position during this “shift”- is simply that of relaxing into a state of deep contentment.  And that is the initial phase.

Next, it’s as if my chest balloons with a great expansiveness, as if it fills with the love of all the world.  But it doesn’t create a tension.  It’s almost as if you’re bleeding out, or melting in with all this love.  The sensation is warm, it’s impressive, and it’s moving.  It comes with an understanding that within the depths of each and every one of us lies a profound rapture for all things, for ourselves, for the blade of grass that blows in the westerly winds, for the lone tree that sits atop a hill and never says a word- an admiration for every experience that lies within the spectrum of our exposure.  Compassion.  This inspiration is accompanied by visual images, a more universal receptiveness, and perhaps a considering that the slight urges driving my body forth in this time and space once propelled me in another.  And because this whole process is new, I have an inquisitive mind.  I start wondering how the whole process began, the method of it’s unfolding.  The brevity of the occurrence puzzles me, and why I cannot choose to remain in such a heavenly state.  But there is one style of feeling that endures.  Every time that I find myself immersed by such a circumstance, I know that it is no accident.  I know that with each subsequent occurrence, the one that follows will be even easier to prompt.  And then, I know that these shifts will have made such an impression on my heart that there is no going back; there is no returning.  The sway from such a love will have reached a critical point.  And while I know it will take some diligence to remain transfixed by that love, the influence of that sway will remain with me forever.

And for the sake of this journaling I’ll divulge specifics (also taking into account my declining stamina for this craft)- that is, some personal realizations I had on this day.  First is how profoundly I can read someone’s intentions.  That their mere presence alters my body in such a way that I too feel their impulses.  Not what their exact move may be, but whether or not that move is driven with a good intention- whether or not their heart is pure.  And every once in a while this sensation is joined by the representation of colors that flash before my eyes- a divine collage that only my gut knowing can interpret.  That is the best way I know how to explain it.  It is not an image; rather a story being told about that person in the form of a painting which actualizes before me.  I have always been somewhat more adeptly tuned into the minutia than anyone else I have met in my life.  I notice the small ticks, the subtle noises that a person makes, the way they hold their eyes or the rest of their body, the slight inflections of the voice, the tiny dirt speck in the corner of a floor, the trail someone leaves behind whilst moving through a room- my ability to notice the unnoticeable is an attribute I used to hold with contempt.  It used to drive me mad that I could hear and see all of these things.  I could not separate myself from them.  I was (and possibly still am) not able to view these happenings objectively.  My body actually transforms to accommodate the intentions of others and the circumstances around me.  If I see someone holding tension in their body, I too hold that tension.  But I am getting thicker skin.  And what I once used to view as obsessive or irrational is a skill that has its place in something more transcendent.  That is the first realization.

Second, and lastly for the evening, is my recognition of the universality of an urge.  And I’ll keep this brief, for it is an idea relatively premature and novel to me.  But I have an inkling that I have peered through the keyhole of time and laid my sights on lifetimes that I have lived before.  That all the likes and dislikes, and I mean to say the passions truly, have come from a life that is currently not perceived to be my own.  Each and every time I find myself pulled to feel a particular way, this too is accompanied by a visual image- an old worn out mental memory too blurry, or not vivid enough to yet make out.  But there is a perception deep within myself, a brilliant and sophisticated knowing, of an energetic conduit that has passed from one lifetime to the next and now it has found myself, here in this body, and that is all I can say.  I have just scratched the surface.  I dare say that there is still much more exploring.