On Finding Stillness Even When Your Excited

04/28/2006 7:51 AM – 8:14 AM

My focus is nonexistent. My mind is racing through happy courses. My mindfulness is crap. Except that I’m noticing that my mind is racing. The monkey is having a field day. The turtle, well, I’m not quite sure what the hell the turtle is doing. This is a problem, I suppose. Happiness arising from circumstances. Desire running rampant.

I can see so many things just because I have a chance to do something. Where am I? I’m ten thousand places. I’m not just a monkey, I’m a monkey on six cups of coffee. And so be it. It will calm down eventually. Just remember, oh Spike, contentment is found only in the subtle layers. Peace in the deep, deep down. Manic energy is fun, but it is exhausting. Be careful of being exhausted. When you get exhausted, your mind does bad things. So go ahead, enjoy this bit of excitement, but hold back that foundation. Be who you are, remember even in the fast, fast, fast that you must retain the deep stillness. So let go. Be, but keep your wits about you.

In case you forget, this has nothing to do with a girl. This is the thought of finding a place to live for one more year. This is the thought of fixing up your room, building a workbench, buying a motorcycle. All these things can be taken away. Delight in them, but remember that the strength of joy comes from recognizing your gratitude for existence. The light on the budding leaves, the thick shadows of the cool dawn, the blue of the sky that pulls your chest towards the higher winds. What is it that cannot be taken away? In this, invest your energy. Only the underlying stillness that is the fluidity of the thankful mind. Walk. Sit. Be. Recognize that you are alive. Remember that salvation cannot be earned. Nor can hell. Both must be given. You cannot earn peace, only find it. Sell all that you may buy peace. Let go. Place none of your weight on those things that moth and dust may corrupt and thieves may break in and steal. Delight in their presence, but be willing to delight in their absence. The bell has rung. So stop typing, find a picture, take a shower and go to work. Remember always peace. Okay, I’m finished. Go.

The One Where I Wonder About How to Get in the Zone

04/27/2006 7:47 AM – 8:09 AM

It’s odd that I can remember the fact of the times when I can get into no-mindedness, but I can’t capture the essence of it. I didn’t sit well today. I couldn’t calm my mind. My focus constantly drifted. What is it that I’m doing? What is it to do whatever it is right?

This is easier. In this, all that I must do is grab and type. The sentence can fragment. The train of thought can drift. I can jump from one stray idea to the next. And, when I do this, I do forget. I just type the words. But that quality of stillness eludes me. Not always. Sometimes I can jump right in and the things flow from quiet epiphany to quiet epiphany. Not today, though. Today is just practicing. I may not have sat well, but I sat. I may not have quieted my mind but I quieted my body. Well, mostly. I really don’t know how to get into the zone. I don’t really know how to jump from turning over every little thing to sitting still with one quiet thing. And stillness is what I’m shooting for. I’ve picked up that metaphor that stillness is the language of God. I don’t know its factual veracity, but I like how it feels.

Even when I get “really Zen” doing the dishes or cleaning the bathroom, I’m running on two tracks: monkey mind and the action itself. This is not “really Zen.” To be “really Zen” is to be wholly in the action. To feel the internal sensations of muscles working and the external sensations of the skin, and that is all. All thought is directed to cleaning. It’s true that I do lose track of myself, but it’s because I zone out not because I’m in the zone. What’s the difference? The difference is one of focus, which eludes me lately. I can remember that day a few months ago when I walked to the park and back again, most of the time fully focused on the moment. I have no idea how I did it. I can remember walking into the Wilson Farms on the way back and finding that sudden explosion of bright color absolutely amazing. All those yellows. So many shades of yellow. Now my eyes scan it and see “nope, don’t want it” or “yep, want it” or “meh, indifferent to it.” How do I get back there? Without the assistance of substances, I mean. I don’t know. I think that I can. I think that I will. But I don’t know how to go about it. I’ll say this, though. I’m not too terribly worried. I can fall asleep at night. Well, most of the time. I plum forgot that today was Thursday. I went to sleep early (damn it, Lost, a recap show is NOT a NEW episode!), and then I woke up early and didn’t realize that it was my late day until after sitting. So I guess that means I’ll try sitting again. Hmm. Well. You’re in good humor, and that’s a pretty damn good thing. So get to it.

Which Is To Say That Forgetting Is Engaging In Being

04/26/2006 7:54 AM – 8:20 AM

Zazen is the art of just sitting. You should remember that. It is not the art of breathing. It is not the art of forgetting. Those things are a part of it, but they are pleasant side-effects. Just sit. The best part of all acts of creation is when you forget that there is anything apart from what you are doing. But it is not quite forgetting, is it? All things become a part of the act, so they are not forgotten.

“In the zone” – how I hate that expression with its implication of competitive sports, but that is what the experience is. To be come so fully a part of the game that one forgets the game entirely. That is zen. To be Zen is to be in the zone, fully alive, fully awake, yet not noticing that one is alive and awake, because that is a given - there is no other thing to be. To sit is just to sit. To write is just to write. To assist patrons is just to assist patrons. To alphabetize CD’s is just to alphabetize CD’s. To ride the bus is just to ride the bus. It’s the easiest thing in the world. And it’s so damn hard to find your way in. “Of course!” you say, “that’s what that means!” But it is no, “of course.” Of course.

Why did I find it so easy to sit today? Why was it so easy to let go of the wheel and float? Is it that I was alone last night and this morning? Was it that the sun is shining? Was it that I ate fatty foods before I went to bed? And, oddly, that would normally be something that I would worry and fret over. I would analyze and calculate and plan. But right now, I’m just right here. There’s a plane flying by somewhere overhead and it is a part of what I’m doing. There’s cars driving down Elmwood and they are a part of what I’m doing. My keyboard is making clicking noises, and it’s a part of what I’m doing. Where is it? To fulfill the self is to forget the self, to forget the self is to fill the self so that it overflows. St. Ayn isn’t wrong, but neither is St. Paul. There is only self but to be fully selfish is to forget the self and let the self do the beautiful thing that this very self is doing. I don’t know how you find this place, but you can find it. You’ve found it before. I’m here right now. You’ll find your way back. Your symbol is the turtle – your home is always with you. Walk slow and still. This is how God talks to you – in silence – this is how you talk to God. Just sit. Just walk slow. Just be. For this one second, be endless.

In Which There Is a List of Things At the End

04/25/2006 8:21 AM – 8:43 AM

The instants are just the instants, though sometimes, they’re good advice, sometimes bad advice, sometimes they’re just moments. I remember that all time is a series of instants; all time is a flow of unbroken nows. Where do I go? What does it matter where I go? All things will revolve around this second that holds me, no matter where this second is.

What am I looking for? Did you forget that it’s found only in this self that doesn’t exist except as an aggregate of particles and memories in spacetime? What is it that I want? Dig down and it’s just this peace and surety, and that can be found anywhere, anytime. You’re confused about what to do? You’re confused about what you’re supposed to be? Remember, it doesn’t really matter. Just do something. Do anything. Be nobody. The greatest ambition is to have no great ambition. Be what this aggregate is right now. You’re purpose is worry-free. You feed and clothe and house yourself by selling your time to someone else. Time is cheap. Time is impossibly expensive. So be it. What a day this has been. Lift up your head and let go. Sink down into the sunny warmth of the impossible.

Here is what you need to do: go to work. Write some little thing. Take a picture of something. Talk to patrons. Talk to co-workers. Make your lunch. Smoke and think about quitting smoking. Or don’t. Read. Come home. Buy milk and coffee and that third thing that you know you need but can’t remember at the moment. Clean your room. Clean out the fridge. Take out the trash. Watch a documentary. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Get up early and write. Tell yourself a good story. Write down the good story. Find a place to live for the next year. Fix things that need fixing. Don’t fix things that don’t need it. Don’t worry. Live simply. Do not crave fame. Do not crave fortune. Do not crave solitude. Do not crave company. Be what you are in the instant that you find yourself in it. Learn to listen to the silence of God. Walk down the street. Love the things you love. But let them go when they fly away. Sit down. Get up. Hate the things you hate. But let them go when they fly away. Sit down. Get up. Exist peacefully. Forget the things that don’t matter. Remember the things that do. Discover what matters in this moment and forget what does not exist at this moment. Don’t be smart. Don’t be dumb. Be in this moment and let it go when this next moment comes. You will die, but you’re not dead right now. Where are you? You’re right here. The bell will ring, the instants will be done. It will be time to take a picture. Sit down. Get up. Let go.

Which Is About the Fish Not Knowing What Water Is

04/24/2006 3:51 PM – 4:12 PM

And where is he? He’s here. The pain in the pit of my stomach that tells me that there’s still hope. Always the hope. Though he slay me, yet will I praise him. It’s better this way. The light dawn of sadness. Let it melt away. Let the spring thaw begin; let my heart melt to joy, unadorned with this taint of feathery depression.

Save me again, oh God. Save me again. Though I cannot see you. Though I cannot discern the true voice inside me, whether it is just me or just you. Come back to my bed and rock my fear asleep forever more. Is there no comfort in Zion? Or perhaps I have not found my way there yet. Where is the sure map? Where is heaven now? So I sit down and type. Will I write away the drabness of existence? Let me lose myself. Let me be better than I am right now. Comfort me, oh Comforter of Paul and Koholeth. Let me lose this thing that is me in the immensity of the eternal me. Let the me that is me and only me, find it’s own real voice. There is no me. There is only me. Not one, just one. Not two, not one.

When the light comes down on the timeless let this be said, Spike found his own true happiness. Spike found the comfort of the quiet that was God’s voice to him. Is that what you must learn today? If your God speaks the language of silence, learn to speak it in return. What are you living? What is this that rolls about inside you? Say it with the words of no-words. Let me down to the bottom of the true Pacific. Let me sink into the warmth of no-dream sleep, breathing the unknowable eternal. The man said that faith believes that God cares when there is no sign of it. If God speaks the language of stillness, Spike must learn to hear it. Let go. Open your hands. Hold fast no longer. Let the waves overwhelm and sink down to the quiet that surrounds and fills. The fish has no concept of water. Recognize that you have no concept of God. Let go and sink to the bottom. Rest in strength. Rejoice in peace. Your God surrounds and fills. You cannot find him because you cannot conceive of genuine not-him. In him you live and move and have your being. Your God speaks peace. Peace then. Let go and sink into the unspeakable peace.

1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 (New International Version)

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent upon anyone.

See, Paul can be Zen.

Which Is Advice To Lose Yourself In Being Yourself

04/20/2006 9:43 AM – 10:10 AM

An abiding faith. For all that I bitch about my fundamentalist upbringing, there is that one thing that they gave me. Their methods were crude and cruel, but they are just men, struggling to teach the children in their care to love God. And I do. Of course, only Johnny would be able to remind me of that. So thank you, Johnny. I remembered today. They prepared me for my own path by teaching me to respect the quiet when it came. So, thank you, my imperfect teachers, for teaching me to know the viscosity of quiet.

- and I know a man (whether in the body or apart from the body, I do not know, but God knows) who was caught up to paradise – where the quiet comes from - the body or apart from the body, I do not know – but I know it is there and it abides beneath all things. The wind that does not move but moves all things to rest. And so we lay down arms, and rest. The quiet envelops all. We cannot know all things, but all things are a part of the quiet, when the quiet comes. There is only a moment. This moment. In this moment, which is all moments, the cool shadows of the dawn alight and we find refuge for all moments.

What is there, Spike? What is it that so terrifies you? I tell you to let it go. I tell you to submerge yourself in the quiet. But what good will it do you if you can’t find a way in? I don’t know. I just want to tell you that it’s happened before and it’s happening now. It will happen again. Come back to the cushion, it is your place before the Mercy Seat. Remember? Remember how it feels to lose yourself? In story, in study, in drawing, in an excellent joke? Was my good sit a product of the nice weather? Was it this crappy New Age music that, God bless you, you’re actually listening to? We can hope it wasn’t the last, because your whole street cred would be gone then. That was a joke. The better kind that shows you what you don’t have to carry. Your greatest weaknesses are your greatest strengths. Fuck the rules of a sensible existance. Existance is not sensible. Be fucking Zen. That dog barking outside sounds exactly like a turkey. Somewhere, not far from you, people that have been married a long time and love each other for real, are have the sex. See. This is just this. Let it go. Forget your reputation (you don’t really have one). Forget your fear of death (you have no proven data on what death will bring). If you are not afraid of men or death, what is left for you to fear? Only your own fear of fear. It goes away, you know. Fear slides out of your mind after a while, if you let it go. Hold fast to peace. Hold fast to the quiet. That is enough. You are just human, and the quiet is enough.

The One with the List of Things to Meditate On

04/19/2006 8:03 AM – 8:27 AM

- finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is anything worthy of praise, on these you should meditate – and that’s Paul, and they beat us over the head with it, not realizing that it held the keys to escaping them. God bless ‘em, they’re even more stupid than I.

Your faith is as the idiot’s screams as they walk down Elmwood in the wee small hours. It’s got excellent internal constancy; it just doesn’t apply to anything that actually exists. But that’s half-lie. The truth is that this silly codshell of ego doesn’t know what to make of the thing it holds. Unlike Freud, it cannot shake the belief of its mother. Unlike Lewis, it has no good arguments to give for it. Hey, I’m alive. That’s all it can say. But forget the I. The only way to make it happy is to take away its worry. The only way to take away its worry is to distract it.

Which brings us back to the opening. True, noble, just, pure, lovely, good report, praiseworthy. How much of existence is not any of these things? How much ego should one have? The lesser Suzuki said, “just enough not to step in front of a bus.” Whatsoever things are true, noble, just, pure, lovely, of good report, worthy of praise. How does it all work? How does it all fit together? Can I trust it or will it drop me once I put all my weight on it and set it in motion? There is no I in team. Just one in win. There is no you in team. Just one in fuck. You think it matters? You think you matter to you? You don’t matter to you. Only true, noble, just, pure, lovely, good report, praiseworthy matter to you. You wouldn’t care who ate the apple as long as you got to taste its flavor and use its calories. I want to be happy. And the only word that matters, the only thing in that sentence that describes something desirable is happy. Forget the I. It will soon be dead. Forget the to be. Only now exists. Remember, holdfast, focus, meditate, apprehend – all the Pauline words and a few more – only happy. If you think it’s idiotic, all the better, because only an idiot could.

On Not-Understanding

04/17/2006 7:49 AM - 8:16 AM

A man could go his whole life and learn to grasp the state of peace in all times and all situations, but if he did so, he would forgo enlightenment. Enlightenment is not just peace, it is also not-peace. But what good does not-peace do you?

The desire for peace is a desire. The desire to be good is a desire, and if there is any desire there will also be a counter-desire. Wherever there is hope, it will be deferred, and the heart will become sick. What then do we strive for? If enlightenment is just ordinary mind enlightened, what’s the point? How do you extinguish desire if the desire to extinguish desire must itself be extinguished? Always strive to remove dust from the surface of the mirror. There is no mirror, so why try to keep dust off it? What is the state that I should be striving for? What is enlightenment?

Now, the kingdom of heaven, that’s an easy one. The kingdom of heaven is like unto a pearl, that upon finding it, we sell all to buy, leaving ourselves without food or shelter, starving in the woods. Whoopidy yay. And I have no idea what the kingdom of heaven is like. And I have no idea what enlightenment is like. The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence and the violent take it by force. Blessed are those who suffer for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Wonderful. That clears everything up. Now I know how to live. Now I know what to strive for. Mr. Id is so much happier than I, because Mr. Id does not perceive conflict in his contradictory assertions. It’s also because he’s just a cartoon that I draw. I cannot draw my own life. I cannot pare existence down to its bare essentials, because all of existence is essential. And, oddly, Spike, you’re writing this without worry. Somehow, you are at peace. Zen is sitting, but Zen is also motorcycle maintenance, archery, writing, sex. Any action can have that adjective attached. But it will not be Zen. Do not confuse the finger pointing toward the moon for the moon itself. Bullocks. There is no moon. There is only a finger pointing. I have no idea what I’m talking about, and yet, right now. I’m at peace. At this moment. This very moment. Ah, well… eat, drink, make dirt, pass water, work, sleep. I have no idea how to do it right, but I’m doing it right now.

Which is More Wrestling

04/15/2006 1:10 PM – 1:38 PM

Where are you now? Who are you now? This slides forth and constructs nothing but dreams that will never breathe. You cannot recommend your faith. It is too harsh and stupid. No sensible person should believe anything about it. It’s better to remain silent on the matter. Rather like God.

Why then do you believe? Because you cannot do otherwise. If someone asks you what they should believe, tell them to read the Epicureans or Marcus Aurelius. Their views are much more sensible and justifiable. Why then can’t you say this for yourself? But you don’t know. The most likely candidate for your belief is the constant imposing of the Christian perspective during your childhood. So you should laugh at it. Put away childish things when you become a man (using Paul against Paul). But you can’t do it, can you? Behind everything, you are that disgusting thing – a Believer. Believers fly planes into buildings. Believers burn people at the stake. Believers call your father “faggot” and say that he burns eternally in hell. This is the camp that you find yourself in.

Let it go then. Spit on your belief. Kick your Christ until his face resembles rotting hamburger. But your religion has stolen the best bits from the older and more tolerant (better) religions. Your Savior is a phoenix, rising again, every time you’re sure you’ve trampled out every last weed of this abominable faith. Every time you destroy him, he rises again; more resplendent, beautiful, loving and kind than he was the last time you killed him. How do you flee this beast? How do you escape this horror? You cannot. Find yourself tightly in his grasp and give up. You are captured. Let go. Sink down by the bubbling brook. But this is your stubborn and stupid faith. This belief is your own burden. And you, being you, will get up and fight it again, as soon as you are strong enough to stand. So be it, Spike. So be it. Your zazen has been shit lately, too. You are distracted and squirmy when you sit. So what advice do I have for you? What comfort? Being exhausted, you rest, and, resting, you feel pretty fucking good. Your war with God is pointless. Let it the fuck go. You’re never getting away from Him. Close your eyes and breathe. You’re here. Your Greatest Enemy is your Only Comfort. So be it. I’m laughing at us, Spike. Just let it go. You can’t stop loving Him. You will always fall on this Rock, because this Rock will always fall on you. And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes. Turn your eyes away from me, for they have overcome me. My God, it’s such a beautiful day. You can smell lilacs in the breeze.

Mr. Id in "Sloppy Zen"

Easter Sermon '06

04/13/2006 10:03 AM – 11:02 AM

What is the sermon that you preach to yourself today? What hope do you give yourself in the face of a silent heaven and possible hell? Acknowledge it. You are afraid. But what good does fear do you? You cannot know. Perhaps that faith that you believe in is true. Perhaps it is false. You cannot know. So where is your hope? So where is your peace?

And there it is, in this stupid, stupid belief – Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, “Peace unto you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Reach your fingers here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.” And Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Thomas, because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” – blessed? How am I blessed? I can’t stop believing in a God that doesn’t acknowledge my belief – And truly Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples – but there are no signs for me.

Where are your signs, oh Christian? Where are your wonders? Where your miracles, your healings? Where is your Lazarus that you can point to him and say, “Look! My God has raised him from the dead! There is my proof! There is the reason for my faith!” There is no Lazarus for you. There is no proof. There is only an equal measure of hope and fear. You can’t even prove otherwise. You can’t even say, “This religion is useless! I hereby renounce my faith!” You’re too afraid of hell and too in love with heaven. Face up to it. Face up to the utter simplistic stupidity of your faith. Face up to the anguish that it puts you through. And face up to the fact that, despite the better arguments to the contrary, you still cannot stop believing. And what then do you do? You sit, oh worrying Spike. You sit and you pray. Save me, oh God. Save me from myself. Lord, I believe. Help now my unbelief. And having prayed, sit and forget your fear, sit and remember Now. Without fear. Without hope. Fall. Fall down hard on the Rock of existence, shatter into a thousand pieces, and let the Wind carry you away. Your faith is absurd. But so is your existence. Let go. Let go. Breathe, pluck the strawberry from the vine, put it in your mouth, and crush it between your teeth. Taste how sweet it is. That is all there is for you. That is your one commandment, child. Taste, with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, taste and see - my Lord and my God - He is good.

The One With the Funny Story About Diogenes

04/12/2006 7:46 AM – 8:11 AM

And I, Spike, a friend of a friend of a Friendster, send greetings to you who are now Spike. And what are you doing who now dwell in the body that I dwell in now? If somehow this epistle survives all the way into the next few hours when you are standing at your desk at work, “Hi.”

There is a story about Diogenes that I think you should remember. When asked what he did to avoid the temptations of lust, he immediately pulled up his robe and started masturbating. The crowd was, of course, shocked and disgusted. Then Diogenes turned to them and said, “would that my stomach could be satiated by merely stroking it.” Why did I wish you to remember this? Because it’s pretty damn funny. It’s also true. Maybe even Truth. No. Probably not. Has the dog a Buddha spirit? Mu. Has the dog-like? Mu. And, of course, it is contrary to everything you believe to say, “mu” to this. Mu.

And there is that breeze again, blowing in from the river. Full of rain and cool warmth. Who are you now? And can you let go of it to be what you are now? Now? Now? Be better. Be worse. Be what this this is. And the kingdom of heaven is like unto a pearl. And the kingdom of heaven is like unto a pirate’s treasure, hidden in a field. And the kingdom of heaven is like unto a seed. Do you know what this means? Do you understand? Just let it go. Throw your bread upon the water. Was your zazen sloppy and your focus weak? Notice. That is all. Let it go. Forget your forgetting and come back to peace. Where is your ambition? What do you desire? Desire that thing that is sitting in your hand. Notice. That is all. Each moment is perfect. Each moment is shit. Doesn’t matter. Your greatest ambition was to be a man with no great ambition. Does the soul cease to exist while the body decays in anticipation of resurrection? Where were you when he set the universe in motion? Where were you when he rolled back the foundations of the deep? You were always in his hand. His hand has never held you. You are. Right this second. So let it go. There is the breeze again. There it is. Blowing the dust from the room. Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Don’t worry. You’re just yourself. Let it go and get back to being.

Mostly About Peace

04/11/2006 7:06 AM – 7:36 AM

-But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our Peace- and this is what Zen can teach the Christian. I, Spike, worrying about money, am a very small thing. But I am, at the same time, a very large thing. I am less than a speck in the universe and yet I contain the purpose of the whole of the universe within me –the fullness of Him who fills all in all-

I am myself. I am not my own, but I am my own, having been bought with a price. To affirm a statement is to affirm its negation. It’s not true, of course, it is that incomprehensible and useless thing. But we stand up and sit down. We rise and we lay down. There is a time to kill and there is a time to heal. Forget yourself. Forget the weight of your life. Realize the full impossibility of managing your existence and laugh at it. It’s just this. This now. This. This. The sun is coming up over Elmwood strip. People are walking down the sidewalks. It’s cold, but not bitterly so. Remember again that the difference between an apartment in the city and a strong cottage in the country is the bitterness that you choose to cling to. It all is. This is just this.

Are you thinking about your age? Did you taste the terror of death again? So did I. Then you get up, drink your coffee with a merry heart, and walk back into the underlying tranquility. This or this. It doesn’t matter. It’s all this. Did you imagine again the horrors of damnation? Can you know which path to choose? No? Then let it go. This is just this. We weren’t given knowledge. Just hope. Just faith the size of a mustard seed, covered by the dust and debris of daily existence. So let it be buried. Let it go unseen for a while. And hope that it will grow. Let everything go. Even your faith. No matter how you imagine it, it will be wrong by virtue of its incomplete perspective. It will be right by that same virtue. So your heart is beating faster, so your mind is whirling in darkness. Just let it go. Take your hands off the wheel and let being be. We can only be what we are at this very second. This very now. Now. Now. Let it go, kid. Let it go. Now, pick it up and start again. Put the pack on your back and start walking. All the world is contained in your room. In your hands. In your wholeheart. So pick it up and let it go. We exist. That’s all that we can know, and we can’t even know that. Why not let it be peace? All this is just all this. We are. We are not. –But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law- there is, therefore, now, no condemnation. Be here now. Be at peace. Against peace, there is no law.

Spike's Id - Something for Begallman

Spike's Id - something for Woods

On the Natural Zendo of the Dino.

04/02/2006 11:38 AM - 12:01 PM

Every now and then, the universe conspires to produce Dean Martin. He doesn’t always go by the name “Dean Martin,” but there he is, sitting in a chair, eating his bread with joy, drinking his wine with a merry heart, wearing his white linen suit, his head lacking no oil. And Koholeth is finally at peace. Behind it all, the First Cause laughs and we find ourselves in our own natural state.

Existence has the option of being a permanent, paid vacation. Or a mountain climb (the mountain climbs the mountain). It’s just there. It is itself, without permission, without regret. All our sins forgiven as if they never were. They never were. When we dance, it’s like the blue of the moon, singing warm breezes to the corn in clean August. It doesn’t matter, it’s just aliving. Where is your spark now? Where did it go when the dust returned to its resting state? But where did it come from in the first place? Do you see? Do you get it? It’s just itself. Our eyes are located on the front of our heads, we are excellent at judging distances, but we can’t see as far at the eagle or as much area as the antelope. We’re just ourselves. You are just yourself. Sink down into the warmth of recognizing your limit and see that it is no sin.

Go on then, go back to the toys you forgot about when you learned the weight of it. There is no weight. It’s you that weigh the thing. If it’s too heavy, stop giving it it’s weight. If it’s too light, see it’s heavier. There is no life that is not epic. There is no tragic epic that isn’t inherently funny. Just make sure that you save the giggles ‘til you’re at home. Some folks haven’t gotten the joke yet. Give ‘em time. Eventually, we all sink down to our natural state – calm seaweed in a warm ocean. Remember yourself, then let him go. Close your eyes and sink into the long, warm summer day. Just let it go and float away. You’re here. All experiences are part of your internal strata. Two years from now is already there. The waves wash in, depositing the fermata on the wet sand. The tide turns. The earth dries. We are left with what we always were. The tabula is rasa. Forget it. Doesn’t matter. It’s just the kiss of the girl. It doesn’t matter, because it’s all-essential. Standin’ on a corner, watchin’ all the girls, watchin’ all the girls, watchin’ all the girls go by.