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A PEELING    "Be totally MAD!"   "This neglected, exiled animal..."  "...run naked..."  "notes to the beloved"         January 6, 2019

1/6/2019

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‘YESTERDAY’ VERY STRANGE….
…LIKE A NON-STOP COLLISION
OF
QUANTUM DIMENSIONS HAPPENING…
A PEELING OF SORTS…*
< 
…AND NOW THIS MORNING…
 ALL IS SETTLING SEEMINGLY BRAND NEW…
BUT REALLY IS SOULAND’S**
MORE PURELY ANCIENT CORE TRUTH

ew
2:50 AM-1/6/19

* "i want to surrender to your silence which peels me."
“I have nothing to offer you, but this touch, where I Disappear.”

Arif K
https://www.poetseers.org/submissions/2006-2/arif-k/index.html
See Arif Category on OceanSpeak Column to right of page
 

**Ram Dass
See Ram Dass Category on OceanSpeak Column to right of page
i want to surrender to your silence which peels me.
I have nothing to offer you, but this touch, where I Disappear.

Arif K

https://www.poetseers.org/submissions/2006-2/arif-k/index.html
ALSO:

https://dorotheamills.weebly.com/oceanspeak-youthanasia-sanctarii/ah-the-peeling-surrender-again-milestone-sunriseafternoon-january-25-2017
&

​If you google for the whole quote + the word OceanSpeak...the links will appear...
The Freedom of Madness
A man needs a healthy dose of madness,
else he will never do anything great, anything new, anything real.
If you want to be truly alive and truly free you must be mad.
It is the mad ones who find the treasure.
It is only the mad ones who are daring enough to break free.
It is the mad ones who have all the fun.
You must be utterly mad
Mad to dance, laugh, and cry
Mad to live and mad to die
Mad to be oneself,
And mad enough to lose oneself.
​Mad enough to risk everything for freedom, for truth, for the heart, for love.
Mad enough to lose all respectability if it means staying true to life and to oneself.
Mad enough to go to the depths of Hell and find therein Heaven.
Mad enough to go into insanity if need be to discover true sanity.
Be totally MAD!
Let people feel that you are dangerous, crazy, and weird.
Let them fear you and admire you even as they fear you.

Your madness will protect you from being chained 
​ and also from the chains of being understood.
​
Let them be afraid to get too close –
lest their excuses and illusions are destroyed by your fire.

Lest the fire spreads to them and they catch your madness also.
Revel in your madness.
​
Run naked through the streets shouting wildy
Learn to love your madness, your primordial chaos.
Dare to be ecstatic, dare to be untamed.
Go crazy, and not just a little. Go all the way.
Be The Madman

https://artofwonder.org/2018/01/04/the-madman/
True Identity cannot be lost.
No matter how many masks you wear
the unique face underneath cannot be lost.
It cannot be lost, but it can be forgotten.
The I cannot be lost, but it can be blinded.

To find it again is only to remember
that which you already knew.

It is the remembrance of your true identity.
The search is for ones true identity.
For who you ultimately are,
and what is your essential source.
To know through and through
the essence of your being.
And to live that,
​ to express that in the world
.

https://artofwonder.org/2018/03/25/true-identity/​
We can hardly bear to look.
The shadow may carry the best of the life we have not lived.
Go into the basement, the attic, the refuse bin.
Find gold there.
Find an animal who has not been fed or watered.
It is you.
This neglected, exiled animal,
​ hungry for attention,
is a part of your self.

~Marion Woodman
https://makebelieveboutique.com/2019/01/05/28750/
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The Daily Lesson – January 6, 2019
“I in the midst of me is the spiritual son of God, the Christ,
Melchizedek—He who was never born,
who will never die,
and who is and always will be invisible.

I am the invisible Presence within me.
I am the invisible Presence which goes before me to make the way clear;
I am the invisible presence which walks beside me as protection.
I am the invisible Presence which follows after me as a rear guard.”

~Joel S Goldsmith
A PARENTHESIS IN ETERNITY

www.iwso.org/thedailylesson.htm
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​AFTERNOON
This color font below - excerpts from Arif K's full poem 
Notes to The Beloved

https://www.poetseers.org/submissions/2006-2/arif-k/index.html
​

Full Poem in READ MORE
below Afternoon Photos
the softness of friendship
melts into relationship
with the divine who beholds the inside
of a rose, spiraling through your eyes
& the silence which proceeds your beholding
gives plasticity to objects, to hate;
what does it mean to gaze in the mirror
of the true friend? to hold ones own
inmost gaze in the fire of mutual longing
for the divine.
to rise
in seizing the kinetic God
& be stilled as possibilities
are felt in the vibrancy between
words which is the vibrancy of the heart
forged in a common
longing.
Picture
 we can at last
say we know the form of silence, that silence doesn’t brood
is not a premonition as it is a lisping of a name,
the name we lost in fear when we over & over built
a graveyard for yearning, with steel brackets. this foundation
moves like air & you are not far from letting these bricks fall
because you loved & let the structure fall.
Picture
in you, the eye, cleared of confusion
the eye, clarified in the heart
in you, deception dispelled
in you, morality, a stepping stone.
zeal has become clarified
& value is seized.
Picture
when the heart is opened by the beloved,
​ or when the fingers trace the heart;
there are lives within lives opening like russian dolls. 
​
Picture
i walk a spiral in your heart
and two moons are fused in one, a crescent and a pearl.
i am a fisherman and you are blue.
Picture
i have no thing to offer you,
​ but this touch, where i disappear.
Picture
you gaze though me at yourself.
Picture
you are above the bed post hovering
like angels above a cardinal’s bed of soot and sear, pristine,
Picture
i want to surrender to your silence which peels me.
- Arif K
Excerpts from
  • https://www.poetseers.org/submissions/2006-2/arif-k/index.html
Picture
Picture
See Read More Below for Full 
Sharing
notes to the beloved - Arif K
Picture
December 1, 2014
​notes to the beloved
by Arif K
​

the softness of friendship
melts into relationship
with the divine who beholds the inside
of a rose, spiraling through your eyes
& the silence which proceeds your beholding
gives plasticity to objects, to hate;
makes judgment melt in true friendship;
makes the knot in the heart unravel
& i wish to sense with the organ
of your art.
what does it mean to gaze in the mirror
of the true friend? to hold ones own
inmost gaze in the fire of mutual longing
for the divine. to rise
in seizing the kinetic God
& be stilled as possibilities
are felt in the vibrancy between
words which is the vibrancy of the heart
forged in a common
longing.
to yield to the beloved
who is near;
to be restored
to the heart’s law
is to expose the broken
fragments of the self as they sift
together in a common purpose
without devising a means to say
this or that is common, but common
ground unfolds as the fragments of a life
are scattered on an empty road
is where lightning strikes the final sense
of knowing where we are
going, if only to build a roof with tiles
of these fragments, each with a word that says
you are all this; i don’t know you
as  you could be, or as i would like you to be
a roof is being
built from the aftermath
this over and over again building, a foundation
that caves in, the moment it is erected, & the clacking
branches scrape the roof & we are a tree upside down
bending backwards as though to reach each other before
we apprehend what we are reaching, the swallows forked
in thirds by the pond
& who will ever know what is meant in darkness
when roots are stopped by this kinetic response of air,
the air a tressel, which leaves a sense of knowing. we can at last
say we know the form of silence, that silence doesn’t brood
is not a premonition as it is a lisping of a name,
the name we lost in fear when we over & over built
a graveyard for yearning, with steel brackets. this foundation
moves like air & you are not far from letting these bricks fall
because you loved & let the structure fall.
in you, the eye, cleared of confusion
the eye, clarified in the heart
in you, deception dispelled
in you, morality, a stepping stone.
zeal has become clarified
& value is seized.
by you blessed, this eye
from which fish emerge on a pier
a star merged with a full moon &
a tower was illumined;
we fell into water & reemerged when the sky
darkened again; i climbed up the steps of my ancestry
& now this heartbeat in stone,
waiting to be touched by your hourglass.
when the heart is opened by the beloved, or when the fingers trace the heart;
there are lives within lives opening like russian dolls. occasionally, one catches
the fragrance of a distant rose, spiraled inward,
was the kernel Ramakrishna.
i found this way as stillness, inter
penetrating the physical, the physical
interpenetrating stillness.
the body infinitely stilled as it attempted to move
stillness, moving, as it remained free
in the light
of her devotion
whatever happens.
is the opening to read what has be encrypted in this body,
buried.
a message in a djinnless bottle.
that we held & feared.
to read. because we were numb.
with the sense of a life past.
& the wound of love will not heal.
& the heel is split by Achilles’ arrow.
& longing is an arrow splicing the air.
& the soul will rain down on our heels.
we read what is always being lost
is gained by the heart which forgives.
there is no falling.
heat will not make this hour.
the flowers skinned alive, petal by petal
fall on etched glass, where pain is malleable
and moving. the spinning center of your body,
still like a humming bird,
as the hourglass spins and this red festival
of fire falls, shorn from a distant memory. You do not
spin, and you have not spun; you are spinning
& i walk through
stillness like a knife.
I can be absent, neither do I spin, nor have I spun;
the arm curved up like a bow bend
with palm down turned to the earth & we are weaving
each other’s gravity.
when the beloved gazes though the lover’s eyes
what is blue and brown, but the symmetry of her hour
where colors melt in eyes touching, and invisible hands made
visible in muteness. i walk a spiral in your heart
and two moons are fused in one, a crescent and a pearl.
i am a fisherman and you are blue. i have no
thing to offer you, but this touch, where i disappear.
you gaze though me at yourself.
you are always only blue. i am brown like the earth
swathed in your sky blue utterance.


               you are cosmos whirling wide
sea breezes on the turf of the tide rise up
like innumerable hands. Breezes bust the waves
and the space between your lips open and
      the cedars rowed in the air,
your soul hovered above the glen, a gleaning
of who you once were,
and shall become when time is set in motion again.
      you are above the bed post hovering
like angels above a cardinal’s bed of soot and sear, pristine,
i want to surrender to your silence which peels me.
- Arif K
(These are poems I wrote to the eternal beloved: heart-Chinmoy, Chinmoy-heart)
  • Notes To The Beloved
    • ​
  • https://www.poetseers.org/submissions/2006-2/arif-k/index.html
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July 19, 2015
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