AH!
UNBIDDEN….
THE BREATH THAT BREATHES ALL
PRESIDES
∞
THE DANCE OF CREATION
ALPHA-OMEGA & BEYOND
ew
2:10 AM-2/7/17
THIRTY YEARS AGO TODAY
February 7, 1987
FIRST SET FOOT ON THIS ISLAND
UNBIDDEN….
THE BREATH THAT BREATHES ALL
PRESIDES
∞
THE DANCE OF CREATION
ALPHA-OMEGA & BEYOND
ew
2:10 AM-2/7/17
THIRTY YEARS AGO TODAY
February 7, 1987
FIRST SET FOOT ON THIS ISLAND
AS COSMIC GRACE ERASES ALL AKASHA
OF DEATH & DISEASE
SO DOES IT ERASE
ALL HUMAN ELEMENTALS
∞
A NO BRAINER
BEYOND AWARENESS REVELATION
ew
7:29 AM - 2/7/2017
(just after sunrise)
OF DEATH & DISEASE
SO DOES IT ERASE
ALL HUMAN ELEMENTALS
∞
A NO BRAINER
BEYOND AWARENESS REVELATION
ew
7:29 AM - 2/7/2017
(just after sunrise)
I set out to the wild lands, to the forests,
and the sea, and found myself looking for a way
to forget all I had been helplessly bequeathed,
and to remember instead all that had been left out.
Jack Haas
IN AND OF-memoirs of a mystic journey
All quotes below in blue & gold color font are from Jack Haas
See Read More - at end of afternoon photos
and the sea, and found myself looking for a way
to forget all I had been helplessly bequeathed,
and to remember instead all that had been left out.
Jack Haas
IN AND OF-memoirs of a mystic journey
All quotes below in blue & gold color font are from Jack Haas
See Read More - at end of afternoon photos
To blend in and become one with the majesty of nature,
is not only to know the peace and beauty of these colossal wonders,
but also to become that very peace and beauty itself,
and therefore to recognize from a different perspective
the horrors of mankind’s rapacity.
It is to be sucked into the belly of a wonderful whale
and then be spat out in Nineveh
with no desire to do what you cannot avoid doing.
Which is to say, I had come, over time,
to certain essential, troubling realizations,
and I could no longer hide the pain from myself,
and my pain was the world’s pain,
and so I could no longer hide the world from itself.
is not only to know the peace and beauty of these colossal wonders,
but also to become that very peace and beauty itself,
and therefore to recognize from a different perspective
the horrors of mankind’s rapacity.
It is to be sucked into the belly of a wonderful whale
and then be spat out in Nineveh
with no desire to do what you cannot avoid doing.
Which is to say, I had come, over time,
to certain essential, troubling realizations,
and I could no longer hide the pain from myself,
and my pain was the world’s pain,
and so I could no longer hide the world from itself.
I had no real understanding of what the word ‘ugly’ meant
until the first time I spent a couple of months
in the towering forests of the west coast wilds,
and then returned quickly to the land of pavement,
square structures, signs, lights, idiotic haircuts,
automobiles, cosmetics, and functionless clothing.
Never have I forgotten the shock which these unsightly creations
betrayed to my virginal sight.
How my eye became so weary and sore all of the sudden,
just standing on a city street,
or sitting in a house,
no matter how superlatively decorated.
What a wound it became to my very soul
to spend day after day immersed in such
visual and psychic excrement.
until the first time I spent a couple of months
in the towering forests of the west coast wilds,
and then returned quickly to the land of pavement,
square structures, signs, lights, idiotic haircuts,
automobiles, cosmetics, and functionless clothing.
Never have I forgotten the shock which these unsightly creations
betrayed to my virginal sight.
How my eye became so weary and sore all of the sudden,
just standing on a city street,
or sitting in a house,
no matter how superlatively decorated.
What a wound it became to my very soul
to spend day after day immersed in such
visual and psychic excrement.
I realized then that the natural glories and miracles
which the earth has brought forth cannot help but make mankind’s constructions
appear like the finger paintings of blind, insecure brats.
I wonder if this is why we have been so eager to rid ourselves of the earth’s great treasures
- the forests and the beasts-
because these make us feel so little,
so unimpressive,
so dumb.
which the earth has brought forth cannot help but make mankind’s constructions
appear like the finger paintings of blind, insecure brats.
I wonder if this is why we have been so eager to rid ourselves of the earth’s great treasures
- the forests and the beasts-
because these make us feel so little,
so unimpressive,
so dumb.
It was in these places, where the mighty trees meet the pounding surf,
that I held communion with the land and spirits therein,
with the unique individuals who willfully populate these remote and untamed places,
with God, and, most importantly ...with myself.
Were it not for these stretches of awe-inspiring, deserted, primordial wilderness,
untainted nor scarred by the likes of men,
I would surely have passed from this earth long ago.
that I held communion with the land and spirits therein,
with the unique individuals who willfully populate these remote and untamed places,
with God, and, most importantly ...with myself.
Were it not for these stretches of awe-inspiring, deserted, primordial wilderness,
untainted nor scarred by the likes of men,
I would surely have passed from this earth long ago.
Were it not for the sweeping cedars, the awkward croon of the ravens,
the peace of the eagle, the untamable spirit of the bear,
and the freedom and abundance which is a gift of the sea,
I would have gone crazy amongst a society for which I had grown sour early in life,
and for which I held little need, little respect, and little expectation.
the peace of the eagle, the untamable spirit of the bear,
and the freedom and abundance which is a gift of the sea,
I would have gone crazy amongst a society for which I had grown sour early in life,
and for which I held little need, little respect, and little expectation.
Youngest son...Justin....Far North end of Harbour Island Beach March 2006
And so the grand and virgin cedar forests and wild coast of British Columbia,
dotted with softly tinted islands running out forever in the mist of the setting sun,
would bring me to a voiceless, lonely rapture and open me up like a vacuum,
sucking all of mankind’s dross and memory from my core,
for it was on this part of the great orb, amongst the magnificent forests,
the crashing surf,
and the unknowable wildness of it all,
that I had become intoxicated with the earth.
dotted with softly tinted islands running out forever in the mist of the setting sun,
would bring me to a voiceless, lonely rapture and open me up like a vacuum,
sucking all of mankind’s dross and memory from my core,
for it was on this part of the great orb, amongst the magnificent forests,
the crashing surf,
and the unknowable wildness of it all,
that I had become intoxicated with the earth.
Far South End Harbour Island March 2006
I have never known such uncluttered beauty as exists out there on the coast.
It must be how the soft light mingles up from the ocean and onto each successive island, until the sky is reached,
and the panorama sits like a shifting water color of gentle hues
composed of no color the mind can capture,
for it is not a color,
it is a feel.
It must be how the soft light mingles up from the ocean and onto each successive island, until the sky is reached,
and the panorama sits like a shifting water color of gentle hues
composed of no color the mind can capture,
for it is not a color,
it is a feel.
The word “Shiva” literally means “that which is not”.
The basis of existence and the fundamental quality of the cosmos is vast nothingness.
The galaxies are just a tiny sprinkling, but the rest is all dark empty space.
This is referred to as Shiva:
the womb from which everything is born
and the oblivion into which everything is sucked back.
And so, Shiva is described not as a being, but a non-being.
Sadhguru
from EXCELLENT article/synopsis here:
http://beta.sadhguru.org/mahashivratri/adiyogi/?utm_source=mailchimp&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=dmq-blog
See Read More Below
for
additional Jack Haas writing
and websites...
The basis of existence and the fundamental quality of the cosmos is vast nothingness.
The galaxies are just a tiny sprinkling, but the rest is all dark empty space.
This is referred to as Shiva:
the womb from which everything is born
and the oblivion into which everything is sucked back.
And so, Shiva is described not as a being, but a non-being.
Sadhguru
from EXCELLENT article/synopsis here:
http://beta.sadhguru.org/mahashivratri/adiyogi/?utm_source=mailchimp&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=dmq-blog
See Read More Below
for
additional Jack Haas writing
and websites...
Jack Haas Creations
January 6 ·
https://www.facebook.com/jackhaasofficial/
Chapter 4, from IN AND OF-memoirs of a mytic journey
Jack Haas
I can say now, with absolute honesty, that I did not learn a single worthwhile thing about life and living until I left school.
Not one.
Not unless you include the brief course I took in typing, and the one-week canoe trip I went on in a highschool outdoor-ed class, which was a singularly life-altering episode because it showed me that what I had been experiencing as a youth and young man, and calling life, had nothing to do with life at all--
-- not compared to the beauty and silence I experienced on that trip
into the austere comfort of the northern Ontario lakes,
with the lonely call of the loon,
and the feel of the breeze on my face as I was falling asleep outside.
I consider it an insult to my existence that I don’t even recall seeing a single moon-shadow until I was twenty-two years old- and I know the exact time I saw it because I remember being shocked that I had a shadow at night, and I could not believe the moon was its cause. Not that I hadn’t seen shadows at night. Oh no, every porch and every street corner in my neighborhood had a blaring light on it, making certain old Luna never got to sing her song.
That canoe trip was the beginning of the end for me, for it was then that I had begun my romance with the wilds. I had fallen in love with the earth, and it would not be long before I gave myself to that love, left humanity behind, learned to own nothing but what fit into a backpack, to care for nothing but to sit on a remote cliff and stare out to sea, and to wish for nothing but that a few other kindred souls were there beside me.
I set out to the wild lands, to the forests,
and the sea, and found myself looking for a way
to forget all I had been helplessly bequeathed,
and to remember instead all that had been left out.
January 6 ·
https://www.facebook.com/jackhaasofficial/
Chapter 4, from IN AND OF-memoirs of a mytic journey
Jack Haas
I can say now, with absolute honesty, that I did not learn a single worthwhile thing about life and living until I left school.
Not one.
Not unless you include the brief course I took in typing, and the one-week canoe trip I went on in a highschool outdoor-ed class, which was a singularly life-altering episode because it showed me that what I had been experiencing as a youth and young man, and calling life, had nothing to do with life at all--
-- not compared to the beauty and silence I experienced on that trip
into the austere comfort of the northern Ontario lakes,
with the lonely call of the loon,
and the feel of the breeze on my face as I was falling asleep outside.
I consider it an insult to my existence that I don’t even recall seeing a single moon-shadow until I was twenty-two years old- and I know the exact time I saw it because I remember being shocked that I had a shadow at night, and I could not believe the moon was its cause. Not that I hadn’t seen shadows at night. Oh no, every porch and every street corner in my neighborhood had a blaring light on it, making certain old Luna never got to sing her song.
That canoe trip was the beginning of the end for me, for it was then that I had begun my romance with the wilds. I had fallen in love with the earth, and it would not be long before I gave myself to that love, left humanity behind, learned to own nothing but what fit into a backpack, to care for nothing but to sit on a remote cliff and stare out to sea, and to wish for nothing but that a few other kindred souls were there beside me.
I set out to the wild lands, to the forests,
and the sea, and found myself looking for a way
to forget all I had been helplessly bequeathed,
and to remember instead all that had been left out.
I had no real understanding of what the word ‘ugly’ meant
until the first time I spent a couple of months
in the towering forests of the west coast wilds,
and then returned quickly to the land of pavement,
square structures, signs, lights, idiotic haircuts,
automobiles, cosmetics, and functionless clothing.
Never have I forgotten the shock which these unsightly creations
betrayed to my virginal sight.
How my eye became so weary and sore all of the sudden,
just standing on a city street,
or sitting in a house,
no matter how superlatively decorated.
What a wound it became to my very soul
to spend day after day immersed in such
visual and psychic excrement.
I realized then that the natural glories and miracles
which the earth has brought forth cannot help but make mankind’s constructions
appear like the finger paintings of blind, insecure brats.
I wonder if this is why we have been so eager to rid ourselves of the earth’s great treasures
- the forests and the beasts-
because these make us feel so little,
so unimpressive,
so dumb.
That trip to the true west-coast wilderness had put a black mark on my mind, for I now had a vision of what had existed before electricity, metal, and internal combustion engines. My prize city, Vancouver, had suddenly become a sewer, and I was now swimming in shit and quickly losing the strength to tread water, though tread it I did for many years to come as I slowly learned how to live as a free person in an imprisoned world.
My life on the coast would become a series of comings and goings- a migration of sorts, from the cancerous cosmopolitan clime, to the verdant lands full of sustenance and hope. I went out, time and again, to sift away the ore and try to find the living gold scattered thinly within the limitless dross. My peregrinations most often sprang from the hub of my movements, Vancouver, and widened out, covering from Northern California, up along the west coast of Vancouver Island, to the Queen Charlotte Islands, and into the Alaskan panhandle. It was in these places, where the mighty trees meet the pounding surf, that I held communion with the land and spirits therein, with the unique individuals who willfully populate these remote and untamed places, with God, and, most importantly ...with myself.
Were it not for these stretches of awe-inspiring, deserted, primordial wilderness,
untainted nor scarred by the likes of men,
I would surely have passed from this earth long ago.
Were it not for the sweeping cedars, the awkward croon of the ravens, the peace of the eagle, the untamable spirit of the bear, and the freedom and abundance which is a gift of the sea, I would have gone crazy amongst a society for which I had grown sour early in life, and for which I held little need, little respect, and little expectation.
To wander amongst the great forests of the Pacific Northwest- or what little is left of them- is to live and grow under the glorious canopies of ancient hemlocks, towering Sitka spruces, and gigantic redwoods; it is to have the existences of these titanic organisms implanted within your very being, so that you become like a grafted branch, no longer yourself only, but a part of the land as well. And so to return to civilization is to be like a voyager from a forgotten world, containing the old vision and the new curse for mankind.
To blend in and become one with the majesty of nature, is not only to know the peace and beauty of these colossal wonders, but also to become that very peace and beauty itself, and therefore to recognize from a different perspective the horrors of mankind’s rapacity. It is to be sucked into the belly of a wonderful whale and then be spat out in Nineveh with no desire to do what you cannot avoid doing.
Which is to say, I had come, over time, to certain essential, troubling realizations, and I could no longer hide the pain from myself, and my pain was the world’s pain, and so I could no longer hide the world from itself.
And when that happens, let me tell you, the world will take up arms against you, because you did not, or could not, lie its lie, and you now cannot help but expose its worst repressions to itself, and that means you are a monster, or worse …a man.
And so it came to be a regular pattern of my existence that I would live for a while within the structure, lights, noise, distractions, and trapped souls of civilization, and would fill my pockets with cash enough for my next journey, and then, upon reaching my breaking point, I would realize that to stay there any longer would lead only to despair or the madhouse, and so I would break free again from the troubles, ideas, creations, and pathos of the world, and would wander up the coast somewhere, to sit in the forest or by the sea, and to lick my wounds and weep the whole damned jumble away.
The problem was not that I was inhuman and did not belong, but that I was too human.
Too much pain, too much wonder, too much love, loss and sorrow.
Too bloody much.
In the center of it all I came to be ripped in two
by the intimacy and separation I could not explain to others
but with a stoic laugh and an accepting sigh.
This period of wandering and isolation did not come about because I had stopped caring for my friends and family. On the contrary, I cared very much, and yet there was a gnawing ache inside of me from which I could not get away, something which spoke in a voice I could barely hear, but which said something like, “If you really cared about them, or about yourself for that matter, you would forget life as it has been presented to you, and get to the bottom of the whole gory mess of it.”
Ah yes, what a mess indeed. I couldn’t continue to exist without finding out why life on this marvelous earth had become so disagreeable, because I can tell you I didn’t have a single answer, and I could sense that no one else around me did either, regardless of how confidently they walked through their illusionary lives.
So I left my home and familiars like an Apache scout who sees the coming winter and the barren fields, sees the impending starvation and suffering, and wanders off to other lands in an attempt to find another place where food and shelter are plenty so as to later return for his tribe, that they might survive the long and merciless season.
And for that I became a lost and hungry man, wandering about in an empty wildland and not even knowing how to get home.
Yet it was there that I received the insights and inspirations which become possible only from taking a step away from the corporeal panoply and societal encumbrances which consume and debilitate body, mind and soul in the most subtle ways, such that one might not even feel themselves being overwhelmed until all clarity and repose are gone and no memory left of their absence. And that is an irreconcilable absence, which is why it was only at a removed distance that I could begin to understand the true nature of existence and my consecrated part within it.
And so the grand and virgin cedar forests and wild coast of British Columbia, dotted with softly tinted islands running out forever in the mist of the setting sun, would bring me to a voiceless, lonely rapture and open me up like a vacuum, sucking all of mankind’s dross and memory from my core, for it was on this part of the great orb, amongst the magnificent forests, the crashing surf, and the unknowable wildness of it all, that I had become intoxicated with the earth.
I have never known such uncluttered beauty as exists out there on the coast. It must be how the soft light mingles up from the ocean and onto each successive island, until the sky is reached, and the panorama sits like a shifting water color of gentle hues composed of no color the mind can capture, for it is not a color, it is a feel.
Jack Haas Creations
January 6 ·
https://www.facebook.com/jackhaasofficial/
Chapter 4, from IN AND OF-memoirs of a mytic journey
http://www.jackhaas.net/books.htm
until the first time I spent a couple of months
in the towering forests of the west coast wilds,
and then returned quickly to the land of pavement,
square structures, signs, lights, idiotic haircuts,
automobiles, cosmetics, and functionless clothing.
Never have I forgotten the shock which these unsightly creations
betrayed to my virginal sight.
How my eye became so weary and sore all of the sudden,
just standing on a city street,
or sitting in a house,
no matter how superlatively decorated.
What a wound it became to my very soul
to spend day after day immersed in such
visual and psychic excrement.
I realized then that the natural glories and miracles
which the earth has brought forth cannot help but make mankind’s constructions
appear like the finger paintings of blind, insecure brats.
I wonder if this is why we have been so eager to rid ourselves of the earth’s great treasures
- the forests and the beasts-
because these make us feel so little,
so unimpressive,
so dumb.
That trip to the true west-coast wilderness had put a black mark on my mind, for I now had a vision of what had existed before electricity, metal, and internal combustion engines. My prize city, Vancouver, had suddenly become a sewer, and I was now swimming in shit and quickly losing the strength to tread water, though tread it I did for many years to come as I slowly learned how to live as a free person in an imprisoned world.
My life on the coast would become a series of comings and goings- a migration of sorts, from the cancerous cosmopolitan clime, to the verdant lands full of sustenance and hope. I went out, time and again, to sift away the ore and try to find the living gold scattered thinly within the limitless dross. My peregrinations most often sprang from the hub of my movements, Vancouver, and widened out, covering from Northern California, up along the west coast of Vancouver Island, to the Queen Charlotte Islands, and into the Alaskan panhandle. It was in these places, where the mighty trees meet the pounding surf, that I held communion with the land and spirits therein, with the unique individuals who willfully populate these remote and untamed places, with God, and, most importantly ...with myself.
Were it not for these stretches of awe-inspiring, deserted, primordial wilderness,
untainted nor scarred by the likes of men,
I would surely have passed from this earth long ago.
Were it not for the sweeping cedars, the awkward croon of the ravens, the peace of the eagle, the untamable spirit of the bear, and the freedom and abundance which is a gift of the sea, I would have gone crazy amongst a society for which I had grown sour early in life, and for which I held little need, little respect, and little expectation.
To wander amongst the great forests of the Pacific Northwest- or what little is left of them- is to live and grow under the glorious canopies of ancient hemlocks, towering Sitka spruces, and gigantic redwoods; it is to have the existences of these titanic organisms implanted within your very being, so that you become like a grafted branch, no longer yourself only, but a part of the land as well. And so to return to civilization is to be like a voyager from a forgotten world, containing the old vision and the new curse for mankind.
To blend in and become one with the majesty of nature, is not only to know the peace and beauty of these colossal wonders, but also to become that very peace and beauty itself, and therefore to recognize from a different perspective the horrors of mankind’s rapacity. It is to be sucked into the belly of a wonderful whale and then be spat out in Nineveh with no desire to do what you cannot avoid doing.
Which is to say, I had come, over time, to certain essential, troubling realizations, and I could no longer hide the pain from myself, and my pain was the world’s pain, and so I could no longer hide the world from itself.
And when that happens, let me tell you, the world will take up arms against you, because you did not, or could not, lie its lie, and you now cannot help but expose its worst repressions to itself, and that means you are a monster, or worse …a man.
And so it came to be a regular pattern of my existence that I would live for a while within the structure, lights, noise, distractions, and trapped souls of civilization, and would fill my pockets with cash enough for my next journey, and then, upon reaching my breaking point, I would realize that to stay there any longer would lead only to despair or the madhouse, and so I would break free again from the troubles, ideas, creations, and pathos of the world, and would wander up the coast somewhere, to sit in the forest or by the sea, and to lick my wounds and weep the whole damned jumble away.
The problem was not that I was inhuman and did not belong, but that I was too human.
Too much pain, too much wonder, too much love, loss and sorrow.
Too bloody much.
In the center of it all I came to be ripped in two
by the intimacy and separation I could not explain to others
but with a stoic laugh and an accepting sigh.
This period of wandering and isolation did not come about because I had stopped caring for my friends and family. On the contrary, I cared very much, and yet there was a gnawing ache inside of me from which I could not get away, something which spoke in a voice I could barely hear, but which said something like, “If you really cared about them, or about yourself for that matter, you would forget life as it has been presented to you, and get to the bottom of the whole gory mess of it.”
Ah yes, what a mess indeed. I couldn’t continue to exist without finding out why life on this marvelous earth had become so disagreeable, because I can tell you I didn’t have a single answer, and I could sense that no one else around me did either, regardless of how confidently they walked through their illusionary lives.
So I left my home and familiars like an Apache scout who sees the coming winter and the barren fields, sees the impending starvation and suffering, and wanders off to other lands in an attempt to find another place where food and shelter are plenty so as to later return for his tribe, that they might survive the long and merciless season.
And for that I became a lost and hungry man, wandering about in an empty wildland and not even knowing how to get home.
Yet it was there that I received the insights and inspirations which become possible only from taking a step away from the corporeal panoply and societal encumbrances which consume and debilitate body, mind and soul in the most subtle ways, such that one might not even feel themselves being overwhelmed until all clarity and repose are gone and no memory left of their absence. And that is an irreconcilable absence, which is why it was only at a removed distance that I could begin to understand the true nature of existence and my consecrated part within it.
And so the grand and virgin cedar forests and wild coast of British Columbia, dotted with softly tinted islands running out forever in the mist of the setting sun, would bring me to a voiceless, lonely rapture and open me up like a vacuum, sucking all of mankind’s dross and memory from my core, for it was on this part of the great orb, amongst the magnificent forests, the crashing surf, and the unknowable wildness of it all, that I had become intoxicated with the earth.
I have never known such uncluttered beauty as exists out there on the coast. It must be how the soft light mingles up from the ocean and onto each successive island, until the sky is reached, and the panorama sits like a shifting water color of gentle hues composed of no color the mind can capture, for it is not a color, it is a feel.
Jack Haas Creations
January 6 ·
https://www.facebook.com/jackhaasofficial/
Chapter 4, from IN AND OF-memoirs of a mytic journey
http://www.jackhaas.net/books.htm
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