NOW MOSTLY UNKNOWN*
IT IS WHAT IT IS
NO ‘I’ OR ‘GOD’ REMAINS TO BE BELIEVED OR WORDED
A FREEDOM BEYOND WORDS & BELIEF
*”the "silencing" or negation of everything that is not God.”
*See Bernadette Roberts + Cloud of Unknowing – Categories on OceanSpeak
hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.
Ever since happiness heard your name,
it has been running through the streets trying to find you.
I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness,
the astonishing light of your own being.
There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that
Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living in better conditions.
"There is poetry in emotion that needs to be expressed -
allowing yourself to be raw and open to what arises..."
"letting life take care of itself,
being open to where life goes..."
OCEAN ROARS "...as fish out of water hear the waves,.." May 21, 2019
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it must know that it should give to others what it wishes to receive from them.
The great fault of humanity today
is that everyone seeks to get the better of others,
by which one is often caught in one's own net.
… [T]he waters of the fountains of inspiration dispensed to artists by the Muses,
the liquor in the little pails of the guides and guardians of the mysteries,
the drink of the gods, and the distillate of love are the same,
in various strengths, to wit, ambrosia (Sanskrit, ‘amrta,’ 'immortality’),
the potion of deathless life experienced here and now.
It is milk, it is wine, it is tea, it is coffee,
it is anything you like, when drunk with a certain insight--
life itself, when experienced from a certain depth and height.
Creative Mythology (Vol. IV of The Masks of God), p. 8
. —Emily Dickinson
Friday I tasted life.
It was a vast morsel.
A Circus passed the house —-
still I feel the red in my mind though the drums are out.
The Lawn is full of south and the odors tangle,
and I hear to-day for the first time
the river in the tree
“there is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life,
making itsy-bitsy statues.”
There is always an enormous temptation in all of life
to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys
for itsy-bitsy years on end.
It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral,
simply to step aside from the gaps
where the creeks and winds pour down, saying,
I never merited this grace, quite rightly,
and then to sulk along the rest of your days on the edge of rage.
The world is wilder than that in all directions,
more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright.
We are making hay when we should be making whoopee;
we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus.
If you can find them; they shift and vanish too.
Stalk the gaps.
This is how you spend this afternoon,
and tomorrow morning,
and tomorrow afternoon.
You can’t take it with you.
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek