Integration, Do Re Mi: To Do and Be

And speaking of being.  It’s no longer possible to Do without Being.  Or to Be without Doing.  We can’t spend our lives meditating to feel good.  We must integrate our disparate selves and bring them out into the field of infinite possibilities.  We can’t go out into the world protesting, struggling against evil, incessantly helping others without stopping to take a breathe and connect to our own inner essence.  We are being called to a place where Being and Doing are the same thing.  In this place we find synchronicity and joyful co-creation, because we have moved beyond egoistic achievement and unconscious self sabotage.  It also moves us out of trying to live our ideals, a place that is akin to slavery to old religious or philosophic beliefs.

                                                                            -Kim Gould


All of this takes time, the slippage of sands, the percolation of a solitary oasis that all others have dipped each golden hand in.

The Yin capacity. The open, pulsating, power of vulnerability. of strength, not power. Laid in the darkness of its beginnings for centuries now.

I recognizing the fractal dualities, biverse into biverse into biverse into biverse again and again. I recognize my duality, especially accentuated as I can both manifest and generate. I can both exert Yang and absorb through Yin.

I reorient myself to the Yin, now. This labial flower is a small, smiling seed. . . I have the Yang talons golden and sharpened. I have my beak, ever penetrating out into the world. My raptor eye that rarely ceases to cut through other's armors of the ego. I have all that, wonderous predatory beauty.

And I turn to Yin.

I turn to weakness, fragility, horror, the fetal position and small screams choked and foreign from my foamed mouth.

Because from there divine inspiration will take me in its rapture, sweet and quiet like lips brushed against the small hairs of the face. Small hairs, large sensations. 

And from there I will know true strength. I will know a joy beyond all cognitive conception or sensory perception. I will know joy from such a dark forbidden place with paralyzing fear, fear for the chance of no return. I will know a joy so viscous, thick, slow moving aorund my vessel, that I will gasp in the pain of the greatest surprise. To end with an exhale of a confusion laid to rest.

Perhaps my greatest fear is not the state of Confusion.

Perhaps I am so entirely afraid to Know.


For knowing often has no way of expressing itself.







And then I found Art.




LO.V.E.

M .A. R