I Will Re-EnteR: The Duties of Love

"Of all the hexagrams, 29 is one of my favourites...Here’s what I read there: “The name of this hexagram is formed by two characters: Xi + Kan. Xi figuratively shows the situation of the little bird, still in the nest, but pushed by its mother to leave the nest into the void, because it has to discover the art of flying, or how to be carried by this void. This image is used to express the idea of ‘learning by repeating’. Kan figuratively expresses the idea of a place where solid ground disappears under our feet, thus provoking a sudden sense of fear and anxiety. Xi & Kan together show that when vertigo paralyses, it is by action we have to react. Daring to advance, that’s the tool to prevent inertion to take over. When we doubt our possibilities, we can discover, buried deep down in ourselves, unsuspected possibilities when we dare to engage.” And he continues with a beautiful translation of “Movement brings honour”: ‘Agir amène à se surpasser’ or: ‘To act leads to surpass oneself’. Translating always is a kind of interpretation of course, but Javary & Faure’s view on 29 for me was an eye opener and helped a lot. In a way the image of this little bird appealed to me, because it overcomes the fear of flying simply by suddenly discovering it was its reason of being, it was printed in its DNA. Our deepest fears sometimes lead the way to discover/uncover our reason of being, that which makes us unique."

Hexagram 29 of the I Ching: Omens that appear insurmountable. Appear. But are not so. I realize my greatest fears, which are of mine, the tribes, the collective, both overlapping and distinct, are the keys to my greatest strengths.

I think of my shadow side. Of my alternate persona, the one I speak quietly of or none at all. But who speaks loudly; sometimes I can see this raucous demon hold others who believe themselves light. I am entering the chasm, we All are. I really do not know if I can fly, my fears swell up inside my hollowed breast like an inverted and dark sea. But deep down, beyond the muck, I can fly, I do fly.

I am being taught by all these different energies around me what I need to learn in the Now. So that, if I pay attention, if I listen, I can hear the whisper of wings that are built and building 'round me and upon me. I am beginning to realize that fear is a choice, insomuch that once it is felt it can be decided upon whether to repeat or re-instigate the fear. Water upon water, a repetitive entering into the dark chasm; do I want to embrace my demons again and again? Is this healthy fear--fear that I feel, act upon, push through, all under the current of conscientiousness?

This is the light of the New Aeon, the dark side of the moon's beams, where the darkest parts will now be repetitively exposed. And I have thematically been paralyzed by fear: of falling in love, of rejection, of failure, of disappointment, of debauchery... .A. 
                   And I must act now in the face of my gouged and wound fears. For the sake of me, the individual, and for the sake of the tribe and of the collective. If anything, I realize it is my duty as my own god, as a small blue god amongst many others. I was gifted the wondrous experience of this existence, I was bestowed the awe-inducing brilliance of great pleasures and great pains and of seemingly fixed realities entropic and compounding-- and for this I must be the best energy I can be.

I realize the change in the wind, it smells different. All of it. I gain new eyes each day.

So I will enter the chasm. With all my strengths, those lit upon and those deep in the dark. I am the archetype, and I breathe wispy inspiration, recycled and a'new. Because I intuit the holiness, and I feel it only right to cherish this beauty all around me... by upholding the true Aristocracy: the Conscious.

“How we fall into grace. You can't work or earn your way into it. You just fall. It lies below, it lies beyond. It comes to you, unbidden.”

 .LOVE. ((Motr'in around in my bodice, transferring by dynamic DNA))


M .A. R

Cyclical Clusterfucks in and around and out Me

Me? I-me-mine?

Who the fuck is that?

I feel like rambling, and it will be potentially ugly and myopic and therefore probably beautiful like the iridescent swirls of oil on a poisoned gull of the Mother Ocean.

I haven't written here in a one-two binary minute. I haven't expunged myself of the sins of my father, of my mother, all the ones before me and of me. Recently, I have had my life on a sinking ship that hesitates in the mouth of a hungering elemental force: water, the emotions.

I am falling in love. More and more with the sun and moon ballroom dance tempo to guide me.

Just reaching, I feel, for authenticity, is radical and raw and hurts a whole lot.

Authenticity. Pleasurepain. The illusion of dichotomies.

With the concentric spirals that lie in her eyes, his eyes, the Eye, I am whirled and whorled within my own pains, which are the worlds.

The locus of my pain is that which pains mother Earth, and anyone who is awake or awakening can feel this sensation, this silent scream that grips in the body and out the body.  

I feel I bring about the cosmic, but I don't. My life has been blessed with the cosmic. I was born awakening, and I am eternally grateful that I was given the Eye to see. Because I have no idea why me and not you, why the heroin addict across the street and not me, why? Why me?

"With great power comes great responsibility."

I am merely a sacrificial vase of jade. An energy allocation awakening; to do the duty it is perfectly designed for.

I am here to Love. To bring connection where it has dissolved. Within my own internal bruis-ed fungus, and necessarily then, without me. ((cleanup time))

 
The joy I intuit is already within me and without me. The joy is all over. This is a phenomenon, a grand phenomenon of CONNECTION. Whatever it is, whoever made it, I cannot yet fathom; but I know it was built to connect, to fuse, to synthesize, to balance itself out, to sustain. The joy is already there, and each of us must clean the dirt around our heart and bowels, and rejoice in the sheer genius of all of this.

phoenix of haus 8 rises from death

But, Now: Our world in this x and y axis of linear space and time has fucked up. Humanity, and perhaps forces higher and lower, have fucked up. I feel it, all the time, so raw, so bruised. Ah, I feel the burden, and my vessel of love is not the only one who feels it.

Whether or not you are awake, you share the burden. 

               The anxiety of which origins you cannot place, which grips you in the middle of the night in a sea-swept sweated bed, that whispers to you from all around and sets off a glitch in this Matrix, when entropy becomes the every-other-day---

that is the pain of an injured planet,

a call to transcend the current reality

of disillusion and utter bullshit,

so blatant its embarassing,

to sublimate your every doing and every thought

to the higher more peaceful more authentic 

calling. 

Real talk.

But, Action?

Que accion? 

I'll take my philosophy for now: Wait to Respond. In sets of threes. Emotionally defined, so I must just ride my waves which I flood into those closest to me. My path is divulging, and the Eye allows me glimpses of the future, and I delight in my path as Rainbowarrior. I delight in the joy I know rides beneath the deepest vortex of shadow. 

Alright, its out. I bow out, for now. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

       

 

Oahahaaaoahaha ooah

I just had really existential/zen implosion over my habit of skateboarding.

I skateboard because I am not frightened of dying. I skateboard because I am deeply, deeply (deeper than) human.

Interesting.


And I am not frightened of dying, anytime will do....

-->

“If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.”

Fall's Flying: Balance

A holistic outlook on life. Life as Life. Life as Not Life. 

A synapse here shot straight spiral to philosophical cluster~fuck. 


I realize I'm aggressive in my search for Consciousness. I am fervent, rabid, an animal that believes itself caged and so bites at obsidian fur, a mutilation for an end preservation.

I want to wake myself up todos en tiempo, siempre, ahora. I want to help wake other humans up too, albeit now I am more focused on this here body of mine.

In the fiery propulsion of my star kissed path, I come to land upon something like the wind; swaying, oscillating, brushing up against.
It is an actuality and an intangibility, of course, expectedly.

Balance.

And there I sit and ponder the spiritual gouges that freckle my skin. My eyelid closes slowly again and I question my insatiability: this overwhelming desire to consciousness, to higher being, to a holy vessel living true to its design. 

I am very much like a young stallion learning to gallop. And balance is essential. Balance is essential.

I've been mulling over the concept and manifestation of rationality and irrationality. And how irrationality is very often linked to emotions. And how humans tend to skirt around feeling emotions because of the inability to cognitively, rationally, understand them. 

Then I bathe myself in balance. I see either end of the spectrum (although this is NOT a linear phenomenon) of chronic emotional reactions or chronic rational reactions, as imbalanced, unhealthy, disenchanting, unfulfilling. 

Our life must be a give and take of rational//emotional. I would even argue it best to synthesize the two in every reaction. Conscientiousness. Yes. Feeling your emotional blood beat in every situation while also kindly rooted to the ground like a redwood. 

That is my desire for daily living. For I have witnessed, in myself and others, a polarizing phenomenon of hyper-rationality or hyper-emotionality... and neither serves the individual, as I see it. I perceive them as living one-sided, out of touch with themselves or entirely lost in themselves.  

Either a well-rooted but lifeless redwood, or an uprooted one, soon to die.

Either too rooted in control, or sky high in an emotional whirlwind. 

And I suppose, upon all this mulling over, that it is partially subjective, how I view balance, rationality, emotionality.

But I also believe its partially objective, meaning universal. 

We are one whole organism, human being. Not static no, but definitely unified. And we can intuit and understand equilibrium, as well as sense discord.

Tapping in to tap out. To use your emotional intelligence in the fostering of rational intelligence, and vice versa. Yeah. That's what I seek, to practice, to learn, to gallop.

And by writing this I fulfill the other halve of a whole I mentioned before. That yes, I write this for myself, but also so that you too can be inspired to find balance in your life. Believe it or not, you know exactly what you need to do to find balance; it's already written within and without you.

So.
Begin the day, and be gentle with yourself.




LOVE

M .A. R


Happy Libra everyone, it's gonna be a good one.   

 

Nostalgia's Just a Burp of Time

"The darkness is the closet for which your lover's heart roosts, and that night fowl that caws against her spirit and yours, dropping between you and her the awful estrangement of his bowels... the night is where all becomes estranged."
                                                             -Djuna Barnes,  Nightwood



"There are night people, and there are day people."
 
"Night people do not bury their dead, but on the neck of You, their beloved and waking, sling their creature husked of its gestures. And where it goes, you go."

What you reap you first did sow. This I learn and sometimes know. 





Now, Me time:

"One day I am going to stay up the whole night and walk 'round. I'll kill you with the look of the night and flex my muscle only to know the vibrating wave of your bone goin' crunch. Just sing."

"A uniqorn is whole only when she takes into account her shadow."

Mulling Over Time as it Mulls Me Over ...?

You have finally hit rock bottom: a span called the Planck length, the shortest anything can get. According to recent developments in the quest to devise a so-called "theory of everything," space is not an infinitely divisible continuum. It is not smooth but granular, and the Planck length gives the size of its smallest possible grains.

The time it takes for a light beam to zip across this ridiculously tiny distance (about 10 to the minus 43 seconds) is called the Planck time, the shortest possible tick of an imaginary clock. Combine these two ideas and the implication is that space and time have a structure. What is commonly thought of as the featureless void is built from tiny units, or quanta.

"We've long suspected that space-time had to be quantized," said Dr. Steven B. Giddings, a theorist at the University of California at Santa Barbara. "Recent developments have led to some exciting new proposals about how to make these ideas more concrete."

Regardless of the detail ridden culture of Modern Science, One should ponder upon the implications of the concept behind this....

we (Todos) are an orderly puzzle...oooh Fractals. 

Oooh. Maybe our lives aren't random begrudgeness... maybe one can learn of and tap into the Order.... maybe we've already done this and mostly forgotten how to...

My question is...


What is your Ritual(s)? 

How do you feel most connected? (Connected to this multidimensional breathing rubix cube called l-i-f-e. ?)

The discovery of a correlated relationship between the existence of parallel and vertical universes...making a grid, an infinitesimal grid. Quantum physics baby.

"Trust some ellipses, to chase you 'round the room"- Arctic Monkeys

"The only true aristocracy is that of Consciousness"  -D.H. Lawrence

Have a glorious moment of dimensionalized time called a "Sunday Evening"

LOVE

R .A. M

Breathe Breadth

 "‎Wholeness and longing are as common as breath, so much a part of the fabric of our being they often remain unseen. They meet us everywhere, setting direction, not detail. All we do is answer their call. The shapes we build about them become a life lived, unique in time."
                                                        - Michael Bratnick