new term: sa-tis-side
meaning: being conveniencedto death, on your own
When the process
of pattern perception
is working towards recognition
and recognition as a result
is not immediately achieved,
the mind is more in the pursuit
of a deeper inquiry rather than
holding constant, its conclusion.
It is a richer place
of mindful sophistication
for the mind to be searching
than it is to be holding firm
to a declarable answer.
The engagement of search
is more tizzy immersive
than being bland custodial
with a now, stored answer.
more brain activity
then memory retention
waiting to blurt forth.
So the curious end
of pattern perception
as pursuit is inviting
while the results end
soon becomes boring
and waiting to be stated.
Search is a way
of open ended permission
while seizure is then
a means of custodial upkeep
and preparing a defense
for the claimed results.
Appreciate the search
in and of itself delicious
before expectation binds you
with the hands and posture
of posing with results . . .
People who have lived their dream
so that others embrace the possibility.
People who have shared a cause
to canopy for others to come forth.
People who have past it forward
so that others rekindle the giving process.
People who have successfully failed
so that others will demystify their goals.
People who have no god but kindness
so that others respond with empathy.
People who have lived a crazy wisdom
so that others create their life from within.
People who have energetic kinship ties
so that others risk a deeper feel for spirit.
People who have tinkered
to find for others, a deeper means.
People who have exhibited courage
so that others believe in themselves.
People who have shared their dying
so that others more richly live their lives.
People who have benefited from traumas
so that others see method to their madness.
People who have trusted their process
so that others see themselves to it.
These are people,
who have . . .
In a world of language,
all nouns have a bounty on them
and live in the past,
while all verbs
invite me to whimsy as journey.
My hope upon us meeting
is that I don’t take from you,
For understanding maybe custodial
and lacks the intimacy of trust
that I would yearn for from within.
May your words not be instructions,
but more so,
inviting edges of immersions,
emissaries, as it were,
to the interface of our auras.
May the harmonics of our beings
find a means into our sensory range.
And provide for us,
expansions as a permissions
for our now to express
through the oneness of us.
Life is lived
between the snapshots
and beyond recognition’s claims
In that way,
life doesn’t press
has a buoyancy of worth,
channels the spirit
comes up for reality air
then dives back
into the unknown
as if to swim
a visionary kelp bed
just off the coast
The myth of efforting
(as this may be an effort to read!)
We all have been solicited by a phrase
like, “Put some effort into it.” It is such
a safe remark as a character promoter.
But efforting is actually dangerous and
for some, a deadly means of action. If
we looked at efforting as a process
without specific regard to the task
per se but as the means used to
accomplish this, “efforting” as in its
thought forms, its emotional input,
its mental constructs, and its physical
means, efforting, besides the apparent
displays and eventual external results,
has many internal consequences and
invokes certain hidden means used to
accomplish these external goals that
leave internal results to the contrary
of what displays to the world. Much
of efforting is reinforced by will as the
shear force of intention and
determination. What makes up those
particular components in their
concentrated forms can be
compositions of reactions,
restimulations, anger, varied forms
of emotional displacements,
constrictions or compressions of being
to produce that effort, venting of
undeclared withheldness, etc. all of
these descriptives arise from a
mindfulness of previous conclusions
and judgments that have registered
and remain unresolved somewhere
within. That pent-up-ness can be
poured into efforting in almost
unknowable ways almost as a form of
negative but self-identifying grounding.
We are all trained to some degree in
the nuisances of this and have used it
to accomplish much of what we do that
lacks passion and compelling desire to
make it so. For some people this, as a
lifestyle of habits, is below the horizon
of being noticed as such. And by its
habitual nature, proceeds to dwell
deeper into a person at the chemical
and electrical levels within them.
Their nervous systems are rigorously
enrolled, their chemistries are at
after-affect, and sometimes disease
can result without the slightest
connection being made to how they do
what they do as it contradicts them
internally but produces favorable
results in the world for others and
themselves. Efforting can take the past,
in the form of memories held as
judgments traumatic and otherwise,
and certainly as strong conclusions,
make observations of the present be
this preoccupation, and determine an
expectation set for the future and do
whatever is necessary in the now to
either avoid what happened then or
reproduce what happened then by
means of effort in the forms of
influence and control as well as action
that can fill the present with
preoccupations and very little of the
natural process of presence in the now.
Stress is a byproduct of this style but
we all claim that it is hard to avoid and
that it really exists as a given, not
knowing the depth or thoroughness of
its impact internally upon any of us
specifically. Some wear it well, some
endure and survive, and some succumb
to these unknowns in wear down wear
out ways. Many have emotional anger
or mental principledness redirected
into their method of efforting and never
see it surface to declare it in any other
way. It has become a way of life and a
suitable means for channeling it, it
seems. For it is hard to display
otherwise and more difficult to dissect
in such a conscious way as to rewire
the means so that it is not harmful to
one’s self. How we do what we do is
hardly identifiable by others who truly
benefit from the positive results they
receive. And so, each person within
their effort, has to self study and
discover if how they do what they do
truly evolves them in doing it in the
first place and certainly by those
efforting means. The basic notions
of proving your worth, sometimes
compelled by hidden low self-esteem,
as a lifetime effort or needing to merit
your life by earning it over assumed
social disapproval, are two formidable
perspectives that sanction efforting as
acceptable and are clueless to see it
otherwise. We are event driven and a
measured people and efforting seems
to be quite the necessity to accomplish
those types of goals and that sense of
upstandingness. All of this is what
humans have come to do so readily,
unto themselves and be at the private
nagging affect and suffer the
consequences without making an
association between goal and means
where by the carriage of the moment is
in the moment and not justified by the
end results so frozen as valued in time.
Our entire life is one unfolding tea
ceremony. Efforting is not a technique
that we would use towards that
procession. We fail to appreciate or
revel in the available means at our
disposal to accomplish that celebrative
journey. We are generally not the
wisdom of sentience in passage. We
are easily seduced and trained to be
fact junkies and frame junkies and for
the most part, experience intake
junkies and duly accountable as such.
Efforting, when noticed should reveal
itself as a red flag within our lifestyle.
It seems baffling without
contemplation of one’s own process.
And at some point in that process of
awareness, it becomes compelling as
a concern. And the question arises.
How to be present as a being and be
expressing oneself from where within
where it all comes from and how to
allow the passion of your spirit to find
expression as your life, given freely
and shared accordingly as in the
coming of oneness as a consciousness
through all of these diversified people
means. Thus to embrace the myth of
efforting from within . . .
in the palm of the hand,
working the now.
Time is an array
of still shot skills
a movie making world.
Time is a set of rules
for the observation of solids
in a flash flood-to-ocean display.
Time is the formalism
in a colloquial setting’s
Time is a benchmark
observed by many
and not the carved initials
seen as sacred to a few.
Time is migratory routes
expected with seasons
and not the first real spontaneous
snowstorm of the year.
Time is holiday driven enterprise
and not the first
wake up thought of the day.
Time is a big brother concept,
as a false notion of unity,
some what like trainer wheels
on an unnamed vehicle
driving our lives..
Time is a belly flop
into the pooling of now.
Time is dollars and cents
that do not cash out
as good will.
Time is a prenuptial agreement
before the engagement to now.
Time is an artificial insemination
into the mind of responsibility.
Time is the incurable common cold
faced with linearity
as a Kleenex solution.
Time is equipping
the next moment’s start gun
with a megaphone as a silencer.
Time is reaching,
when a stretch move would do.
time is a false progeny view,
when really, we are all
that looking glass
and also looking through.
NOTE: if you will check youtube
you will find that this poem
also exists as a video.
Our condition of truth,
is media cajoled
by the nose-ring of curiosity
posing as interest.
By this method,
we are occasionally
grazing on experiences,
somewhat taking nourishment
somehow not knowing
how or why.
We are somewhat pulled forward
by a myriad of emotional pangs,
all of which eventually will recede.
the momentum of falling forward
has new apprehensive pangs
and their waggle of say.
Looking back, weeks,
years or decades later,
of senseless pursuit appear.
Inquiry is eventually chewed
into a bland of absent-mindedness.
Unconsciously drawn and driven,
in that false alarm light,
are indistinguishable urges.
There is nothing
that essentially matters,
for the stand alone
highlights of themselves.
Self-consciousness will coalesce,
yet it is inwardly moving forward.
Our thought-form hands are filled
with contentious controversial heaps
yet dripping with meaningful
as if to feed
the pangs of our emptiness.
We find from that diet
of palpable passivity
that grips us
as the consensual world.
Only when we find ourselves
from behind these positions
and apparent circumstances,
do we truly get to
authentically personally confirm
our condition of truth.
Then, the light of our being
goes through us
and through others around us
There is such shared revelation,
as much as dust in the air
becomes confetti of the heart,
and the collective light
as if kindred souls awake.
And it goes through us
and yet there may be
no apparent ignition.
But there is light from within.
And this light from within
does reveal, our condition of truth.
Movement from within
our spirits realized,
in this apparent stillness
that each of us possess,
and richly so,
our condition of truth . . .
To train the mind,
using elusive schemes
to escape the method in place
as dictated by conscious habit,
is to transcend the daily rituals
and the general manipulation
of familiar props
to divine the now
with a full presence
unencumbered by expectations
or by previous remembered
or by recognition as proof
or by secured theme as story line
or by any momentum
of dumb down happening.
Self-consciousness, in general,
Has been the back seat driver
with entitlement intent.
All of this as history to now
is an experience echo,
but never in the immediate now
yet closely associated with it.
Most of our current think is really
a paparazzi of consciousness
forever chasing after
and hounding the eminent now,
as if it is a celebrity a new.
Where our think is immersion,
answers are only rescue ring buoys
as realities tossed our way.
It all happens before
inner speak coronates it.
Most of the time,
we sit in the bleachers
post confetti and streamers
if it’s good,
wrench folded program
gone sadly bad.
With conclusions drawn,
it is now on
to the next text event
of our lives
however large, small,
interior or grand.
This leaves us
a fast diffusing account
of present moments as past,
dumbfounding but justified.
If anyone has found a way
to escape this riddle
of conscious existence
and displays accordingly,
a crisp vital presence of being,
we glom on to them to stop
and pray tell,
how do you do that!
Which, of course,
ends the flow
as it now was, in most cases.
Each person’s ritual into the now
is a sacred self-secret
of their private internal
anchored in soul
and expressed as heart.
Sharing the broadcast
of the harmonics of that
provides a safe environment
for others to leap also
as if the premise is:
You don’t fly
because you don’t have wings,
but you need to leap
to grow wings
and then fly!
The mind is all sky . . .
A sudden nano-burst
of steeped tranquility,
and I have not moved,
even one thought over.
I am hardly a new breath,
still in the awareness echo
of the last heartbeat.
Notice of itself,
without the masquerade
is panting in the haste
has not signaled yet
towards lifting a limb.
that comes as a flood, a calling.
I am quick
with my inner eyes,
but no nametags appear.
The cue of presentability
in me, is leaderless,
no gestures for portrayal,
not even time
for alert to the troops
of summary as assistance
or a fix of posture
or a self-conscious decree
for presence to bloom
front and center.
Can’t pull a topic up
or even launch
a tongue with lips
towards words alert.
All the mental synapses,
miles and miles
of these nerves,
are even now
still in fire lines,
caught passing buckets
of same-ole same-ole
napping slosh along.
It is a sudden burst
of steeped tranquility.
And it has taken me
to a receiver mind,
outside of time
that is shrouded by
It has taken me beyond
the heart of the matter,
beyond the need
for designation in action.
It is a sudden burst
of steeped tranquility,
and with this rush,
my soul has ever so
an impetuous smile
coming upon me . . .