Resolving into Now

No matter what causes you to be dissatisfied with this moment, it's resolution always puts you squarely back in the middle of another moment. We call it now, but existence is only ever the moment. The sense that something needs to change, to be better, to be more complete, to be in any way different, is only a thought occurring now to an impersonal awareness. Rest in the knowingness that whatever is arising now, you are the receiver of it, not the creator.

One Line Poem #12

Cut the cord between whatever shows up, and what you think it means for this breathing organism.

Hold These Things Thoughout the Day

Notice the very fact of your existence.
That ordinary knowing of life.
Nothing special, just the is-ness of life.
Existence is here. Undeniable. No thinking required.

Notice that into this open place flows all.
The world, the body, all movement.
Every bite you put in your mouth.
Every movement you make, others make.
All perceived.

Revel in the utter defenselessness of this awareness.
It stops at nothing.
It seems to have continuity.
It is what you are; what everything is.

Feel yourself belonging to, existing AS this vast existence.
It is not something to think about, to find.
It is the ordinariness of complete life membership
Feel how it is what looks out of your eyes and knows.
You have never left it, it has never left you.

One line poem #11

Give up trying to use your mind to open doors.

How to Open

You will never be promoted to total freedom
in this ordinary way of living for yourself.
But rejoice, because you are not chained
to an external platitude, your identity.
Everyone takes two breaths, then goes to one.

Men and women have worked a land
belonging to no one.
Their identities submerged until eyes open.
Only to find, there was no closing.

Can it be that this one thing never hidden,
is my only song today?

Four men walk out on a bridge.
One sits and begins fishing.
One stares out at the horizon in meditation.
One lowers himself into the water.
The last one never was.
Find them in yourself.

The unique expression of it lives on!
Singularity is not tied to identity.
Singularity is simply motion.

What Do You Know?

Sitting there, upright. Check to see what  is actually here. Are you a mind inside a body, made alive by some forces unknown? Experiencing this objective world, which you did not make? Thinking,  judging, improving through minds conditioned by culture bound by time and changing constantly. Is this what you are? Or what  you know? When referring to yourself, check to see if anything other than the knowing of experience has ever been present.

Abstain from Bigger Minds

Have you taken this Love and parsed it into letters?

Spoken strings, musing the point?

We can't stop comparing this moment,

Or asking Rilke or Rumi to speak for us.

Though beautiful expressions of truth

remind us of our timeless wandering,

Nothing satisfies like the tide of being.

Whether mere focus or streaming action.

Know when to abstain from big minds
And follow the gossamer thread
Of your own path.
That instance of living that you only can know.

Speak to yourself like a teacher clapping for attention.

Don't go home and think about it.

An exalted mind is a troubled mind.

Fearful and wanting to wander away.

An arrogant mind believes in its own highest value.

But who gave you that mind?

To lead by proofing from confusion

is to insulate yourself from the portal.

We arrive on sufferance not on scholarship.

Live in the "half-empty" space.

Come with an inch or two of hollowness.

Allow the truth to wedge in between lofty ideas.

Make room to notice your own Self.

You can not NOT be what you are,

but you can THINK otherwise.

How can you sing if your mouth is full?

Wit is delightful
and as good as gold in any bar.

But this quest is for dissolution.

Cherish your compound analysis
and you will be standing alone.

The same with comparative unraveling.

If you want to strive, go to the gym.

To this place, bring anticipation.

Bring childlike curiosity.

Come like a sleeping child to a campfire meeting.

Be quieted by the crackling of the flames.

Be filled with the dancing light.

Be comforted by warm bodies in a circle.

Feel the inner quiet in these lovers.

Your inner life will come out to play.
Pray that a spark of recognition will leave the fire 

and shoot your way.

Listen

There is perfection in this moment, that

if you are quiet, you can hear.

The delightful dance weaving through the day,

is yours for the joining.

The full out, whole body, streaming of energy

creating this moment becomes you with no struggling.

The symphony send music right to your heart. 

Listen for it.

There is a congregation of being forming you,
which has always been.

Pay It Forever

Are you still paying for your life?
Every encounter a transaction.
Keep on giving - it hurts already.
With no end to the debt you've imagined.

What can we bring if not this imperfect
set of skills and competence?
The receipt you demand as proof
for service is your version of gratitude.

How quickly the anger and shame flows,
when our gifts of competence and skill are not needed.
Personal insult at best, complete devaluation at worst.
Didn't the universe put you here to work?
  
Pay up, pay up. An internal whisper sung by the generations.
Make sure you don't sit quietly and just exist.
Pro bono life only seems forbidden.
Sometimes, nothing given, is just right.

That flush of shame creeping up your neck,
is only the old arrogance we all have.
That our skills and talents are needed now, and,
if not accepted, we are indebted and alone.

What joy there is in knowing the reverse!
That our very presence is a gift worth having.
Others will remember when they see you own it.
"Take me as I am"

To your own self and others, offer completeness.
You never came in any way but this:
Empty-handed,
Open-hearted.

The Given

This moment, this. Gentle facing.
Whether tear-soaked or radiant,
Once sought, now found,
minus the account of  you.

Erasing the effort of striving.
Of improving the tale,
Of deleting past transgressions,
for a better you to come.

This moment, this. Alive on arrival.
Unremarkable, but the end of longing.
Attend as if standing alone on a high point,
leaving no room for the rewritten past.

This moment, this. Complete.
Come into your body with such fullness,
arising from an attention so minute,
that all sensations
become whispers.

This moment, this blink. Gifted.
Given from nowhere.
Defenses dissolve. Requirements recede.
When you hear "given"
your very willfulness can subside.

Don't Let Enthusiasm Stop You

Don't let the enthusiasm for new year's goals,
or discouragements from last year's promises,
prevent you from standing in the present.
The task for this day is to stand on the center dot. Yours.
Put that in your goal sheet.
Resurrect the sheer wonder at how this roller coaster life,
keeps coming back to center.

Breathe in existence as if it were your last breath.
Dance if you are asked to. Partake.
Do not leave one drop of yourself inside,
when the outside adventure begins.
Land on attunement and be glad.
With both hands on your heart,
Offer yourself to the whole world. Whatever comes.

Gladness comes of staying awake in the sleeping place.
It is not success you want, but attention to the journey.
Later in your armchair, you can smile,
not at having accomplished so much,
but at having kept your eyes open the whole time.

Ember

From the depths of the staleness of a life half-lived
A spark of recognition comes.
It may only be the sudden joy of encountering a puppy,
or the exploits of a man who has sailed around the world.
What is that spark which unsettles and teases?
It is reformation, reclamation.
What has been lost since childhood, can be found.
Right livelihood is a gem among gems.
It means you find your place, your happiness, your sadhana.

If you find that spark, blow on it. Nurture it.
Let the tiny ember grow until you burst into flame.
And find home.

Fear of Joy

Fear of joy has a name that you can look it up in the dictionary.  Even the word "Joy" has a strange, "otherworldliness" about it.  I thought about it yesterday on the first of the year. It came in the form of a memory about a college friend who died some years ago.  Joy was not afraid to visit her. It was welcomed like an old friend. Conversely, I treat joy as if it is an embarrassingly youthful impulse that really ought to go outside where it can make noise without disturbing the adults.

If Joy were to visit you, what would be so bad about that? Imagine for a moment, how you would treat such unaccountable friend who dropped in in the middle of the day?