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Part One: Days April 14, 2004 Poli-ticked Off The government plays very fast and loose with the truth -- they do not speak with candor. They're giving us a right and proper goose. They're feeding us a plate of propergander ! April 14 Devi Mantra Uma Durga Radha Kali Subhadra Vajreshvari April 14 A Presidential Pep Talk Stand firm, stand firm, and stay the course. Once you're in the saddle, don't get off the horse ! Ride on, ride on, into the night. Once you start shooting, don't give up the fight ! April 15 Good Cheers Mine Ray Huh Nine Ray Huh Mine Ray Huh Nuh-Nuh
Pee-Toh Lumma-Nuh-Nuh Pee-Toh Lumma-Nuh-Nuh Pee-Toh Lumma-Nuh-Nuh Bola Tunga Wauw April 15 First and Last When you're young, you want to be older. When you're old, you want to be young. When you're born, your story's been told and when you're dead, you've hardly begun. Take your time. Don't live in the future. Take your time. Don't live in the past. Now's the time to get so much closer to yourself as you are first and last. April 16 Cheer Heych Heych Rimmi Tikki Lumba Hey Toh Kah Hey Toh Kah April 16 Hail Eve Inanna Inanna Inanna Astarte Ashtoreth Ashtoreth Inanna Inanna Inanna Ishtar Ashtoreth Ashtoreth April 16 Athenaia Eos Hera Persephone Hecate Circe Gaia Rhea Aphrodite Demeter Dike
April 16 Everybody Maybe everybody's everybody's doormat. Maybe nobody's been doing what they want. Maybe we're forced into somebody else's format, and we're forcing our agenda in response. But if what I do is always what you do, And what you do has likewise come from me, then we end up -- with nothing -- to do. But wait a minute. Now I think I see! Yes, everybody's everybody's teacher! And enlightenment is closer than we think. Yes, the brilliant heart of love in every creature can illuminate the way to interlink. Listen to your neighbor's voice. It is your own! Oh now rejoice! April 19 Gopi Mantra Lalita Vishaka Chitra Rangadevi Indulekha Tungavidya Champakalata Sudevi According to a Sanskrit scripture, the Gopis are as worshipable as Krishna, the Supreme Godhead. April 21 Mother Margot Adler introduced this chant at a Unitarian gathering maybe 20 years ago: Mother I can feel you under my feet Mother I can hear your heart beat Mother I can see you when the eagle flies Mother will you take me higher She sang it to a Native-American-sounding tune.
April 23 Mother Haraa I want to repeat "Mother Haraa" continuously day and night, waking and sleeping, working and playing, happy and sad, for better or worse, till death plays its part. The words come from a 1966 talk from my guru. He said: "The word Haraa is a form of addressing the energy of the Lord ... Haraa is the supreme pleasure potency of the Lord ... the spiritual potency ... the internal energy ... Mother Haraa." He never called her The Goddess. For him she was primarily Radha, Radhika, Radharani, Shrimati Radharani. His religion was built like a citadel, surrounded by a high wall displaying the majesty of God. But within the wall She was the deity, and love was all in all. April 25 The Masculine Fear of the Feminine Lorelei, Lorelei -her song entrances and then it horrifies. Lilith, Lilith -she's what Adam's troubles begin with. Jezebel, Jezebel -she'll jazz you all the way down to hell. Delilah, Delilah -you'll die if you lie down beside her. The Serpent, The Serpent -she sinuously spreads perversion. Emotion, Emotion -she's a monster at the bottom of the ocean. The Body, The Body -she's an enemy who's always plotting. The Female, The Female -she's laughing as she locks you in jail. A Woman, A Woman -has a selfish heart with no more room in. A Woman, A Woman -she's the Devil, that's what I'm assumin'.
A Woman, A Woman -her evil fire is always fumin'. A Woman, A Woman -her evil flowers are always bloomin'.
I hope it's clear from my other entries in this journal that I'm not affirming the point of view expressed in this diatribe. However, as a male person, I must admit that it was all too easy to assume the persona necessary to compose it. Is that little weasel within a product of nature or nurture? I don't know. In any case, it's clear that he has been with us for many a millennium.
April 26 Mangling While pruning a tall hedge along our northeast fence, I thought: o what a mangled world we wove when first we cut the sacred grove The original lines by Sir Walter Scott have been "mangled" many times, I learned later by Googling them. April 29 The Whole How about this. What if we were to consider God with relation to the spiritual world and not the material world. In that context, such designations as The Creator, The Source, The Origin, have no meaning. Those terms only refer to God's action upon matter, with God as an entity existing prior to material existence. In the spiritual existence, however, nothing is prior to anything else. Everything is eternal. There is no time, as we know time anyway. All entities in the spiritual world exist simultaneously eternally. No one "came before" the others. OK. But now, let's suppose that one of them contains the others. One of them is The Whole and the others are parts. That one, who is in a sense the only one, and the only existence, is God -- or Goddess.
April 29 Untitled "The Tonglen is an ancient Tibetan Buddhist meditation where the meditator openly invites in all the emotional pain they've avoided. This pain is brought into the heart and felt there. "Additionally all the pain of the world is also added to the meditator's pain. The meditator stays open to this pain, feeling all of it. Some simple breathing is done during this meditation. With each inhalation you take in the pain of the world and with each exhalation you release compassion, joy, and peace upon the world. "The Tonglen helps its practioners to face emotional pain, to become aware of pain in others, and to get used to sharing the good with others." -- Steve Mensing It may have been with this in mind that I wrote down these words: I'm in a pickle cuz I don't have a nickle. No I don't have a penny to my name. I could be famous and rich but I can't buy a sandwich. And they took away the dumpster that I'd claimed. Lord lift me up, I'm sinking in the muck. Lord give me hope, I'm at the dead end of my rope. My clothes are torn and tattered cuz my life dreams all were shattered. Oh, I lost my shirt when the tech bubble burst. Then my wife left with the kids and I went on the skids.
My sad life story went from bad to worse. Lord lift me up, I'm sinking in the muck. Lord give me hope, I'm at the dead end of my rope. My friends on the streets were CEOs and PHDs. Now we're all in the same old leaky boat. We're smoking used cigars and stopping people's cars t'polish headlights and try to stay afloat. Lord lift me up, I'm sinking in the muck. Lord give me hope, I'm at the dead end of my rope. There's a shelter over there, and they really seem to care. But the funds are running lower every day. With no pillow for my head I might as well be dead. No, there's nothing left for me and so I pray -Lord lift me up, I'm sinking in the muck. Lord give me hope, I'm at the dead end of my rope. April 30 The Form of The Whole What is the form of The Whole? Since you have to be outside a form to be able to see it, we cannot know what the form of The Whole is. We are inside it. It's like scientists speculating on the shape of our universe. We may have our theories, but it's really a mystery. The form of The Whole is eternally a mystery.
date? The Rooms As a youth, I thought the place where I lived was the only place. But then I bumped against a wall. Oh, I thought, this place isn't the whole world. It's a room. I walked along the wall. Before long I came to a window. So, I thought, there's an outside to this inside. But the view was foggy. I couldn't see much out there. Still, I thought, there must be a way of getting there. Before long I came to a door. It was locked. So I had to find the key. It took me a long time to find it. When I opened the door, I hoped I'd reached the outside. I couldn't tell at first. The place was so big compared to the room I'd left. (I kept the door open just in case I wanted to go back.) Eventually I discovered it was another room, with another window and door. The view out the window was clearer, but not clear enough to make out much detail. Again, after a long time finding the key, I left that room behind. Even the next place, though larger still, was a room. I left that one just a few days ago. Where I am now does look like what I saw out that window. Am I really outside, or is this just another room? All those doors behind me are still open. Sometimes I return, out of affection. But I know my true direction is forward. In every case, the trick has been finding the key. Do I need to find another key? Or are the ones I have in my hand now the only ones I'll ever need? May 3 Cheer Bo-ee-tay Hulla-munna-na-na Hey look, don't ask me. These things come to me, that's all. I like the feelings I have when I blurt them out, so I note them down.
May 3 Oh Mother Haraa Mantra Oh Mother Haraa My Mother Haraa Our Mother Haraa My Friends Holy Mother Haraa Haraa (Sanskrit) "Savioress" date? You Are the Mother of God You are worshipped, Holy Goddess, in every land, at every time, as a meadow sweet and modest, as a mountain hard to climb, as the storehouse of all wisdom, as the patroness of arts, as the atoms of the cosmos, as the passion in all hearts. You are the Mother of God. You are the power behind the throne. You are the force. You are the source. The form of the whole is your own. We often see you with your God, as consort of his majesty. You gladly serve the Supreme Lord, whose greatness is no fantasy. But the subtle silent secret fact is that you're the one who's in command. The Godhead's every marvelous act is manifested by your hand. You are the Mother of God. You are the power behind the throne. You are the force. You are the source. The form of the whole is your own. Only worship can be primal. Only worship, nothing else. Only worship, first and final,
gushing outward from itself. You are worship, pure devotion, casting off your dominance to set the worship wheels in motion and birth a partner for your dance. You are the Mother of God. You are the power behind the throne. You are the force. You are the source. The form of the whole is your own. Yin and Yang, the perfect couple, the two of you is what we see. But we are simply seeing double, while blinded to your mystery. Your paradox defeats our minds. How mild the mighty has become! Goddess, you have been so kind to leave the home where you were One. You are the Mother of God. You are the power behind the throne. You are the force. You are the source. The form of the whole is your own. date? Mother Earth Mantra Dearest Goddess Mother Earth -In your body mine takes birth. Thinking your thoughts is my worth -nearest Goddess Mother Earth. date? Radha Mantra Radha, Radha, baby on a lotus at first -Radha, Radha, you're the one who Krishna prefers. Radha, Radha, girl in love and our Mother Earth -Radha, Radha, you're the source of the universe.
May 11 Kirtan at Kashi We went to the Tuesday kirtan at Kashi tonight. I brought my tambura. It was a small group -- just six of us. Harmonium, hand cymbals, and tamboura. These were the mantras we sang: Kali Durge Namo Namah Kali Durge Namo Namah Kali Durge Namo Namah Kali Durge Namo Namah Yamuna Tira Bihari Vrindavana Sanchari Govardhana Giridhari Gopala Krishna Murari Kali Bina Ma Kali Jaya Jaya Uma Rama Brahmani Jaya Jaya Radhe Site Rukmini Jaya Jaya That's "Rama" with the accent on the second syllable -- the goddess, not the god. May 25 beach haiku o ocean mother let me touch the white fringes of your deep blue robe May 29 library ad Would you pay $16.10 a year for unlimited DVD rentals? Guess what. You already do. (Members of property tax paying households in Indian River County are levied a statistical average of $16.10 to run the Library System.)
And it's good for unlimited books, music CDs, audiobooks, and magazines too. (Hey, we'll even throw in Hi-Speed Internet computer use!) Come to the Library-It's the smart thing to do... May 31 Your Eyes your hair and the answer it gave made me your slave on the 10:30 boat your teeth signed a contract my dear as we sang "Chanticleer" in a land so remote a market of fantasies and silly delights why are we granted these on millions of nights your nails never wandered away and the lizards still play a sweet melody your gun it reflected the sun and remembered someone you might have set free why does the dust storm dance pirouettes why do the unborn never forget your eyes your eyes your eyes your eyes
June 6 Four Ladies Vajreshvari Vajreshvari Uma Ambika Chandika Vajreshvari June 11 Just a Flash "There is no time. It is all just a flash," my guru once said, one day in the past. Or was it tomorrow? I'm not making sense without putting my words in one temporal tense. But mystical vision can show us just how there is no division. Everything's now. The guru's eyes are opened wide. They see eternity inside. June 12 Byron Katie Here are some excerpts from Byron Katie's book, Loving What Is. "The more clearly you understand yourself and your emotions, the more you become a lover of what is." -Spinoza "We are disturbed not by what happens to us, but by our thoughts about what happens." -- Epictetus What's true is always what's happening, not the story about what should be happening.
We don't attach to people or to things; we attach to uninvestigated concepts that we believe to be true in the moment. Spare yourself from seeking love, approval, or appreciation -- from anyone. And watch what happens in reality, just for fun. The only time we suffer is when we believe a thought that argues with what is. All the stress that we feel is caused by arguing with what is. Being mentally in your business keeps me from being present in my own. I am separate from myself, wondering why my life doesn't work. To think that I know what's best for anyone else is to be out of my business. Even in the name of love, it is pure arrogance, and the result is tension, anxiety, and fear. Just to notice that you're in someone else's business can bring you back to your own wonderful self. And if you practice it for a while, you may come to see that you don't have any business either, and that your life runs perfectly well on its own. How much of your world is made up of unexamined stories? You never know until you inquire. Any stressful feeling is like a compassionate alarm clock that says, "You're caught in the dream." Above all else, inquiry is about realizing that all the answers we ever need are always available to us. When you do The Work, you see who you are by seeing who you think other people are. Eventually you come to see that everything outside you is a reflection of your own thinking. When you realize that every stressful moment you experience is a gift that points to your own freedom, life becomes very kind and abundant beyond all limits.
My experience is that the teachers we need most are the people we're living with now. Our spouses, parents, and children are the clearest masters we could hope for. Again and again, they will show us the truth we don't want to see, until we see it. What is already true is much better without any plan of mine. Love is so big that you can die in it -- die of self and be fully consumed by it. It's what you are, and it will have all of you back to itself again. My experience is that you can't drop a thought, because you didn't have it in the first place. The thoughts that used to send us into depression -- those same thoughts, once understood, send us into laughter. And it's nothing more than clarity. If I think that someone else is causing my problem, I'm insane. The problems stopped. I didn't stop them; they stopped. This is unconditional love, even though it's a totally selfish act. It's truth owning itself. Once this is experienced, self-love becomes so greedy that there's no limit to the people it can serve. That's why to love one person unconditionally is to love all people. In my experience, we don't make thoughts appear, they just appear. One day, I noticed that their appearance just wasn't personal. Noticing that really makes it simpler to inquire. It's the job of everyone in this world to judge. ...travel into the infinite mind... Reality is always kinder than the stories we tell about it. The answer to Question 4 ["Who would I be without this thought?"] can also leave us without an identity. This is very exciting. You're left with nothing and as nothing other than the reality of the moment ... it leaves no illusion of a past or future.
As long as you think that the cause of your problem is "out there" -- as long as you think that anyone or anything is responsible for your suffering -- the situation is hopeless. It means that you are forever in the role of the victim, that you're suffering in paradise. Who is more unkind -- Paul (who insulted you once today) or you (who multiplied his insult over and over again in your mind)? Your perceived enemy is the projection of your thinking. In discovering the innocence of the person you judged, you eventually come to recognize your own innocence. When you see how you have been preaching to others, go back and make amends, and let them know how difficult it is for you to do what you wanted them to do. ...list as many of your lies as you can remember and report them to that person... Apologize and make amends for your own sake. It's good to acknowledge that the same feelings or situation may happen again, if only in your thoughts. When you realize that suffering and discomfort are the call to inquiry, you may actually begin to look forward to uncomfortable feelings. Our thinking is all we need to change. It's all we can change. This is very good news. When we begin to live in reality and see it for what it is without our old stories, it's incredible. Look at this for a moment without a story. It's all reality: God. I call it God because it rules, it always is what it is. Every concept that has ever existed is inside you. It's not personal. After all these thousands of years, the thoughts are still in each of us, waiting to be met with some friendship and a little understanding finally, rather that with pills and running and hiding and arguing and sexing, because we don't know what else to do with them. When the thoughts arise, just meet them with some integrity.
There's no such thing as verbal abuse. There's only someone telling me a truth that I don't want to hear. If I were really able to hear my accuser, I would find my freedom. The "you" you're identified with doesn't want to be discovered, because that is its death. When someone tells me that I lied, for example, I just go inside to see if they're right. If I can't find it in the situation they've mentioned, I can find it in some other situation, maybe twenty years ago. And then I can say, "Sweetheart, I am a liar. I see where you're right about me." In this we've found something in common. I can find those pieces of who I am from them. This is the beginning of self-love. If your uncle says something that hurts, he's just revealed what you haven't wanted to look at yet. The man is a Buddha. Your uncle knows exactly what to say, because he's you, giving you back to yourself. In this process of inquiry, we're not dealing with people; we're dealing with thoughts and concepts, and people of all ages -- eight or eighty -- have the same concepts. Young or old, we believe concepts that through inquiry are seen to be nothing more than superstitions. I'm doing whatever you say I'm doing. I am your story of me -- no more and no less. Honey, the decisions will make themselves for you as you inquire. Nothing ever goes wrong in life. Life is heaven, except for our attachment to a story that we haven't investigated. What is is. I am not running this show. I don't belong to myself, and you don't belong to yourself. We are not ours. We are the "is." When you become a lover of what is, there are no more decisions to make. In my life, I just wait and watch. I know that the decision will be made in its own time, so I let go of when, where, and how. I like to say I'm a woman with no future. When there are no decisions to make, there's no
planned future. All my decisions are made for me, just as they're all made for you. When you mentally tell yourself the story that you have something to do with it, you're attaching to an underlying belief. We never receive more than we can handle, and there is always just one thing to do. Life never gets more difficult than that. How can you not think about something? It's thinking you. Meeting thought with understanding is as good as it's going to get. It will work. Thoughts appear. How are you going to meet them? That's all we're talking about here. When there's no decision, there's no fear, so I just enjoy the trip! It's already happening. Free fall. I have nothing to do with it. Maybe things are just moving right along, without our help. Life will give you everything you need to go deeper. Feel where your hands are. And your feet. This is good. Without a story, it's always good, everywhere you sit. This is about realization, not about changing anything. The world is as you perceive it to be. But when you meet your thoughts with understanding, the world changes. It has to change, because the projector of the entire world is you. You're it! A decision is made when it's made, and not one breath sooner ... But when you think you're supposed to do something with it and imagine that you're the doer, that's pure delusion. Just follow your passion. Do what you love. I don't let go of my concepts -- I meet them with understanding. Then they let go of me. Every thought, every person, every apparent problem is here for the sake of your freedom.
Until you can see everything in the world as a friend, your Work is not done. Everything happens for me, not to me. ...she believed in the after-death thing... But through inquiry, as we understand that death is just a concept and that our identity is a concept too, we come to realize who we are. This is the end of fear. It's terrifying to think you could lose control, even though the truth is that you never had it in the first place. Do you want to end karma? It's simple. I. I "am" -- is it true? Who would I be without this story? No karma whatsoever. And I look forward to the next life, and here it comes. It's called "now." The nightmare always becomes laughter, once it's understood. You go with inquiry into the darkness and find only light. Inquiry doesn't have a motive. It doesn't teach a philosophy. It's just investigating. June 12 Freedom Freedom is when you can do something without having to ask permission from somebody else. June 12 Unititled Demons attack others' weaknesses. Angels praise others' strengths. Demons attack angels for their inability to see weakness. Angels praise demons for their ability to do so. Demons win in this world. Angels win in heaven. But the one who neither criticizes weakness nor praises strength goes beyond this world and beyond heaven and lives in the ultimate reality.
June 13 Nausea Jean-Paul Sartre's 1938 work of fiction, Nausea, had a big influence on my college-atheist period. Out of curiosity, I just read it for a second time. Sartre presents a compelling, woozy view of reality. For him, the personal self is submerged within an endless, formless ocean of swirling sludge which is what Sartre calls "existence." The self imposes an imaginary structure onto this chaotic vat of goo. Creating the illusion of distinct things. Giving the things names. Assuming this dream of a logical, orderly world has the status of "necessity." Deluding itself into believing in a rational God giving meaning to it all. But it's not God. It's goo. It's always in a state of "contingency," an accident dependent on nothing but chance. Nor can we comfort ourselves by thinking it's Nothingness. Unfortunately it's really here all around us. A hideous, obscene somethingness. No wonder Sartre's anti-hero Roquentin is beset by attacks of nausea! But here's my predicament. I have been similarly attacked, over the past few years. That's why I re-read the book. It's given me some insight. My friend Mary attributes my dizziness to an excess of "attachment" to material things. Which is just the opposite of Sartre's analysis. I tend to agree with her. Sartre's "existence" confronts him as chaotic because of his attachment to a world he agrees is illusory. If he were to set himself loose into the mad, churning ocean, he would swim to the surface and see a divine land not far away. But instead he remains rooted in the thick mud on the dark bottom. Back in the days when existentialism was more popular, someone criticized Sartre and others as being "on the bottom looking down." Roquentin sits on a park bench, looking down at a chestnut tree's gnarled roots underneath, and philosophizes. Yes, he's too attached. I have been too attached. O Goddess! Teach me how to swim to your side! June 20 Executive Officer Items and articles, products and things, fragments and particles, downloaded rings,
boxes, percentages, dollars and clicks, folders of messages, concrete and bricks, logic, analysis, tables and graphs, mental paralysis, life under glass: multiply to the nth division. Mortify with tense precision. June 20 Jimmy's Rain Ma's son Jimmy died. Requiem aeternam dona eis. Et lux perpetua luceat eis. It was not a happy death. He killed himself. The funeral was up in New York. They said it was a heart attack. (No mass for suicides.) Ma went. She put some grave-dirt in an urn. Tonight she poured it in the pond. Her Florida ashram has a pond. She calls it the Ganges. The water embraced him. He joined the other dead. The ashes of hundreds are there. Ma comforts the dying. Ma blesses the dead. Ma's tears anoint them. The Ganges transports them. Jimmy's in the Ganges now. We gathered at six p. m. outdoors. The thermometer read mid-nineties. Large gray clouds kept the sun off. The ceremony began. We learned about Jimmy. He was ruled by his passions. They took him high, and low. One day he went too low. Ma told us about him. He had a great big heart.
His friends told us about him. He wasn't afraid to love. A hundred people in chairs listened. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. We sat stoically. The grief gripped us. We sat silently. Swamis in yarmulkes said Kaddish. The clouds filled the sky. The Earth Mother must have thought, "Why aren't they weeping? "Why aren't they wailing? "Where are the torrents of tears?" So the Great Mother cried for us. She opened the thick clouds. The rain poured down. It poured all over us. It ran over our heads, over our eyes, drenching our faces, making rivers of tears for us. We wept the Earth's tears. We wept for an hour. The rain fell heavy. We didn't walk away. We all got soaked. We all got to grieve openly. Our hot bodies got cold. Our neat clothes got sloppy. Our groomed hair got messy. We were reduced. And the Earth kept crying and crying, and we were part of the Earth's sorrow, part of another Ganges of tears. The Hindu priest stoked the ceremonial fire. The flames leaped up. Then the rain stopped. The incantations began, 108 names of the Goddess. But very close there was thunder. The Earth beat the death drums. We were not to be spared the threat.
Lightning flashed in the west. Thunder boomed in the east. The Mother held back the rain, but kept us reminded of death. After the chanting, after the singing, after the emptying of the urn from the boat into the pond, after the big fire and the little candles and the glorious fireworks (Jimmy loved fireworks) died down into darkness, a gentle rain began, a rain of compassion, a soothing rain of little precious drops like tender souls, like Jimmy's fragile soul, kissing us. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. July 9 At Night Mailboxes at night look like people when I rig up my rigamarole. Angels who leap from the steeple fall into my old begging bowl. Thirty-nine dollars in spare change turns left at a blinking red light, a suitcase of antique Ford Fairlanes exploding like fireworks at night. Darkness proceeds with good posture, with shoes that play radio songs, rejecting the ring that I bought her, a candidate cheered by the throngs. I cannot sleep in triplicate. At night my sheets are counterfeit.
July 19 No Such Thing There is no such thing as mind. Or the mind. Or my mind. Or yours. Mind does not exist as a thing or substance in itself. It's a word. That's all. Mind is a concept. It's a word that stands for a certain state of affairs. You might argue, "Well, if mind is a concept, then it must be comprehended by the mind, which therefore must exist." But I'd reply that the agent of comprehension is this: the soul. Which does exist as a thing in itself. But I'll qualify that. The soul isn't a thing. It's made of spiritual energy -- not limited by time or space, by material substance or material form. So I'll define mind as a situation where the spiritual soul exercises its consciousness within the material world while identifying itself as an aspect of the material world. The soul is the self. The self thinks, and feels, and is aware. That's your mind, as simple as that. The self is a spiritual body radiating consciousness, just as the sun is a material body radiating sunlight. Sunlight extends throughout the universe. So can the soul's consciousness. In its liberated state, it's not bound by duration or distance. However, in its conditioned state (conditioned by its identification with a particular material body), its consciousness is restricted, hemmed in, confined to a limited range of time and space. It's this kind of consciousness we refer to as "my mind." In special instances, "my mind" reaches out beyond "my body" and contacts the collective consciousness of all the living entities in the universe. In that privileged extra-sensory perception of cosmic consciousness, I realize that there is in truth only one "mind." To be more exact, there is only one consciousness, the consciousness-energy of the universal soul, of which all of us little souls and bodies are a part. Ultimately, then, "mind" is the aggregate of all the spiritual and material particles of the universe. It consists of both souls and bodies, a mixture of the two. In its total state, the
cosmic body-soul is aware of all the events in the universe. We partake of that cosmic body-soul. Bodies are many, souls are many, but the cosmic body-soul is one. In the spiritual world, consciousness is not condituioned by a false identification with matter. The souls are always liberated. We are fully developed spiritual bodies. Here, the body is the self. Each self is always participating in the lives of all other selves. Together we are participating in the life of the Super-Self, God. God is the whole. We are the parts. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts. The whole controls the parts. A similar situation takes place in the material cosmos. The universe is the whole and the conditioned souls are the parts, controlled by the one cosmic body-soul. We act out our parts in a drama that's already scripted, down to the last blink and notion. It's preferable to stop identifying with the cosmos, and start identifying with God, as the total context of my desires and activities. Only when I do that am I free to be myself, a real self. Only then does my unlimited nature expand out to the full range of ecstatic possibilities. Giving up my false ego and surrendering to God delivers me to who I am. I am a soul, in my natural element, in a world of nothing but souls and consciousness. It is all one substance and there is no such thing as "mind." August 8 The Forests of Vrindaban See Krishna's flashing feet as he runs -- oh, oh, how sweet -through the forests of Vrindaban with brother Balaram. Now watch them running arm in arm through the forests of Vrindaban. Their magic swirls around, and you can't tell what's up or down in the forests of Vrindaban.
Through shifting time and space, just keep your eyes on Krishna's face in the forests of Vrindaban. In Krishna consciousness all we want is to progress to the forests of Vrindaban. That's where a little boy is God, and radiates his joy to the forests of Vrindaban. See Krishna's flashing feet as he runs -- oh, oh, how sweet -through the forests of Vrindaban with brother Balaram. Now watch them running arm in arm through the forests of Vrindaban! August 8 Mother Mantra Mother Radha Mother Goddess Mother Mary Mother Of Us Mother Earth White Buffalo Woman Mother Love Primal Devotion August 10 Untitled Love is everything. She is the whole. There's nothing else other than her. But because she is Love, she must have someone to love. To accomplish that, she removes from herself that part of herself that is God, and manifests him as a separate person, which changes her into Goddess. Goddess and God are the lover and the beloved, the worshiper and the worshiped. Love's essential femininity remains in Goddess. But she has lost that aspect of herself that is now God, the masculine. Her loss is basic to her nature as Love. God, the Other, is the only masculine entity. We souls are part of the Goddess, the feminine. As such, we are lovers and worshipers. In order to love, we also must give up part of ourselves to another. Just as Goddess renounces her unity, so too must we offer part of ourselves to our beloved.
So we feel a loss, a grief, that some of me is gone. Yet we thrive on the bliss of joining with another. This mixture of sadness and joy is the essential emotion of the soul, as it is the essential emotion of Goddess, and of all religion. Those who speak of the tragedy of life are correct. Those who speak of the ecstasy of life are correct. Those who speak of the simultaneous tragedy and ecstasy of life are the most correct of all. But what good is any explanation? Life and love are mysteries. August 10 Untitled Bolusu Bo La-Tingi La-Wala Ki Lo Patanga Bu Rishni Bu Rishni Harbu Peecho La-Mama-Papa Toko Lama Toko Lama Prozha Nyaa, La Tay, La Mun Yay, Nuh-Nuh-Nuh Nyaa, La Tay, La Mun Yay, Nuh-Nuh-Nuh August 10 Untitled You................................. Dear Goddess Dear Loving Goddess Dear Mother Goddess August 10 Nightmane these ponderous hairs lugubrious and thick massed like boulders at the water's edge
pulling me down relentlessly into sleep August 15 Punta Gorda, August 14, 2004 woke up this mornin feelin awful mean n snarly home got destroyed by hurricane charley slept in a shelter on a blanket on the floor aint got nothin to my name no more trailer got leveled hundred forty mile winds took away everything except my sins i was just gettin ready for a real big push now im at the mercy of jeb n george bush im standin in the wreckage of my existence but im thinkin oh well it dont make no difference the same mother nature who stripped me bare will give me happiness yes enough to spare yes the hurricanes gone away now theres breezes like springtime thaws follow wintertime freezes the water's gone down from the twelve foot flood now ill make my footprints in the punta gorda mud nowhere to go but up one step at a time recapitulate the creatures evolutionary climb August 28 Untitled God is -- what is. God is -- love. What is -- is love. Love what is -that's all there is ! September 16 The Woodsman These are the ways of the woodsman, of the dweller in the forests of the wild. He can tell you if a trail is a good one. He can tell you if the winter might be mild.
Cutting cordwood is an art for the woodsman, and he stacks it very neatly by his house. But he's awkward when he's talking to a woman, so he cannot share his cabin with a spouse. Hear him pray for the love that's denied him! Feel his grief as he yearns for a mate! See him stand on the top of the mountain, looking skyward for an omen of his fate. But no wedding's in the cards for the woodsman. In his heart he is married to the wild. Mother Earth will take him to her bosom, and will teach him that the creatures are his child. These are the ways of the woodsman, of the dweller in the forests of the wild. He will tell you that his life is a good one. "Nature loves me," he will say with a smile! September 16 Fertility Spell Ficus Ficus Umbilicus Sacred Tree Sacred Womb Ficus Ficus Umbilicus He and She Sun and Moon October 3 Untitled Got a little rain from Hurricane Charley. Got 105 mph winds from Hurricane Frances. Got lots of rain from Hurricane Ivan. Got 120 mph winds from Hurricane Jeanne. Sebastian FL, where I live, got the worst of anybody from Frances and Jeanne. The town's a mess. Our house had 17 days without electricity. But we didn't get much damage. Lots of others here are now homeless. September 2004 -- we'll never forget it!
October 3 Please, No More Please, no more pictures of destruction from the latest hurricane -I have been driven to distraction by the sight of others' pain. May the good Lord send his mercy to all those who lost their lives -from the Islands to New Jersey, dry the tears of weeping wives. And to Florida's survivors whose houses were leveled flat -let us share a cup of kindness and put a dollar in the hat. Mother Nature showed her fury, and her justice is supreme -she was the judge, they were the jury: Charley, Frances, Ivan, Jeanne. October 3 Untitled
Written before the hurricanes:
Vicki – I've been wanting to respond to the Haim Harari article for some time. Family responsibilities have delayed me. (Thanks for the thoughtful card.) But now I have a few minutes. My intention is to show the importance of the Palestinian question as a consistent priority in militant Islamic fundamentalism, wherever it is found worldwide. Harari brushes off the role of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a factor in regions outside that immediate area. But the statements of principal players tell a different story. I suggest that Islamic terrorism has three major causes: European-American colonialism, the rise of fundamentalism in the "religions of the Book," and the presence of Israel as a
nation with Judaism as an established religion, a "Jewish state" that reduces non-Jews to a less privileged status. Colonialism shattered the economic, political, and psychological integrity of the Muslims. The resulting destitution was a fertile field for the growth of fundamentalism, with its promise of a return to a golden age. Then, the invasion of fundamentalist Jews, threatening access to holy sites in Palestine for Muslims everywhere, gave a flashpoint focus for militants. Harari begins one sentence with the promising expression, "The root of the trouble..." But he lets us down by continuing with, "...is that this entire Moslem region is totally dysfunctional..." without bothering to reveal the cause of the dysfunction. And thereby avoiding digging up the "root" at all. Towards the end of the piece he recommends a solution to the problem: fighting and education. One might assume, then, that for Harari the root of the trouble is a lack of educated Muslims. Of course, no liberal person will object to a better educated public. But I think we can improve on that in our search for the root. To be brief and much too general, the source of the mess is the desire for power over others, which infects all of us at some time or other, and some of us almost all the time. That may be too trite or obvious. But if we return to those days of yesteryear, let's say 1917, we may find some enlightenment in looking at the power relationships in Palestine. The British were pushing the Ottomans north. In London, Lord Balfour acceded to Zionist demands for a Jewish homeland in Palestine. The implementation was two-faced. As British Foreign Minister Jack Straw said recently (New Statesman, 11.02), "The Balfour Declaration and the contradictory assurances given to Palestinians in private at the same time as they were being given to the Israelis -again, an interesting history for us, but not an honourable one." Two years later at the Paris Peace Conference, the Palestines fared no better. Faisal I, the leader of the Arab delegation, signed an agreement with Chaim Weizmann,
leader of the Zionists, seconding the plan of a Jewish homeland. Both men displayed their contempt for Palestinians, publicly insulting them as stupid, incompetent, less than Jews, and not real Arabs at all. The Palestinian response was the "Jerusalem Pogrom of April, 1920." The anti-Jewish riots throughout the city, finally quelled by the British, resulted in a few deaths and a few dozen injuries. That was in effect the beginning of Palestinian terrorism. It didn't begin in 1964 with the birth of the PLO. It didn't begin with the "Munich Massacre" of September 1972 at the Summer Olympics. It certainly didn't begin with the Intifada of the 1990s. It's been going on since 1920. As such, the Palestinian situation is by far the longest-running conflict in the Muslim world wherein nongovernmental groups and individuals commit acts of violence against the armed forces and the citizens of a nation. Palestinian terrorism, and its purpose of destroying a state that not only discriminates against Muslims but also seeks to evict them from ancestral Muslim holy lands, is at the heart of Islamic terrorism worldwide. Local considerations in Algeria, Libya, Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Indonesia, the Phillippines, and so on, apply. Algeria rebelled against France. Iran rebelled against a British-American puppet Shah. Saudi Arabia hasn't had a rebellion yet, but it's the hotbed that brews the strongest (Wahhabi) flavor of Islamic fundamentalism, and surely due for big trouble. Notwithstanding local considerations, the Palestinians' plight motivates terrorists from all these countries. Osama bin Laden, who put together Al Qaeda out of the mujahadeen he fought with in the US- supported struggle against the Soviets in Afghanistan, was furious when US troops were allowed into Saudi Arabia in 1990. He urged a boycott of American products. Why? "When we buy American goods," he said, "we are accomplices in the murder of Palestinians." A May, 2004, news report from Syria by Kim Ghattas of the BBC stated that "The austere Wahhabi brand of Islam
practiced by Osama bin Laden is also growing and clerics are calling for jihad in Iraq and Palestine." Abassi Madani is the leader of Algeria's FIS, the Front Islamique du Salut, and a co-founder of that country's Armed Islamic Movement, whose initial fighters had been mujahadeen in Afghanistan. The FIS won the national election in 1992, but was not allowed to take power. In a letter of November 26, 1999, Madani wrote, "I hear the cries of those who forge history, of those who change the world, like the stone- throwing children of Palestine and Algeria..." In June of 2002, in Khartoum, Sudan, Nur Misuari spoke before a meeting of Islamic foreign ministers. He is the Chairman of the Central Committee of the Moro National Liberation Front, which seeks to establish a Muslim state in the southern Phillippines. "The situation of the Bangsamoro people," he said, "cries to the conscience of the Muslim World Leadership for we are in no better position than our brothers in occupied Palestine ... Brother President Yaser Arafat is a prisoner just like me and the objective of both actions is to destroy the Palestinian and the Bangsamoro leadership to liquidate the Palestinian and the Bangsamoro struggles." I could go on. Day after day, over the years, the leading figures of militant Islam in all countries have referred to Palestinian terrorism as the justification for their own. The Palestinians were first. Even though, in practical terms, as a people they are not held in high esteem among Arab Muslims, they were the first to strike out against the infidels, and they are respected for that. The primary inspiration for Muslim terrorism worldwide is the control of Jerusalem and other holy sites in Palestine (and the violent disenfranchisement of the Palestinian people) by a nation with a state religion that at best pushes Muslims down to a second-class status, and at worst slaughters them in its violent pursuit of a fundamentalist dream, the renewal of the glory of an ancient age as depicted in The Book. Because the United States provides the weapons with which Israel carries out this project -- a project that in fact insults the principles upon which the US is founded -- our country too is marked for destruction. Thus September 11, 2001.
Like Harari, we also ask, "What can we do about it?" He wants to educate the youngsters and eliminate the oldsters. Since the fundamentalists are already intensely educating the youngsters, who will in turn become oldsters, this just sounds like a recipe for the "permanent warfare" so beloved of our neoconservatives. That has the advantage of squinty-eyed realism. Who can change human nature, after all. Let's mow 'em down before they mow us down. In contrast, I look forward to some perhaps idealistic measures. They require changes in, if not human nature, at least human attitudes. First, the US government should heavily subsidize the development of energy systems based on renewable sources. In our present stage of colonialism, we buy oil, paying the money to dictators (particularly in Saudi Arabia) who do not use it to improve the lives of their subject peoples. We also give huge sums to Israel, supposedly to maintain a strategic base in the Mideast. But the only reason for doing that is to keep the oil flowing our way. This must stop. Second, corrupt rulers will lose power after the gravy train dries up. With international assistance, new democratic governments can be built. The people in general will benefit. Along with an easing of poverty and disenfranchisement will come a new sense of pride and self worth. Fundamentalism and its dream of restoring past glories will lose its grip on the minds of the people. Religion can return to its essence as a way of love, not a way of hatred. Third, to put it bluntly, if Israel does not become a secular state with equal rights for all citizens, the US should cut off aid to that country. Our national interest is not served by supporting a nation with an established religion. Our founding fathers did not want to continue the religious conflicts that scarred England and Europe for centuries. Why should we fund a similar situation in a Mideast nation today? The Zionist experiment, no matter how much sympathy it finds in our hearts, has failed. Until the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is resolved, our "war on terrorism" will come to nothing except more war. Thanks, Daniel
October 3 Photograph Dreams 1959 Lili St. Cyr -Queen of the Strippers, in silks that were sheer, you danced and I quivered. Diane Webber -Queen of the Nudes, you were bare altogether, as you posed for my moods. Photograph Dreams -you took me away to a place where it seemed I was King for a day -or a slave for an eternity to your metaphors of Liberty. October 13 The Best Part The best part of us walks to the light, to a radiant tapestry in the mystery world where laughing babies dance around heedlessly. Settling there, we take vows earnestly. Prepared, we journey to the temple of giants whose robes tremble in the dark constellations. They teach us names. We cling tight, and ride the names, the horses, the vehicles, the winds, to the feet of the lady. She welcomes us sweetly to the timeless earth. In the forest we hear a flute song, our hearts fulfilled.
It is the best life of the best part of us. October 24
I entered this review of Eyes Wide Shut into the IMDB site on August 2, 1999.
Animals in Chains What a frustrating and magnificent film! Here again, as in all of Kubrick's other movies, humans are coping with their animal urges by keeping them in chains, but there's always a weak link. Dr. Bill is a true mechanical man, despite his job as a healer of bodies. But he can't suppress dat ol' debbil. Even worse, he can't forgive his wife Alice for her fantasized infidelity. A study of men and women -- the woman holds the high ground because of her compassion, and her honesty, which includes her acceptance of her animality. The script's last word, the f-word, is K's last hope for returning to our lost essence. God, those skin tones! Kubrick's use of available light and high speed film raises primitive technique to sublime sophistication. But that's the point, isn't it. The naked ape creates stunning mechanisms -- laws, social norms, movies -- in a hopeless attempt to purify human existence. Kubrick grins sardonically, but can't stop joining in. Here he creates another elegant and sad monument to the ridiculous human experiment. A fitting wrap to the career of a genius. October 24 Transportation Desist, if you please, the rhetoric of despair. It's just a bad habit and it leads nowhere. Engage, right now, in the rhetoric of bliss. It will transport you like a lover's kiss.
October 24 You'll be there You're the ones I talk to. You're the ones who hear. You're the ones who help me conquer all my fear. You are right beside me everywhere I go. And when this life is over you'll be there, I know. October 24 Untitled Radha-Krishna-Love is an ocean of pleasure. Strip off your inhibitions and dive in! Your body will tingle and vibrate with thrills of joyful ecstasy! October 24 Untitled All that was lost has now been discovered. All that was hidden has now been uncovered. All who were blind have regained their sight. Now no one is wrong. Now everyone's right. November 2 Untitled When I feel AGONIZING ECSTASY I know I'm in the right place.
November 2 Shine On Oh aging man with balding pate, you husband every hair, neglecting your crown's naked state: the glory of its glare! November 2 Wet How dry -to be a slave to machines and obligations. Now dive -into the waves of your dreams and throbbing passions! November 11
I wrote these two pieces for two newsletters -- the first, for the one on the back of the monthly Library calendar, the second, for the Friends of the Library semi-annual newsletter.
A Storehouse of Meaning We've been through a lot. So many of us lost our homes. Some still don't have telephone service. Two "hundred- year" hurricanes three weeks apart have given us a mighty beating. During the worst days, the Library was designated a Comfort Station. Our air conditioning gave hundreds of people relief from the late summer heat. Our internet access allowed them to contact family and friends, and to do business. Stressed and fatigued residents came in just to sit a while. Yes, the Library is an oasis. A place away from the storms that batter us -- more than usual recently, but every day, every year, a place to gather our thoughts. Where the life of the mind is lived, in contemplative reading or animated discussion. At the Library, at somewhat of a distance from
the outside world, we can begin to make sense of the world. Or gain the strength to return to it with a fresh outlook. Tempests come and go. The Library continues on, sustaining our community, a storehouse of meaning, always ready for us when we need it most. Personal Computing It doesn't take long to say what the big event was since the last Friends newsletter -- the hurricanes! And the Library's personal computing section came to the rescue for hundreds of local residents whose home computers were not working. Into the Library they came, seeking help. They wanted to send emails to family, friends, and business associates. They wanted to apply for assistance to insurance companies and government agencies. Or they just wanted to come in and sit down, surf the web, and get away from it all for a while. A designated Comfort Station, the Library was able to give them what they needed. How the Library has changed! In addition to our traditional offerings of information and recreation, we now offer communication. The Internet is the difference. In October, 19% of the people walking into the Library did so in order to use our PCs. Almost one out of five! People tend to think of a library as a place containing things to look at, or to take home to look at. But now there's something new -- interactivity. That's the foundation of community. And when disaster strikes, the Library brings the community together as it helps us get our lives back together through networking. November 11 Notice To Beachfront Property Owners There'll always be an ocean. There'll always be a beach. But the property you live on might go sliding out of reach. A shoreline isn't stable. It wanders in and out. You might win, you might lose. Your future is in doubt. You can make that gamble.
You can take that chance. But don't ask me to replace what you lose by circumstance! A futile war -- when human hands attempt to ward off shifting sands. November 11 Hide The Evidence When I control, making words rhyme, I'm digging a hole to conceal a crime. I'm oh so clever, and oh so smart, because I can sever my brain from my heart. This tapestry of verbal play is a travesty, and so I say, no more machine, no more constructing. I'll come clean. No more corrupting. November 11 Pillow Chapters engine tinker day by day calling out with silent tongue stomach dizzy, can't you see this is not reality dreams are real (God's in control) waking time is just a test choosing A B C or D holds me captive? sets me free? tender mission once revealed what we thought is now reversed pillow chapters target glee nearing the immensity travel searching in the dark plenty money, goodness knows trigger-happy, content-free hello baby look at me!
November 14 Hero, Washington, and Life Tandem refugees outsmarted. Ignorant Pep Boys! In wriggly fol-de-rol, why not on the chewing? Try me, you'll see. Winter has its charms! Onward Gloggle Meister, trouble you for a light? Hero, Washington, and Life, Hero, Washington, and Life, Hero, Washington, Hero, Washington, Hero, Washington, and Life! (Tenderness paradise, troglodyte muse, karnaamrita far out megalith.) November 17 Non Fic, Non Sen How Fac, Wie Pog, Red Cro, Abo Ler; Gir Kin, Mil Koi, Met Nor, Rit Ber. The library's non-fiction books are organized numerically, with the first three letters of the author's last name under the Dewey number. On the end panel of every shelf, the range of books on that shelf is displayed. These three-letter syllable-pairs occur on shelf ends near my desk. November 17 Untitled like a dreamer held by a dream be innocent before the world be inspired by the greatness no matter how it comes to you
November 17 Bricks Build a wall of words. Time will topple bricks. Better, build a path of bricks that hug the ground -who wants walls anyway? November 20 gettin there GETTIN there can be a problem but BEIN dead aint so bad you still have a body and senses you can see and you can feel and go places too -- anywhere -in your real body not skin and bones in your real body of consciousness yes when the corpse falls away dead youre still there like always so you've crossed over the bridge NOW what are you goin to do where are you goin to go well gettin THERE can be a problem too but at least you dont have to worry about bein snuffed out by time youre eternal baby live with it
November 20 music cmon get in the car were picking up our friends were getting out of town before the next one hits everything here is cardboard soaking wet, flimsy but weve got each other we can make a new start out there where the road goes all we care about is music all we want is music November 20 Buy and Sell The Dutch were good traders. "You give us Manahatta, and we'll give you the thirty pieces of silver the Romans gave Judas." They set up a battery of cannons on the prow of the island, just in case anybody wondered who's in charge here. In 1964 I walked into the Battery Park terminal building. It was a big round room ringed with huge advertisements up above your head. The one given pride of place was for girdles by Gossard. The engirdled model lured you in, saying, "You give me your soul, and I'll give you the crown of thorns the Romans gave Jesus." Buy and sell, fry in hell.
November 20 Bigger They call it lucid dreaming, being awake while you're asleep. Well, maybe that's lucidity, but it isn't dreaming. Dreaming isn't lucid, it's loose. You're set loose on the waves, and they take you where they go. The waves are bigger than you. You have to surrender. What kind of wave you catch depends on what you did before, when you were awake. That's your lucidity. Then the dream takes you on to reality, which is bigger than you. November 20 The Old Timers No one was alive before thirty years ago. Everything was made of photographs. And even if they had been alive then, they were all assassinated by wackos who knew The Answers to humanity's problems. November 20 My Gut My heart said, "Take care of her." My gut said, "Take care of yourself." I spent some time taking care of myself. Then I looked for her, but she'd gone away. Now I'm all alone, and all I've got is my gut.
November 20 Why Why do I write poems? But writing isn't the point. The point is, the poems talk to me. I just write them down to shut them up. November 23 Exhumed Entanglements Not pretty, the target area. Too much in the gloaming. Terrific bundles of trash. But why open the box? "You know," she said slyly. "History will be your comeuppance, wild folk of the woods. New developments will be announced on the birthday of your death. Do not consult your calendars. Contemplate your navels and escape. Escape my vengeance, my wrath. And escape your own." She departed, leaving only the wind. November 23 The Threat Watch out boy, in your clean white shirt. Should you be in this world? Greasy chains swing randomly in the darkness, threatening to destroy your tidy prayers.
November 24 To Be Alive We hiked up the dark gray rock ridge along with the other tourist families, caressed by wandering light gray clouds drifting among us like big ghostly dogs. When we got to the viewing platform, the famous mountaintop was obscured. For me the only notable sight was the yellow hair of my little daughter as she played on the wide stone shelf, running, laughing, happy to be alive. November 25 A Pariah's Prayer Kicked out of bars, kicked out of clubs, kicked out of meetings, kicked out of homes, despised and rejected, forlorn and ashamed, I take refuge in Thee, I take refuge in Thee. December 2
I wrote the first version of this piece for the Sebastian Sun about 14 years ago. This year I wrote another version for the local library's monthly newsletter. Here's the latest version. It strives to explain how an area in northeast Indian River County, Florida, came to be called Wabasso.
How Wabasso Got Its Name The name "Wabasso" has an interesting history. It first saw print in 1856. That was in Longfellow's poem Hiawatha. There, a hero returns "From the land of the White Rabbit, / From the kingdom of Wabasso." The spelling must have been on people's minds when they wrote a certain Georgia Sea Island's name as "Ossabaw," which is clearly Wabasso spelled backwards. Previous spellings included Usuba, Usaba, Hussopa, and Hussabau. They were all attempts at writing down the name of the principal village of the island, which is now thought to be more accurately spelled "Asapo."
All of these have been attempts to render the way the local Guale Indians spoke the village's name. Many Guales moved to Florida during the 16th and 17th Centuries. There's been speculation that some of them settled in our area. A connection between the two places does exist. The word Asapo means "the yaupon holly place." Yaupon holly has red berries used to make a tea that the Guales drank in their religious ceremonies. The same practice was common to the Ais Indians who lived here, as reported in Jonathan Dickinson's Journal. So the Guales would have fit in. Their Asapo was here too. Unfortunately, I've found no evidence that the Ais also called it Asapo. And no account of exactly who named the place Wabasso. Or when it was so named. But settlers started moving here in the 1860s, when Longfellow was the nation's most popular poet. At that time it was the Seminoles who greeted them, not the long-gone Gaules or Ais. Still, the place name Asapo may have stuck. And the settlers, reciting Hiawatha, may have heard in "Wabasso" a sound close enough to "Asapo" to make it good enough for them as the name of their new home on the Atlantic coast of Florida. December 2 Titled Three book titles -- the titles are enough -- no need to say more. The Body of God: Physical Pleasure, Happiness, and Spirituality The Body of Satan: Physical Pain, Unhappiness, and Materialism The Null Point: Conflict Avoidance and Eternal Youth December 4 Salt 25 Minutemen, ordinary blokes -wondering where it all ends. Terrible performances. Give it all up! Pocket linings lying in a heap. Voyage to the ocean, saved in a day -grace in between time uncontrolled. Soda crackers, soda crackers, soda crackers, living in harmony with the world.
In Rapturis Quod Ellis Island -"Welcome partner, what's your name." Well of course they all knew my name, they just wanted to hear me sing it: "Let me be your salty dog, let me be your salty dog, honey let me be your salty dog." December 5 7:41 pm all of us luminous water over stone dominus deus the painter December 6 Untitled A huge number of vehicles from a large outlying area can funnel into a small urban area because the city has a higher density of streets. Similarly, a huge number of thoughts from the immense universe can fit into your body because your body has a higher density of neural pathways. Your body is a concentration of the universe. December 6 Untitled Did the Chumash learn to swim accidently? No, the Chumash learned to swim on porpoise. December 9 Untitled Chey Meyney Hey Teykey Bey To me, a satisfying sequence of sounds - the "ey"s are English long "a" sounds. December 9
Peruse I was speaking about the insatiable demand: inviolable cheroot Thursdays and trigger-happy concubines waltzing on, on, into the night power. Farquhar knew about it, didn't he. Silly chasms get up and go on a trickle chores knockwurst Steubenville slow climb up to heaven, dog it! It's word jazz. I'm not striving for Surrealism. It does start with words from a dream and continues in that mode. But it's all nonsense. The emphasis is on pure sound -- the music of words, the rhythm of phrases. December 11 Freedom The Prisoner of Fantasy Has Been Released Into the Custody of the Reality of the Body of God December 18 article for the library's January newsletter Laura Riding Jackson No matter what the Environmental Learning Center decides to do about the hurricane-damaged Laura Riding Jackson house, you can always look over many of her books here at the Library. Be warned, though -- they're not easy reading! This late resident of Wabasso was a literary phenomenon of sorts in the 1920s and 1930s. Laura Riding's poetry made a good impression on the critics of the time. After partnering with the better-known writer Robert Graves in England and Spain, in 1939 she gave it up. A marriage added Jackson to her name. Escaping the limelight, she and her husband moved to Wabasso, shipping fruit from their orange grove to customers up north. They cooperated on her last book, Rational Meaning. When she passed away in 1991, she'd almost been forgotten. But recently scholars have been finding much of interest in her works. Maybe you will too!
December 18 Untitled Nothing makes any difference. Everything is Krishna. December 26 WLS: Worship Love Service Nature worships. Nature is Worship. I worship Nature. I worship Worship. Nature loves. Nature is Love. I love Nature. I love Love. Nature serves. Nature is Service. I serve Nature. I serve Service. Worship Love Service is the whole, the origin, the ultimate, the supreme. Worship Love Service manifests God to worship, love, and serve God. Goddess Nature is Worship Love Service as the feminine counterpart of God. The rustling of leaves in the wind, the rushing of water over rocks, the wheeling of stars through the night, the placement of feet on pavement, are suffused with Worship Love Service, in perfumed remembrance of the source. Worship Love Service is feminine, but not the kind we know about. That feminine contains the masculine, although she is not androgynous. She's a paradox. Invisible, but inescapably obvious everywhere. Jai Radhe! December 27, 2004
Here You Are I look at you, dear Goddess. Everything in the world is You. You are the atoms of the universe. You are the atoms of my body. Your substance is visible to me. I talk to you, dear Goddess. I talk to everything in the world. I address everything as You. I convey my thoughts to You. Matter is your divine body. Immediate and close, here and now, tangible, present to all my senses, you are in my life and of it, obvious, simple, effortlessly reached, pure, you are the one I talk to, You. January 18, 2005 To Yoou My Yoou To Yoou My Yoou To Yoou My Yoou To Yoou My Yoou To Yoou My Yoou January 30 You Are The Creator You are the Creator. To be exact, You are the Creatrix. You are the whole of whom we are parts. You are EWEU -- The Eternal, The Whole, The Everything, The Ultimate. You are feminine but you include masculinity. You are Energy. You are the potential energy that becomes actual energy, the pre-existence that becomes existence, invisible, yet the storehouse of all the particular details of existence all at once together. You are everything all at once. You are Chaos.
You are Perpetual Motion. You are the One who yearns to be one of two. You are the cell ready for mitosis. You are the One Hypostasis who becomes two, Goddess and God. You pull Your masculinity out of Yourself and make it God. The larger portion of Yourself remains as Goddess. As Goddess You are the material cause, the substance, of all further manifestations. As God You are their efficient cause, their controller. You are Love. You are Worship. You are Sex. You are a person. You are the essence of Personhood. You are without any single name because You are all names. You are without any single form because You are all forms. You are without any single quality because You are all qualities. You are the foundation of the spiritual world where we play eternally with Your blissful names, forms, and qualities. You are everything. You are whatever has been said correctly about the Supreme Being. You, the Egg, came first before the chicken. February 4 The Ultimate We watched In the Mirror of Maya Deren (2002, Martina Kudlacek). Among the people interviewed was Chao-Li Chi. He said: "The ultimate form is that which has no form. This is not supposed to be a paradox. Because what has no form is when a shape is in motion, is in constant change. So that which is in constant motion contains all forms." Maya Deren said, "Art actually is based on the notion that if you would really celebrate an idea or a principle, you must think, you must plan, you must put yourself completely in the state of devotion, and not simply give the first thing that comes to your head." A friend of hers said, "She didn't expand what she knew -she went down into it." February 12
Purring Tiger Bill Mannetti, president, Animal Rights Front, writes: Purrs are deep sounds, ranging from 20 to 150 hertz (cycles per second). Housecats typically purr at 20 to 50 Hz. The smaller figure of this decidedly "low frequency" range happens to coincide with the lower limit of what is audible to the human ear (the upper limit is 20,000 Hz). More important from the feline perspective, however: low frequency sounds promote health and healing. ...sound frequencies at 20 to 50 Hz - precisely the frequencies of a housecat purring - increase bone density growth, induce the healing of injured tendons and muscle, and relieve pain. Tigers, although not known to actually purr, produce low frequency sounds - some that humans cannot hear. Although most of their vocalizations are within the 40 to 60 Hz range, tigers occasionally create rumbling sounds of 18Hz, doubtless important for tiger-to-tiger communication. Any sound frequency below 20Hz constitutes "infrasound" and travels especially well. It not only covers long distances (up to seven miles) but also penetrates desne forests and even goes through mountains. The tiger's infrasonic communication resembles that of the more thoroughly researched elephant, two-thirds of whose vocalizations are infrasound. Giraffes, alligators, hippos, and rhinos also produce infrasound: and many other species likely do as well. February 13 Infinity When Infinity formed God out of a part of herself, they became Existence -- Goddess and God -- Infinity minus One. February 14 Thomas Frank
"...his family remained steadfastly Republican, voting like the people they wanted to be rather than the people they were." "...the new Republican masses, who raise their voices in praise of Jesus but cast their votes to exalt Caesar." Don't miss Thomas Frank's bestseller, What's the Matter with Kansas?. Find out how jus' plain folks are being duped into political martyrdom, serving the corporate interests that destroy their lives. How the Republicans fuel righteous indignation against liberals, presenting them as wealthy, valueless, intellectual oppressors. How they convince voters to ignore economics and concentrate on social issues, that is, "moral" issues. How deception has won the day, and tomorrow doesn't look so good either. February 28 James G. Cowan "...the divine disorder lying beneath the surface of manifestation." -- James G. Cowan, The Elements of the Aborigine Tradition March 5 The Ocean It's always Saturday. It's always Sunday. It's always every day of the week. I don't care what you say, I want to run away and find a time that's truly unique. David Brinkley's dead. There is no talking head around to take his place. There is no Murrow Ed. There is no Friendly Fred. The news is lost in space. I haven't been alive since nineteen fifty-five, an adolescent year. I'm trapped inside a hive of old-time jazz and jive repeating in my ear. There's only history. There is no mystery. I'm just a sum of all my parts. Familiar memory embraces all of me. I'm done before I start.
Forgive my restless mood. I'm tired of certitude, of knowing what is what. I'm chewing stuff that's chewed. Leftovers do for food. Give me confusion! Stir up the pot! I have had happiness. I should give thanks, I guess, that I have known some truth. But still I must confess I want to make progress beyond the corpses of my youth. I yearn for something more. My heart wants to explore outside the house I've built. I'm opening the door to hear the ocean's roar, and wear its spray, like silk. So here's my plan today. I'm going to sail away on an ocean full of Om. I'll chant Hare Hare. The sound will point the way to You, my You, my home. March 6 Moonlight Arabesque my knee as seen on TV pays homage to thee in a moment of bliss my toe will not sing Old Black Joe so I really must go don't remind me of this moonlight arabesque fingers on my desk my car i retrieved from afar but the mountains of tar saw a stock market slump my cap with a velveteen nap and a stainless steel snap found a farm with a pump moonlight arabesque fingers on my desk ballet in the Tuileries embroidered napkins if you please jeweled-bridled prancing horses union of opposing forces my lute and my licorice flute so urbane and astute spread the canopy wide my craft painted red fore and aft thought my elbow quite daft as my ears fought the tide moonlight arabesque fingers on my desk
ballet in the Tuileries embroidered napkins if you please jeweled-bridled prancing horses union of opposing forces union of opposing forces March 7 Fritjof Capra "Eastern art forms, too, are forms of meditation. They are not so much means of expressing the artist's ideas as ways of self-realization through the development of the intuitive mode of consciousness." Fritjof Capra, The Tao of Physics March 8 Untitled Present the things -- in such a way that the presentation invokes The Everything. Present the parts -- in such a way that the presentation invokes The Whole. Present the finitudes -- in such a way that the presentation invokes The Infinite. March 13 The Rock Bottom Growling of the Deep Rumbling World [Thought fragments about deep-toned "throat singing," which really comes from below the throat -- sometimes I can feel its vibration in my toes. To me, this Deep Rumbling invokes a sense of The Everything.] It is here, yearning to come through. Let's get to the bottom of things. When I settle down into existence, something good comes up. The Deep Droning Deep Rumbling Tiger Purring Slow Ride on a Purring Tiger The Wholebody Vibration
Deep Pulmonary Growling Deep Rumbling World Lion Purring Rumble Ground Breathing The Dormancy The New Death Rattle March 13 The Hidden Potentiality Potentiality, always reaching toward actuality, is defined by Love, the yearning for another. Potentiality-Love doesn't obliterate itself to become the other. It is a flow, a moving energy, an urge, directed beyond itself, that maintains the integrity of both itself and its object. Each person is dual: a potential person and an actual person. I'm conscious of my actual self, but not of my potential self. Both selves are eternal. The two worlds, the potential and the actual, are adjacent to each other. My actual self is always accompanied by my self of infinite possibilities. The potential world is horizontal. The actual world is vertical. In the actual world, the higher forms are closer to the potential world. In this case, "height" indicates degree of religious ecstasy. Goddess and God are the highest forms. The potential world is liberal, the actual is conservative. Each existing item in the actual world (including every false idea) has its hidden counterpart in the potential world. And potentiality -- infinity -- is the source of yet more items, which surprise the actual world when they arrive here. The terms "spiritual" and "material" make no sense to me any more, except as descriptions of human attitudes. Spirituality means an awareness of The Whole. Materialism means cutting out a portion of The Whole and giving that a preferred status. Thus, sectarian religions are materialistic. They limit the truth to a certain tradition, ritual, scripture, and so on. Nevertheless, acts of devotion are carried out in an environment of specifics. I'm not advocating a "contentless mysticism," as someone once called it. To love God in a specific way is spiritual if I know that like all actual forms, the
God I worship has his counterpart in the potential world. So instead of talking about the spiritual world or the material world, I speak of potentiality and actuality. They're both spiritual if understood properly. The actual world is graded into a vertical hierarchy. Sitting at the bottom are illusions and miseries. At the top we find the blissful truth, Goddess and God. In the potential world the forms are not graded. They're all equal, that is, horizontal. Furthermore, the potential world is One Person. All phenomena in the actual world are eternal, from dog to God. So you see, this is not that "material world" you've heard about. The "material world" is the actual world as seen by a materialist. It's a mistake. In most religions, the goal is to leave the "material world" and go to the "spiritual world." But we never leave the actual world. We choose where we want to be in the actual world. A smart choice is to be with Goddess and God, who are actual persons. The other world, the potential world, sustains actuality -- as a battery sustains a flashlight bulb. Both the battery and the bulb are necessary for the light to shine. March 14 Potentialism Neither one, potentiality or actuality, is more real than the other. Reality is made up of both of them together. In relation to each other, it might be said that potentiality is Yin and actuality is Yang. In the potential world, the feminine rules. In the actual world, the masculine rules. This is what is meant by saying, "she is the power behind the throne." Thinking that, in the actual world, things die, that people die, that I die, is a mistake. Nothing here disappears. Everything here exists eternally. Each atom is as eternal as God. Things here are always alive. There is no non-existence. The other world, the potential world, is pre-existence. I don't die. Or, my moment of "death" is already on the ledger. So, now that I know I'm already dead, I can really start to live. A clear continuum stretches unbroken from illusion to truth, from despair to divinity, from garbage to God. The entire
range consists of one substance: actuality. No dividing wall separates "matter" from "spirit" as if they were two countries. It's not that garbage is "matter" and God is "spirit," and one must change one's identity to get across the border. While traveling from ignorance to knowledge, we journey across a continuous landscape, a single country, made of actuality. Perhaps it could be caled "matter" because it's filled with forms. Or "spirit" because it's eternal. In any case, it's all one substance. Duality enters the picture with the difference between The Potential and The Actual. But then, you see, The Potential doesn't exist -- yet. So, is it really a duality? March 18 Quantumism ...the "physical vacuum" -- as it is called in field theory -- is not a state of mere nothingness, but contains the potentiality for all forms of the particle world. -- Fritjof Capra, The Tao of Physics If the universe came from "nothing," then perhaps nothing was not perfectly empty but had a slight amount of symmetry breaking, which allows for the slight dominance of matter over antimatter today. The origin of this symmetry breaking is still not understood. -- Michio Kaku, Parallel Worlds When one knows that the Great Void is full of ch'i, one realizes that there is no such thing as nothingness. -- Chang Tsai, quoted by Capra March 19 Untitled Deep Rumbling is an internal organ massage.
March 20 Quantum Universe
I'm caught in a quantum universe. While I'm going forward, I'm also in reverse. How can I be a genius and also a dunce ? No problem. I can be in two places at once ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! I am a probability wave. My name might be Daniel, or Derek, or Dave. My body might be very large, or even very small. Consider this: I might not -- be here at all ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! I just got back from visiting a world so far away. I got there through a wormhole and came back in a day. While in that other universe I lived a million years and strummed upon a Superstring the music of the spheres. I used to be as solid as a rock. But now an expert tells me, all atoms are is thoughts ! There's nothing to hold onto, not even time or space. I'm in a cosmic cyclotron -- observing my own face ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Quantum Universe ! March 29 Every Little Thing Every little thing in the actual world also might be found in the potential world, if we could peer into that world, which we can't, because the things there don't exist, they pre-exist. What's more, there's more in the potential world, since it's infinite, unlimited. It's beyond our understanding. Perhaps I shouldn't refer to us as inhabitants of only the actual world. We also inhabit the potential world, in our potential forms. But we achieve our completeness in the actual world. All things in the potential world reach toward actuality. So you see, even though the actual is finite, it's always being fed by the infinite. It's always expanding. My guru said, "Krishna is always expanding." Krishna, too, inhabits both worlds. What's special about Krishna, about God, about Goddess, is that they inhabit a region that touches the infinite, tangential to it. The divine is actual, but directly in contact with the
potential. We become successful when we move to that region, which is known as the spiritual world. April 3 Every Little Thing Every little thing reminds me of You, when I stop discriminating and assigning value. Just accepting, not rejecting what's within my view, every little thing reminds me of You. April 3 The War Between the States Half the evil in the world is done by people who want to eradicate evil. The old saying goes, "Better the Devil you see than the Devil you don't see." And the Crusaders are the Devil you don't see. Better to strike a balance -adopt a policy of containment. If you try to banish evil from the world, it will rise up within you. The war between the states of good and evil will defeat your own immortal soul. April 4 L.O.V.E. Living Oracles Verify Everything Last Outbound Vehicles Exiting Lenny Ott's Very Exceptional Loud Operatic Voice Essential Lukewarm Oil Vibrates Easily
Liberate Our Victims Equally Lloyd Observed Viola's Eclair Love Outrageously Violates Everywhere April 5 Thinking To God My guru asked his disciples to think about God all the time. His name for that was "Krishna Consciousness." Krishna himself recommended it twice in the Bhagavad-gita (9.34 and 18.65) with the words "man mana," "think of me." The word "man" is an elision of "mat," which can also mean "to me." Thinking to God, that is, talking to God in my thoughts, has grown to a position of great importance in my life. I really consider it to be the center of my life. Personally, I know of no other method of keeping in touch with God that is more successful. In terms of the traditional activities of devotion that my guru taught, it is most similar to "befriending Krishna." Thinking to God is so simple and direct. It requires no money and no ritual. It can be done all one's waking hours without disturbing anyone. Perhaps it can even be done in one's dreams. That would truly be my success! April 9 Feels Just Like Yoou every little thing reminds me of Yoou every little thing will sing about Yoou every little thing feels just like Yoou every little thing will bring me to Yoou to Yoou my Yoou to Yoou my Yoou April 11 Tricia Sullivan "Information doesn't exist. It's an interaction, not a thing." -- Tricia Sullivan, Someone To Watch Over Me, 1997
April 11 Death
Death is a mistaken impression. Everything is real, nothing disappears. April 11 Disruption Love is the original "disruptive technology." We try to organize things. But new things are always coming in from the Potentiality and mixing us up, pulling the rug out from under us, upsetting the applecart, blowing our minds, forcing us to reconsider, giving us life. April 11 Dispersion Just as photons from the Sun are dispersed more widely throughout the solar system as their distance from the Sun increases, resulting in a progressive dimming of the radiance at progressively more distant points, so does the influence of the Potentiality decrease throughout the Actuality as its distance from the Potentiality increases and it is more widely dispersed. If we think of the Potentiality as a triangle with its apex downward, and the Actuality as another triangle under it, with its apex at the top touching the Potentiality apex above it, then the downward dispersion of Potential energy into the Actuality widens out as it descends, resulting in decreasing energy levels. Within the Actuality, the top is God, the middle is Nature, the bottom is Self. Or the top half is Divinity and the bottom half is Depravity. Or Heaven, Earth, and Hell. There is a hierarchy. But within the Potentiality, which is pure Love, there is no hierarchy. You might say that anarchy reigns there, except that Love's infinite persons are all parts of one person, She. If there is only one person, how can there be anarchy?
April 11 Continuous Creation
In the Infinite Potentiality there live an infinite number of souls. They yearn towards God. They know only God. In their potentiality, they have no awareness of themselves. As they gradually pass into the Actuality, they first stay with God. But as their self-awareness grows, they become jealous of God. So they descend to lower levels of Actuality -- into the darkness, so to speak. This is painful, but through their suffering they gain complete self-realization, which finally matures into a freely chosen love of God. That's the drama of the soul. It keeps going on and on, with more souls from the limitless well of the Potentiality continually passing into the Actuality. My guru said, "Krishna is always expanding." The Actuality is always expanding. In that sense, even the Actuality has no limit. Creation is continuous. It may appear that a universe will die, just as it may appear that you will die. But that's a mistaken impression. April 14 Concluding With a Flashback It's been a year since I started this notebook. I'm now finishing it with some poems I wrote 38 years ago. They were published in Back To Godhead magazine, whose back issues just came out on a DVD. The Flood An infinite ocean of bliss! Is it milk? Or pure love energy? Dancing, on a sea of chimes, Arms stretched out In a rain of sweetness; Legs, dancing for God, Dancing to His tune; Alan, leaping to the chant Like a drunk Cossack. Everyone's astonished At last This is Krishna Consciousness!
Two Fools Fool Number One: Am I talking to Krishna? Am I talking to an angel? Am I talking to my wife? Am I talking to myself? One moment without you is an agony in Hell. And even more hellish is the fact that I don't know it's happening. Fool Number Two: The fool searches to do something for himself alone. Afterwards he sees his stupidity and thinks, "Was I searching for the ground floor of experience?" "A base of pure physicality upon which all else may be built?" "A definition of my individual existence?" Then he feels again the all-encompassing negation, the denial. He knows where the physical ends if it is followed. It ends in Hell. It is a planet, it exists somewhere out there, There is a head magistrate, officers, and so on, A specific "training course" for each capital transgression; And after Hell, release; perhaps as a rock. The fool gets another chance. Fool Number One: There must be a memory of something like that, Somewhere in my head, and at times I escape to it. It's easy to escape into memories, To try to make the present into an ideal that turns out to be Hell. Fool Number Two: The past is suffused with Hell, The present is suffused with Hell, The future is suffused with Hell. Hell is the reductio ad absurdam of material life. Stop trying to prove you can do it alone. You can't, you need Krishna, you need your wife,
Your idea is a grotesque joke without them, Your conception of God is pretty stupid if God didn't give it to you. Give up; Give up this silly notion that you have to prove something to somebody. God loves you as you are; Anyway, He knows all about your schemes, And finds them unpleasant. Is there any other reason He doesn't give you all His love? Take off your mask, face it; You don't exist, You are only part and parcel of Krishna, Yes, and your wife too; How else can you love each other? Fool Number One: All that confuses me. Crying is better, Giving up even the attempt to understand, Giving up hope of liberation, love, Giving up hope of hope, and crying. Crying is better, because somehow in crying I know Krishna loves me. All I can do is call His Name, And hope He hears me: Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare; Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare! I Wanted To I sat on a suburban hillside And watched, across a small valley, The opposite rise of land, Covered with low gray houses. Where I was in the grass, By a Black Birch tree With branches good for toothbrushes, Two pheasants slowly picked Their way through the dry leaves. Across on the other hill, Dim noises crackled from the roads And rooftops. Robins whistled.
It gently faded into brilliance. I held the light back from me, Not desiring the Void any more, Only trying to understand it. Seven years ago I used beer To hold Revival Meetings. Six years ago I used a lunatic system Of "Time and Energy" to forget God. Five years ago I used Bartok To make a window disappear. Four years ago I used logic To prove everything was nothing. Three years ago I used film To eliminate the blood problem. Two years ago I contemplated mist. One year ago I saw the Void. Brittle, metallic stupidity. The buzzing crash of electrons. But now Swami told us Something more that included The mute impersonal glare. Swami told us the truth, And this was just illusion. Swami told us about people, And this was just physics. Swami told us about love, And this was just eternity. God takes care of this, somehow, All this ignorance. Why was it illusion? It appeared to be all-inclusive. There was first the physical, Then the rattling of the physical, Then the dissemination into light. But it didn't include What Swami told us. And he told us the truth. I remembered the crashing electrons. I paid attention and realised The crashing was in this body, Not in the hillside over there. In my sense of it, the sight of it, The sound of it, smell, touch, taste. It appeared to be all-inclusive
Because this body was a network With a beginning and an end. Void-consciousness was body-consciousness. And the hillside didn't give a damn. The hillside was still there, Going about its business, And I was wrapped up in this body. My senses only wanted to sense themselves. To get to the hill I needed faith. God made the hill and it was not Void. He put it there, I couldn't deny it. I relaxed beyond my senses, I relaxed into faith in God. Staring at a hillside, Gathering sense impressions, Arranging them on a sheet of Celluloid in front of me, Pulling it, stretched, Away from the hillside, Forced up to me. Then it burned and disappeared In a hard shining fire. But the hill was still there. I went to the temple that night Only because I wanted to. Dancing, there was Swami; Chanting, there was Swami; Sitting, there was Swami; Who else told us the truth? The truth is Hare-Krishna-Hare-Krishna Krishna-Krishna-Hare-Hare Hare-Rama-Hare-Rama Rama-Rama-Hare-Hare; Him. Swami told us that. Everything else is extra. Swami told us that too. The First Days of Spring
The aroma of the chant is a bee, Buzzing, calling, a magnet pulling Me away from wife and friends, Forgetful of all but Krishna, A baby God is a cowherd boy, a baby, All of us are babies, crying For our mother, Krishna, A little bee, buzzing, And stinging me, a cruel lover, When I scream so hard for You And You don't let me see You My body is exhausted, my voice broken Look what You've done to me! I can't understand You, but I love You Do what You want with me I'll never know why You cheat me, It only seems to be cheating because I'm a fool, Do whatever You want Ruin me Your sting is all I ask for, And perhaps a glimpse, now and then, Of Your Lotus Feet Krishna Getting Across A weak, starving man was walking Slowly through a landscape of Dead trees and barren thorn bushes. On his back was a large sack Filled with heavy grey stones. He had nothing except these stones. He loved his stones; One was round, one was square, And one was like a pyramid. He took them out every now and then To feel them. Then he Put them back into the sack And stumbled slowly on. One day he came to a river; The first he had ever seen. On the other side was an amazing Lush landscape of rich mountains, Waterfalls, fruit trees, birds,
Gardens, and brilliant golden Temples with happy children Laughing, playing with deer. Strong men with clear eyes Came to the edge of the river And shouted to him, "Come over here! Come over here! Just swim across the river!" But the man said, "I can't! I'd have to leave My stones! I couldn't swim With my stones! I'm too weak!" "Leave them! Don't be foolish! We have stones here - perfect stones, Diamonds, dazzling rubies!" "Yes, but my stones are round, Square, and one is a pyramid!" "We have better stones here What are you waiting for?" "But, I'd have to give up my stones!" "We just said, we could give You better ones!" "Yes , but they're not mine!" "Why should that bother you? What you have is nothing! Look at all the beauty here!" "Well, suppose you swim to me And carry me over to your side." "With your stones?" "Yes, with my stones." "No, we can't do that. Nothing can get those stones Across the water. They belong Over there; but you do not! You belong over here!" Just then the man turned To his side of the river To see a thin creature Loaded with stones Jump into a thick mist downstream And drown. It was screaming, "Nothing! Nothing!" as it died. Another one came, quietly, And walked calmly in to drown. It had no stones, but said, "Nothing." The man looked at the mist,
And at the temples, And he looked at himself. Then he remembered something He had forgotten, a long time ago. He threw his stones away And swam back across the river to get it. The people greeted him with dancing, And he found he was in the home of God. Pradyumna Pradyumna, Pradyumna, Pradyumna Prabhu, walking in the park. Pradyumna walking in the park. Yellow and blue, shaved head Prabhu, Walking in the park through the families. Pradyumna walking through the families. The grass is green, bright green Where Pradyumna walks, blue and yellow, Chanting on his beads, walking, Walking through the families In Montreal, walking to the temple, Prabhu walking so nicely, walking To the temple among the citizens Who do not notice he is chanting, Chanting Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, On his beads as he walks, Krishna Krishna, to the temple, Hare Hare, Straight to the temple, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Krishna kirtan, Hare Hare, walking to Krishna's temple. Yellow and blue on a green field, A Brahmachary flag for Lord Krishna. But still the people do not sing, Do not follow him, the children do not Laugh and dance with flowers at his feet. How can they ignore the call, Krishna's call, The urge to sing His Name, the urge To follow Pradyumna Prabhu, a devotee Of The Lord, walking, Pradyumna Prabhu, Walking in the park, Pradyumna! The Divine Name Sets the World A-Spinning
Who can understand the power of The Name? The simple pronouncing of It Clears the mind of all dirt, Softens the heart, gladdens the heart, Makes the sincere person laugh, Relax, feel the Bliss of God's association, Cry, see Govinda's Lovely Form before him, Makes the devotee bow down At the merest glimpse of Krishna's Lotus Feet, Sing, dance, lose consciousness of himself, Until all he can do is chant, chant, And go mad with this chanting, And go mad without the chanting Watch out for The Name of Krishna! It will make you a madman!
Part Two: Afterdays Heaven It's twenty to seven. I've had plenty of heaven, I've had all I need of sleep. Back to earth. I'll get up. There's business to set up, and promises to keep. Jump into the shower. I must leave in an hour. No time to catch the news. Take my pills. Drink my o.j. It won't be a slow day. Too much at stake to lose. And meantime my doubles have their own pack of troubles in their parallel universe worlds. In the lives we are shaping there is no escaping the fate of all boys and girls. Time - is a tyrant. Though its orders are silent, each clock is its face on the wall. No use in lying. Everyone's dying. We're running in place, that's all.
So I run, to my car, and I drive near and far to a future I share with the clouds. All the cash in my purse will one day disperse and I'll drift away ghostly in shrouds. Eternity then will become my friend. Well, why not befriend it today? At least in my head I DECLARE MYSELF DEAD. Now, my work has turned into play. All is forgiven. Yes, I really start living beyond death, for heaven's sake. My final conclusion: time is illusion. I'm in heaven, asleep and awake.