divine masculine

Divine masculine, dissolve the bonds that hold us back from our heart's truth, from sharing the love far and wide, universally, impersonally, unconditionally. Dissolve the bonds with compassion and surrender to what is, not force and aggression against what must no longer be. See the shadow our withholding has cast, the competitiveness, the greed, the assaults on nature, the violence, and turn away from this path. Meet the discord of our turning with equanimity and understanding. Resolve this inner conflict, and let it fall away like a dead molted skin. This work must be done. Come of age, men, and meet the new age with free hearts full of love and open minds full of beauty.

fully alive

Learning the crucial importance of being in the place and engaging in the activities that make one feel the most fully alive.

train

Outpourings of gratitude and love for human connection and capacity. From the basic survival of our physical person; to our deepest longings and illusions of incompleteness; to our unstoppable cascade of actions and reactions; to our world building expansiveness and compassion for one another; to our ability to codify all of that in a sequence of approximate ideas and cultural utterances; to the knowing beyond knowing; and to the meniscus, the vanishing point, the event horizon, the membrane of the nonconceptual is-ness of consciousness. May this day of the Solar eclipse, the Mercurial stirring, the Martian calm and the cleansing Venusian rain bring us all fully into alignment with our greater purpose, unlock the codex of our inner emissary, and spread our knowingness down into the tangible!

We're on a train. It's moving as fast as life. The train can support limitless physical and psychological weight. But we are holding our baggage in our hands, over our shoulders, around our necks, on our hips, afraid to put it down. In each bag is a memory, a belief, a self-concept, a trapped emotion zippered up. There is one huge, heavy bag labeled LOVE. Inside are all the attachments we have applied to this universal truth. Parental suspenders, lustful underwear, domesticated pants, hard-work boots, cozy socks, disenchanted dental floss, romantic pearl-drop earrings, egoic survival kit, endless. Today we take this bag off of our shoulders and put it down on the train of life. There's plenty of space for everyone's bag, and no fee. Put it down. Rest. LOVE. Universally. Tell everyone that you love them, that they are loved, that they are LOVE.

I LOVE you, dear friends, and you are LOVE. May it further fertilize your flourishing greater gardens. Peace and limitless blessings to you and yours.

wishes

That intuition may be free from the vice grip of the mind. That we may breathe away our fears. That doubt, bitterness, cynicism, derision and other negative, shunting energies may be transmuted. That our vast untapped capacities may be realized. That hearts may open to their world-building potential. That violent and apocalyptic obsessions may be sublimated to more fruitful ends. That interconnection and interdependence may become the recognized norms. That we may light up the noosphere with human consciousness. Those are my wishes. How about yours?

unlock obstacle block

Obstacle block, I cause it to appear before me as a door. It throbs with the closed, locked defiance of frustration and futility. I pull the sciatic ring, my keys, from a tangle of muscle fibers, gnarled, barbed hooks on a crusty wrought iron moon. Reaching out through the viscous cathartic substrate, a barbed key slips the lock. The door swings open into a void of unwavering indifference, all beyond is disaffected and indeterminate. As I step through with the smile of my greater intentions, the door collapses leaving only the keys and lock in my disembodied hand floating in nothing. Putting the keys and the lock in my rocket, I paint a new universe of love and chocolate.

lost identity

Dreamt I lost my driver's license, passport and all forms of identification, and felt light as a feather for it.

transhumanists

My take on the Transhumanists is that they are defining themselves by a deep and abiding fear of death. Movements that define themselves by fear generally do not go well.

Love's Light

Loves light illumes
The shivering heart of fear
With no retreat

On Teachers and Learning

Spiritual teachers are necessary up to a point, but their function is universally misunderstood by their pupils. The learner believes that if he gathers enough pearls of wisdom from the teacher that he will someday understand something that was previously unavailable to him. Really what is going on is the teacher is providing pointers to what the pupil already is, but has forgotten. While the learner believes there is knowledge to be gained, the teacher knows that too much knowledge confuses the issue. The teacher knows that nothing was ever missing and seeks to point that out. The teacher provides a map. Eventually the learner masters the territory and no longer needs the map. Or the teacher.

Beyond that point all information imparted through teaching seems synthetic, incomplete, approximate. It may be beautiful or inspiring, but it is like any other product of creation, as if by an artist. The adept traverses the territory, admiring all the beautiful and inspiring maps encountered along the way. But the adept is firmly within his own essential, irreplaceable, perfect experience. There is no longer anything to add. There is no longer any rush to find something that turned out to be right with him all along, even when he imagined it being so remote and indecipherable.

Learning becomes a process of stripping away. Mental models arise for the experience, as the mind scrambles to impose order. Rituals, patterns, practices provide an engaging outlet to keep this unavoidable ego-based material-mental reality from becoming a distraction. These practices will look like the actual Work to an outsider, but the adept knows them as outer forms that simply set the stage for it.

A good teacher will prepare the pupil for the day when this entire hidden dynamic is transparent. The teacher knows he will no longer be needed and gracefully exits the teaching role. He and the adept are now, in every sense, co-equal realized partners in creation.

A unfit teacher will require everlasting love, devotion and disciplehood, constantly feeding his pupils cravings for more "exclusive" knowledge, giving them teasers for the next pearl of wisdom if they'll just pay for the double CD set or webinar.

All the maps anyone could possibly want are in the local public library. Libraries full of keys, like the Peter Murphy song, Socrates the Python, one of my favorite maps says:

Today ...
Your problems are not
Of blind belief
That is or means
Belief ain't enough, belief ain't enough
The oracle of your age
Point towards the word
Psychological

You may freeze
You may fear
You may wince
And not hear
You can sick at the heart
When I say
"God is one"
Does God the word
Make you reel
And I mean, real

But it isn't God the father son or holy one,
But the key to your age
Get it together, and listen
With all the books
On the shelf
All the wisdom
With all the books
On the shelf
All the wisdom

Socrates Pythagorus
Yin and bloody Yang
Hatha Yoga, Omm
Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus
Old Testament and New
Libraries full of keys
Libraries full of keys
Where's your lock?

Socrates Pythagorus
Yin and bloody Yang
Hatha Yoga, Omm
Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus
Old Testament and New
Libraries full of keys
Libraries full of keys

Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus
Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus
Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus ...

the shortest distance between two points

The shortest distance between two points is quantum entanglement.

Peace Day 2012

Peace Day 2012. Aggressive response to conflict* mostly boils down to feces and its subtle effects on consciousness over time. Eat like crap, crap like crap. Crap like crap, feel like crap. Feel like crap, breathe shallowly. Breathe shallowly, become ruled by fear**. Rule by fear colors thoughts, logic, words, actions. Fearful actions escalate crises and catastrophes. So eat organic, mostly plants, in moderate quantities. Get rid of chemical cleaner, hygiene and cosmetic products. This will change your world, slowly, subtly (don't expect overnight miracles). And eventually, through collective effects, it will change The World. To peace or not is a choice of action that I, you and everyone makes individually and personally. It's a verb. Choose Peace.

* Conflict is not the same as violence. Conflict is a normal and natural occurrence. Violence is a particular response to conflict.

** Fear is not the same as cowardice. Leaders rushing us off to war out of fear of some imagined future might be seen as courageous. But in my view the "courageous" act of going to war is complete failure and submission to fear. I guarantee the collective colon of such society is full of sticky, fetid grunk*** powering that fear. On the other hand nonviolence in the face of conflict is also seen as courageous, but takes an enormous effort in overcoming fear and is always successful in the long run.

*** No offense to the The Royal Government of National Union of Kampuchea. I just liked the onomatopoeia.

all I ask

All I ask is if you should think of me,
You think of me
Loving You.

Consciousness Is

The mind is a curious instrument in that it can spin these frameworks that provide a sense of meaning, purpose, order, comfort to the ego, but that ultimately never stand up to scrutiny. Like works of art they are always approximate and incomplete. You can always ask "why?" and dig further down the infinite rabbit hole, as any 4 year old persistently demonstrates. Building these frameworks, and all ideas I think, are creative acts carried out in a cognitive realm. As such they can be incredibly beautiful or useful pieces of the paradigm puzzle, and they can provide technologies and modalities through which to further create. But note that they are always ultimately built upon what was fabricated before. Follow that back to primorida and I see that the things we hold as "true" are simply those frameworks that have gained consensus (or perhaps equilibrium) in consciousness. Even the giant foundational ones like science, life and space-time itself are fabrications, creations of consciousness with limits, approximations and frayed edges. Not to diminish this accomplishment at all! In fact this is where I see the manifestation of incredible order, anti-entropy, sequitur, a fantastic legacy of godlike creation. (When science holds that everything is descending into chaos through entropy, it is an indication of the scope, approximation and incompleteness playing out in their frameworks, because it is so clearly not true on the grand scale.) Most people I guess call this Source, Oneness, God, Love, what have you. But to name it is to approximate it, externalize it and turn it into a framework (or a religion). Consciousness is.

Mark de Mann

"Who hit you?" "What is that?" "What happened to your head?" These are the questions of the most forward, innocent, unabashed or drunk. Many silently avert their gaze. Some steal a second look. None who look upon me are unaffected. Even those who insist they are unaffected, are compelled to the act of insistence, often in steadfast silence.

Such is the strawberry flavor of life. The birthmark is the shield against the shallowly beautiful, the cruelly judgmental, and hopelessly narcissistic who could never accept me among them. It is the wide eyed innocent stares of the young. It is the automatic acceptance among freaks and frankens. Physical form marks all social contact, and for me never so literally, immediately, prominently, repeatably and irrevocably.

When I was young and in rage, I began laser treatments for the long painful process of having my birthmark removed, convinced that it was the source of my intolerable youthful ill-at-ease. Each session would leave a gigantic purple bruise for weeks on my forehead. There would be many a session, many weeks with the bruise, many long trips to the exulted doctor in the concrete and steel high-rise in the distant city, and all paid by a well-meaning relative. Small price, I thought, for a lifetime of relief from carrying such a burden.

After two sessions a good friend brought me to my senses, "I don't know why you're doing that, I always thought it looked cool." No one had ever said that to me. Yeah, these are the people I want to hang with, the ones who can accept exactly how I appear, who can look upon the fingerprint of God and appreciate the handiwork. Now wherever I go, whomever I meet, with no impulse on my part, I clear space. I raise the tenor. I force the issue. I induce the decision. For I wear my heart on my forehead.

celebrity is dead

Celebrity is dead. Everyone is celebrated.

idea art

Ideas are works of art; they are acts of creation. Each is a big bang creating new universes of possibility-space, irrevocably altering the background radiation of consciousness. No one looks at an artistic masterpiece and says "prove it." Freely teleporting beyond science, logic and philosophy it silently changes everything. Express!

example

A father's contribution is more in the example he sets than his presence or level of engagement in his children's lives. He loves not through the tenderness of his embrace but through the integrity of his expression. Rock on, fathers!

reflections on the Evolver Convergence

Always partial to road trips as a means of cleaning mental cobwebs, this one did not disappoint. Far from it. I found a few fellow Evolvers in Boston to share the ride with me and off we set. The miles evaporated into great conversation, chill music, and the joyful anticipation in our hearts. Bald Eagle synchronicities came in waves after seeing an actual living breathing one of these formidable birds when we stopped in a cozy park in Scranton to stretch our legs and minds. The eagle archetype followed us the rest of the way to Pittsburgh, appearing now and then as a presentiment to coming attractions. Prepare for power the signs called; prepare for visions. Auspicious indeed!

I'd experienced Talat's terrific chakra activation and talk a few weeks prior in Boston, so I took the opportunity to take in the art and the eclectic surroundings at The Warehouse upon arrival on Friday night. Later, after the talk I ricochet between conversations with people about art, and conversations with art about people, and far flung reports on the intrinsic, self-evident qualities of space-time with newly reunited soul mates from past lives or parallel universes. I was among family, riffing psychedelic about my music and my chronometry and countless noospherical ideas with people who cherished these expressions. I felt as if I had just come up for air after a decade-long dive into the nether reaches of default reality. And the keg of kombucha put it over the top!

Saturday's opening salvo with Charles Eisenstein was yet more confirmation of our collective evolution finding traction and working. We brought a being into our midst, the energetic embodiment of the ideas and energies of the better world our hearts know is possible. To me it was a soothing opalescent green inferno burning up to the rafters and beyond from within our squared circle in the sanctuary. We must have shone like a beacon on the luminous plane. We're here and we mean funloving artful business. Oh yeah!

I'm not a note-taker. I'm most effective at the aesthetic-intuitive level, where I can absorb the qualities and allow only those facts and ideas of greatest importance to me flutter down to sequential access memory. What follows are my "notes".

Adam Elenbaas filled a room with cheerful pragmatism as he ran down the gauntlet of the zodiac's twelve houses. I'm him, he's me. I can decide to do anything and my natal gifts and gaffs will follow me to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

Jennifer Palmer lifted a great weight from my psyche with her talk on online telepathy. The people we meet online are like filaments and fragments of identity and persona. We are the center of our online universe. And it is the same with everyone else. Synchronicity reminds us that all is wildly in order, on schedule, and rife with trickster meaning. So Pay Attention!

Stella Osorojos passed on the intensely powerful Inner Child Meditation to small group us in the Evolvetorium. I learned that I have been neglecting the lighthearted fun side of me, and what to do about it. So grateful for that insight! Others in the room all had very different, very powerful experiences. It only took five minutes. If you missed it, it's in her book. You HAVE to get tapped into this. Really.

Then came the sharing of the gifts. With permission to talk about the gifts I bring to the world and to tell others what I see as their gifts, a portal opens and invites entry into a life of fulfillment. My heart was in full bloom then. I took a stroll around the church grounds humming from my chest, adding fuel to the fire stirring within.

Back at The Warehouse that night, the Inner Divinity party was a spiraling fractal of deities and demons, angels and devils. The glow sticks I brought diffused little by little among the gathering revelers. I admired costumes and talked conscious evolution and rocked out and chilled. I met Jesus drinking a beer in a crusty painted school bus, and told him I admired his work. I ended the night dancing to the absolutely smokin' sounds of Lungs Face Feet a brass, accordian and percussion band. Damn they were hot!

Sunday began with a wonderfully uplifting worship jam led by the Methodist church that was graciously hosting our Convergence. I followed that up with Large Scale Geometry and Labyrinth Building, then Psychic Development, the Evolver Roundtable, and finally the Psychedelic Renaissance.

But of course the pinnacle of the event was the closing ceremony, lead simply and beautifully by Daniel Pinchbeck and Carolyn Elliott. After hugs and joyful celebration in the church sanctuary, the gathering spilled outside to find a full quadruple rainbow arching over the city of Pittsburgh. The scene was by turns disbelief, gaping child-eyed wonder and absolute glee. It was a mere synchronicity, that's all. But that's everything.

great poetry

The world is great poetry. No one reads a great poem and requires proof of its meaning. Its truth is intrinsic, self-evident, and requires no justification. It is written in our hearts.

time is art

Everything is right on schedule. "Time is art." --José Argüelles

filter

By actively expressing ourselves in a manner truest to who we are, we acknowledge our responsibility in creating our world and cause it to deal with us on our own terms. This acts as a filter that diminishes what does not align with our purpose and amplifies what does.