27 The Quest to Know

Listen to Episode 27 The Quest to Know

Have you ever run from your house, thrown up your arms to the sky and cried, "I want to know!" and run back inside for a book that the universe has put on your book shelf? If you are awake even minutely, you run back outside to the sky and cry out, "That's not what I mean. That's for kids. I want to know the truth! I want to know how life works, where I am going, who God is and whether my life means anything!" You feel the veils inside your heart darkening your sense of the way things are, and you start tugging at them as if they were rags worn by street urchins. "Please, God, at least give me something nice to wear, something that shines with truth and radiates love so that everybody who sees me knows that you exist. But if you would, God, I would really rather be without any of these things, without the pretty veils of worldly stories, of sweet notions of who you are. I would rather be alone with you without anything between us. That's what I want to know, God. What it's like just you and me. That will do."

Sex and the Media Outrage

Should we be so outraged that some of our media heroes are not gods, that they do not hang genderless from a cross or sit beneficently robed beneath the enlightenment tree? Yes, they have done wretched things, but God Almighty! will this sex obsession never cease, and will men and women ever find their magnificent others amongst the human beings of this world in some other vision than what has crawled and growled on its belly since walking out of the sea and seeing the sky a billion years ago? Enough, I say!
All my life I have felt this ache in my body, and I, like everybody else in this world, have suffered indignities in word and deed that come when this force betrays even the most basic human forms of respect, and I look across the world and see how so much of its insanity can be traced down to the reptile we each hold in our psychic basements and its incessant roar to lash out with a gun, a penis, a swelling breast, a flag, a sacred book, a political manifesto, a bank account, to protect its right to exist in this space and have these desires satisfied even at the expense of others, and I have to trust that there is a greater power at work in our evolution and that sometime beyond this slice of human existence that is the few decades I have lived, humanity will not define itself by the mad propelling of its corrupt DNA into a blind future. 
In my sexual history, I have had attitudes and engaged in actions I deeply regret, but I have nothing outrageous to confess other than a culture defying resentment that this absolute power could grab hold of me and compel me to put aside the more elegant features of my nature in favor of blind obedience to this ancient urge, and that despite the rich rewards of beautiful and loving congress, which for me were more the exception than the rule, the outspread wings of the better angels of my nature have been deeply sullied by the incessant lunge of this beast against my basement door.  
In a dream from a few years ago, I found myself on the edge of a forest looking out into an opening from where many angelic beings were observing the forest. Suddenly, in the rush of a huge herd of antelopes, I was out in the lighted plain, and I turned my galloping antelope head toward the lighted beings and acknowledged their existence. They beckoned to me to come to them, and I cried out with deepest pain that I could not escape being the animal that I was; I was an antelope, and even though I knew who they were and what I most deeply wanted, I was swept back into the dark forest of animal existence to resume my antelope life.

Amid the howling shame and anger that is now filling the media outlets, I shake my fist at the screen in defiance of the latest accusations. Don’t you know, I cry, that you are the same, that underneath the studio bought clothes and the modulated media tones of your corporate identities, you are constantly pushing against the door of your basement life, and that for some the door has broken down and the reptile has run amok in the ten-million-dollar house and given its owner a good thrashing? They are us, too, but the fear and shame that comes from what we know truly lurks beneath the floorboards, keeps us from directly confronting the fact that in one media outlet we condemn gross violations of sexual propriety while on the other outlet sex is worshipped like a god, for it draws in the customers who pay for the cameras and airtime, and create for us images with which we prowl the land.

I told myself in my years of confusion and foolishness and pain and anger around sex, that I probably spent many earlier lifetimes in monasteries or caves and have come in this lifetime to “integrate” my sexual nature with my spiritual nature. What stories we tell! Here is another one: my parents were sexually distorted and so I am wandering around lost in how to be and do. Ridiculous!

Here is the way it stands for me now. My basement door is kept closed but not locked. I have learned how to go downstairs and clean up debris left by my lizard in its many decades of restlessly pacing the dank floor looking for the opportunity to pounce. Painful work and it will never be completely done. When I think of those whose sexual predations have been exposed, I confess to myself, “There but for the grace of God go I.” Today my lizard has no more urgency than the Geico gecko, except when it comes to the hypocrisies that cross my media screens. What a blessing to feel the angelic beings in the lighted field of my dream around me and the grand spaces of the spiritual cosmos beckoning me on. For those who think a well-trained basement lizard wearing a tuxedo or evening dress means spiritual accomplishment, I and my Geico gecko will roll around on my living room floor in howls of delight.

One Holographic Day

What if you already get it? I don’t mean having the best reality presentation (i.e. the best one liner) after dinner with friends when all the political and personal topics have been exhausted. I mean when you are sitting with someone in casual conversation at a meal when the large bird flying by the window reveals to you for the zillionth time that you are living inside a universe size hologram. What to do? You have already backed out of your holographic universe slowly enough many times before so that nobody notices, and you have found yourself ecstatically aware of life outside the veils of that illusion like Tom Hanks staring into the camera at the end of Cast Away.
The world, however, is not so easily shaken off. Back at the table between responses in the conversation, you have to deal with the realization that “you” don’t exist outside the hologram. The “you” that doesn’t exist inside the hologram exists in its own way and you conclude that it can probably dash off to some other arena of the cosmos once its fascination with this earth experience is over because you know that it has that same hidden itch moving it as you do sitting at the table lifting the fork of food into your mouth. But then what about you?
So, what you know settles in like a gentle snowfall over the years until little of that holographic self remains to greet the day, and you ponder the possibilities of further gradual accumulation of the knowing that you aren’t real until your body gives up the ghost, or you make an ecstatic plea for the whole thing to turn into a divine rush of pure existence fire which ravages the life out of the pretender standing at his holographic window waiting to be taken away one holographic day.   

Ep 26 One God Walking

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What to do when it touches you? What to think? When everything you know collapses in the light of a presence that you will never be able to explain or ever deny. Not a time for petitioning for the betterment of your personal existence. My God! My personal existence! Then it retreats only to come back and see if its silence and your chattering mind can get along. And pretty soon when it arrives, you can only think beatific thoughts about life, existence, love, death and the grand design that you are a part of.
Eventually you see the truth of it all without a complex, emotionally charged, intellectual explanation about God, heaven and hell, sins, death and resurrection, clouding over the undefined core of your being. Day by day, week by week, year by year, it becomes you and you become it so that the vision of your particular life is a vision of the whole cosmos. And you shake your head in amazement that you never saw this before and that you were buried in the mud and mire of the torturous illusions that keep the human race churned up as if preparing itself for self-destruction.
As you look around now, you know not to worry, that all of it is arises moment by moment out of the infinite and you are just a piece of that knowing that has woken up with a brain, a body, hands and legs and a landscape to walk on, air to breathe, and people to know and love. What next, you ask? Now that the dream is banished and you walk forever on the shores of the unknown.

Ep 25 The Only Real Destiny

Listen to Ep 25 The Only Real Destiny

Life without any notion of spirit is dreary, people sleepwalking through every experience, thinking and doing what almost everyone else is thinking and doing. So most of the world goes on bordering on chaos and madness. And then there are some who are stirring awake and are realizing that what they do in life counts and that how we treat others matters on deep levels of the heart. And then there are those who feel the world changing around them, not in a historical sense but in a spiritual sense; they feel the presence of the divine and the awesome power of creation in everything that lives and moves, and even in those things that seem inert. They awake to the infinite spaces inside them; they look at their hands and feel God working in every cell and the life blood of the body that makes astonishment possible. And as the beyond settles into the consciousness of these rare human beings, the song of the cosmic drama begins to echo in the ever expanding inner spaces, and suddenly destiny moves in and makes everything real.

Ep 24 Participating in God's Reality

Listen to Ep 24 Participating in God's Reality

You know, we are just stuck with thick, clunky words for describing the world we live in. When we want to reference the inner dimensions of our existence, we still have only the big, clunky words with which to write, like the ones I am using now. Still, words such as these can bring us into deeper contact with the inner workings of human existence and how our experience of life can bring us into more intimate contact with the divine. I try to do that. I use familiar words in a particular context, and I take a particular angle on the movement of my consciousness into the divine, and I lay out the path that the divine takes in moving into my existence. It only takes a human willingness for the divine dance to take place. This episode of The Invisible Room Podcast continues that dance with clunky words but an open and sincere heart. Profound things happen in this episode. Doors open. The heart trembles with new awakenings. It's simple really. Just listening to the words takes us into places where words cannot travel. No matter. The mystery is in charge.

Ep 22 Do I Really Exist?

Listen to Ep 22 Do I Really Exist?

You know, sometimes you forget that you exist, when the ocean isn't pouring over you, and all your questions about God and ecstasy and self aren't washed away into oblivion and you are not just existing naked and fresh in your inquiry, asking questions that have a sail and rudder for navigating the infinite; sometimes you forget you exist because you have to check the oil in the car under the infinite sky before the sun goes down and all the stars pin you to the back of your mind and you shout, "God, I give up! It's all infinite! It's all you! Every blessed thing! You can take me now! I think I'm ready! Just let me get the car in the garage and find my kitty, and hug my lady, and get dinner ready, and I can find a movie for the evening. Maybe then you can have those things too. Maybe when I'm lying down and not paying attention, and my kitty and lady are right there with me, and the movie's a pretty good one. Maybe then, when I forget.

Empty Space and Worlds Within

In the so-called past, I wrote Prayers to the Godbeing. Two years later, I wrote a commentary for each prayer so that one might consult them as an oracle. I have used them in that way for many years. Both the prayers and the commentaries are online as The Fire of Life Oracle.

Use of them has staggered my consciousness into unfathomable spaces of spirit. Imagine treading water alone in a vast ocean and deciding you don’t want to return to land. Every time I use them, I come into that space. Nevertheless, I am still here.

These prayers are voices. From deep within the ocean, one can hear the voices as they engage the human condition from within the infinite spirit, one knowing molecule at a time. These voices are why I use the term “quantum” when I discuss the infinite spirit. They are living, knowing pieces of existence engaging the reality of the space they exist in, or as, along with the human consciousness which touches them. When I touch the space of one of these voices, I know it and it knows me.

The word “quantum” means a particle or a discrete piece of something. It also urges us into contemplation of the infinite space within which particle physics operates.

In this past week, two people I have known have died. I wasn’t close to them, but as these two human souls were passing on, my beloved Rachel was in the hospital for two weeks undergoing surgery, which was scheduled for two hours and lasted five, leaving me in the waiting room watching a monitor filled with color codes, contemplating whether the inevitable had arrived. It hadn’t. She is home recovering nicely.

Without claiming that I know what happens at death, I can offer two viewpoints: one, every death is cosmic, a projected arc created by the unique living of one individual into some other dimension of the infinite spirit; two, love and death cannot be separated into distinct realities.

All dimensions of existence are present in each personal life, including the empty space with all the quantum beings and worlds within it. Everything is available within the folds of grace and personal choosing.

Those of us who have chosen meditation, prayer, chanting the names of God, or any other form of worship, have invited spirit to align our personal lives with the divine arc which we are on. I shot my arrow into the sky . . .

When I asked the Fire of Life Oracle about transmitting Sunpoint healing energies to Rachel, I came up with Prayer 20. I have come upon this prayer many times over the years. Perhaps this prayer is my arc into the infinite. Reading it feels like swimming to the bottom of the ocean. Unlike many arcs out into the unknown, this one enters spirit directly at the quantum level. See the movie The Incredible Shrinking Man and you will know something no words could explain.

Prayer 20 is about the infinite spirit touching one’s personal being. It feels personal because touching you makes it personal, but it always carries you beyond the personal question that brought you there, in this case my question about sending Sunpoint healing energies to Rachel. The verses of Prayer 20 are the waves of spirit touching the heart. The commentary, printed below, is the arc left by spirit in the heart for passage beyond. Notice the ocean in this arc, feel the embrace of love and death:

This prayer is a preparation for experiencing love without the protective veils of life around it. Its passion arises out of the realization that all human love is illusory, even the most intimate and enduring unions. In their confrontation with that truth, the mind and heart suffer the deepest disillusionment, for which there can be no preparation. How can love not be the one salvation within a world that is permeated with darkness? If you are ready to surrender the palliatives that most spiritual teachings offer, you will be able to stand eye-to-eye with the one living truth. How you respond to this loss of illusion is the very redemption of human life, even as the veils that define human life are shed.

Your passage into the inner reaches of the heart, once the veil has been irrevocably torn, may be perilous, and you may even want to forgo the journey. There is, however, no way out, for you as a human being are not the master of your fate. Only the living grace will accompany you into the heart regions from where there is no return. That which is undeniable and acting out of its own necessity will ask of you more than what you as a human being can offer. The depth of surrender is unfathomable.

This is a private calling. You travel the path alone. The enduring values of the race, including those of hearth and home and mother and child, play no role here. As you turn your back on what is most sacred in the human condition, you will have nothing to go on but that which always remains unseen, and there is no “other” in whose lap you can lay your head. You are the veil which love wraps around itself; you are the illusion who must face the truth.

What Does God Do All Day?

What Does God Do All Day?

Maybe God is looking for folks like you and me who are turning over every rock in creation looking for the answer, the thing that justifies and makes possible everything we experience. Maybe. It’s hard to separate the person asking these questions from the world in which we walk around asking them. But never mind; it probably doesn’t matter. There are things to do, and it doesn’t matter who God is anyway because, well, there are things I need to do to make this world palatable to my sensitive skin, and one day I am going to die, and if I am lucky a handful of people will weep and remember. Thinking about it doesn’t help.

Then on a good day when the sky is a deep blue and the silence inside cannot find a bottom, something stirs and you  find yourself free of questioning mode, and it’s the thing itself just existing in the nether place, and the thing is stirring and you know that waves arise out of it mysteriously because it doesn’t know that all creation is bursting on the scene making itself more specific, that is, turning itself into you and me, as it goes along just because; and all these dimensions of deity emerge in each questioning condition. This way and that way; never mind; it’s too much. Thinking about it doesn’t help.

So, how about we do this? The infinite universe is just what it is, who cares where it came from, and we let scientists and like-minded souls take on that exploration over limitless numbers of lifetimes diving deep into all those dimensions and dream worlds that precede dense matter, getting excited about new horizons always dawning in this created universe, lorded over by its own deity, to whom you bow down when you make your way into its presence. Good luck to these beings forever. What a mighty gesture arising out of the infinite as its creation! But not for me, now, sitting in an armchair looking out over the lake, which is as good a place as any for the knowing absolute spirit to rise into one of its creatures, no mind what it is doing elsewhere or when, no matter how many galaxies are spinning around out there or living creatures are moving about on their unique journeys; all that arising out of the same absolute spirit that’s nestled itself deep into my heart, come from the boundless within up to the surface, where the chunkiest parts of creation lumber along, and finds me, a chunky mortal creature who has given up forever the turning over of rocks. That’s a lot to keep track of, me thinks.

An Inventory for Accessing the Mysterious Present

I have stood alone for years with what you are about to read. As an inventory, it is not meant to engage your mind in an intellectual colloquy about the nature of reality or what happens after we leave this world. Everything is here and now and meant solely to lead you to the last item.

Every day I am astonished by my personal existence.

I accept that the life I am living can never be fulfilled.

I am ready to drop the veil of earthplanet plane and accept as my Self the illusion-free reality of my godbeing core.

I surrender my life story as an illusion of the veil.

I surrender love as an illusion of the veil.

I ask my divine self to remove the veils that hide the spiritual universe from my vision.

I realize that I and the world of my experience are a module of perception, one among many dream worlds that collectively comprise earthplanet plane.

My module of perception along with all other modules of perception that constitute earthplanet plane are a dream vision rising out of a cosmic lord on another plane of existence.

What questions do you expect to be answered when you pass from this world?

I am ready to step outside of everything I know.

No matter where I stand, I am always here.

I can access my identity as a godbeing traveler of the quantum cosmos.

The stars and planets turn around me by an intent that is not my own; I think and feel and act through the grace of that same intent. 

I have stood alone and awake to the great beyond.

I have felt the searing gaze of infinity penetrate my mind.

I have felt the rapture of the heart’s divine song.

I know that I live and die in one divine breath.

I remember the ancient ones, who created the passageways of travel through which I will move as a liberated soul into the great beyond.

I remember gathering with enlightened souls on the shores of the unknown ready to move out together into the great beyond.

What do you expect to find when you pass from this world?

Are you ready to choose your manner of passage out of earthplanet plane?

Do either of these options for passage into the great beyond feel familiar to you? Eternal life in the absolute spirit, or many lifetimes in a created cosmos of form as it lives and dies in the void of the original nothing?

Does your heart feel bound to the lord of this cosmos?

What did you expect to find when you pass from this world?

Can you feel the deep mystery passing through you right now? 

On a subplane of your planetary field, human spirits are gathering to learn the art of quantum travel. Many have come and are now exploring deep mysteries with the ancient masters through limited voyages out into the beyond and very highly structured incarnations into earthplanet plane. As daunting as quantum travel is to these novice travelers, nothing can abuse them of their intent. Be at peace with this truth. It always is.

The Divine War

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What is the World?

I’m not stupid. You’re not stupid. Yet here we are. It may or may not be calm outside your window, but the world, your world, our world is burning, drowning, being blown apart by the very air we breathe, while deep beneath the surface, on which we have oceans and mountains and valleys and plains and billions of living creatures, the earth is getting angrier, sending people screaming into the streets when it rumbles; and masses of people are abandoning their homelands for new countries that do not want them because insanity has destroyed their governing institutions.

the raw fear of nuclear war is in the air; the melting arctic is becoming a new fortress of military activity with Russians and Americans finding a new theatre of operations for facing off, as they dust up their old antagonisms, while hyper-wound up FBI investigators rip through papers, logs, emails, and digital sinkholes in search of a Russian mole in the highest levels of the American government; the nukes still work; 

and the Chinese are still infiltrating every society in Asia they can insinuate themselves into while on their borders North Korean mad men of their creation threaten holocaust unthinkable, and their rocket scientists are quietly trying to get to the moon for God knows what; and the hyper-greedy global corporate military, black money, drug-dealing, arms-dealing, tax-dodging, industrial complex is trying to take over the world by grabbing all the money in creation; not to mention Google, Apple, and Microsoft at war with each other for digital supremacy, and Facebook and Amazon turning the world into their private Skull Islands, and anarchists and nation states now able to control infrastructures of whole countries while on the side petty digital crooks are stealing people’s identities;

and Moslems and Christians still thinking after centuries that they are God-driven continuing their efforts to take over the world and send the infidels/heathens to hell; and the newly arrived Mormons with their global efforts toward empire extending their fervor into the afterlife, and every group of street corner worshippers applying for a 501 (3) c to convince the American government that they shouldn’t have to pay taxes because they are good guys plowing the field for God; excluding the Jews, of course, who just want their little plot of land and if anybody big enough tries to take it away, well, they’ve got their nukes, too; and chunks of insane people rioting in the streets claiming their rights to hate are being violated by do-gooders.  

But here’s the real problem as I see it, and wow! does it make me angry to confess it: everything that exists is spirit, God, the absolute, the divine, whatever you want to call it; and that spirit is at work in every nook and cranny of this human insanity; including a psychotic mowing down first graders in their classroom, religious zealots blowing up nightclubs, busses, buildings, themselves, and whatever else their mad minds can conceive. It’s all God. Don’t you see?

Forty-four years ago, I started the deep, deep meditation that rolled out of the Himalayas to save us from all this shit. About twenty years into that effort, I realized I was trying to commit spiritual suicide, to get away, abandon ship, leave the asylum to the inmates, and when the practice bottomed out in the ocean, and left me floating around on a tiny raft of my stuff, I could see things, understand things;

nevertheless, that tiny raft reeks of illusion, and the ultimate truth is (lean over now, it’s coming) is that it’s that damn raft; it’s your raft and my raft that’s the problem; now the reality of rafts, large or small, is that we stand on them with a club defending ourselves against awakening to the divine spirit, against a heart that cries to open and celebrate its existence, (how terrible can it be to abandon the raft and rise up as a glorious wave of that ocean?), and we wield our clubs just like we did when we defended ourselves against saber-tooth tigers during the day; the club has worked for thousands of years when we believed that the world was a dangerous place, before enlightened beings crisscrossed the lands telling us that the world is an illusion created by God and that we should quit fighting it; we should put down our clubs. 

But that’s not it, is it? I mean just putting down the clubs. I’ve been around the block a few times and have cinched around my widening girth a belt with a few enlightenment-style notches etched into it, and you know, even with all of that, I can still feel that club sticking out of my back pocket, which has a few notches of its own and is just itching to be used again; and the world is not the illusion, the world is real; it’s us that’s the illusion; you and me and the club standing on our individual rafts, floating on the ocean of being ready to make war on anything that comes our way; damn! Tell me you and your raft don’t stink as much as all the rafts where their riders are, as you read, swinging their clubs with “fire and fury.”

So, when I make recordings that reek of the raft, I get it. These latest few are good, but not the same as the wild efforts generated before the high energy light being that kept me wound up for months abandoned my raft, leaving me with more mental energies than I was working with before, which are fine for playing around; they have good, sound points of view floating through, but what help can mental driftwood offer to mad humanity flailing about on their reeking rafts? A few years ago, when I was on a stroll outside of earthplanet plane, I was cavorting with a couple of overworld dudes, and we shook our heads in amazement when we peeked into the porthole of earthplanet insanities. Our mutual conclusion was a shrug: “Well, that’s what they do on this planet.” 

So, to the handful of listeners who take in each broadcast and read every piece like this, these next ones are for you, for as long as I can convince myself that there is value in the effort beyond the vanity of a like or two on FB, and here’s hoping your rafts go over the falls soon and you fly free. As for the world, it’s all God and his divine war, including the reeking rafts and this second glass of wine I am raising high in the air to salute you.

Who Am I Without God?

Who Am I Without God? Podcast Episode 002

Where ever do I look, when the infinite self which I have suddenly become ponders the loneliness, even though days and weeks and years have passed since I knew my personal life was over. Through the books, the mantras, the prayers, the grand words and searing beauty of images and stories and rhythms that are all about that and where to find it, a fierce longing endures. Infinite being that I am, I still need that act of longing, even if it is only a gesture, a nod of the head, a movement in the eye from that being that knows, that personhood that peers out of the infinite as someone that is not the impersonal, cold absolute. There cannot be unbounded life without it! I cannot crawl out of the ocean onto land without that something that will make infinity plausible as a landscape for living. Where to go without that? Who to be?

Humanity's Long Goodbye Podcast 001

Episode 001 Humanity's Long Goodbye

You can't help but want to bow down when you look up from the normal drudgery of human existence and exclaim, "I want to know!" What to do when the passion grabs you, when the shakti roars through the mind's confusions and fears and opens up to grand thoroughfares of cosmic beings on the same journey exploring the infinite conditions of existence. And your humanity? Humanity has never been more valuable to itself when you look up from your mortal eyes and see with the eyes of the absolute spirit.

But humanity has a decision to make. Are we dealing with the unknowns of life by turning ourselves into biotic androids for our seeing; or are we waking up to grand drama of existence through the power of spirit to inquire into its reality as you? Perhaps they are not mutually exclusive now, but there will come a point when certain opportunities will be lost. At this moment, however, now is what we have. The infinity of now or the prolonged struggle in the world of mental machinations to push death off farther into the future? Who wants to know? What do you see?

Never Mind the Infinite Universe

What to say when contemplating one trillion galaxies in the universe, or for that matter, infinite after infinite numbers of atoms, and another infinitude of subatomic particles rushed into existence with an atom smasher? Easy to say that God created all this: just read the books and say the prayers; and easy to say that nobody created it when you’ve got mounds of equations digitalized on a screen laying out the unsanctified history of the entire universe and how smart you are. But never mind what the scientists say or what the priests say or what my mother and father used to say, or my best friend in high school ruminating after he swiped my girlfriend, or the local Baptist minister proclaiming by rote in front of the bored masses who pay him to say it, or my grandfather when he sat upon the judge’s bench in a small Virginia town and gaveled down justice to the powerless; but of all things this!: knees to ground, heart surrendered utterly unto perdition, mind crying out with joy and grief: “How could I have known?”, before rising and walking on with the only certitude that matters in all that infinite stuff. 

The Abject Nothing Left to Give

Audio Episode: Primer Four: When I Stand Alone

It isn’t that I and my beloved celebrated without guilt the raucous ride through all three Iron Man movies over three nights, leaving popcorn all over the floor, and bathing in the rapturously beautiful and expensive Bose sound for the TV; and it isn’t that I escaped unharmed a revulsion unto nausea generated by a “spiritual” movie turning God/Christ/the Holy Spirit into trite, insipid, cartoon characters in the name of inspiration, despite the guilt and shame that was the film’s undercurrent to deliver and which I wrestled with in darkness for the entire two hours before escaping with the help of a friend; nor was it for that moment I cannot quite account for, when I found myself reading as sadhana Sri Aurobindo’s Essays on the Bhagavad Gita, and finding my mind, the bugaboo of all enlightenment seekers, nurtured down to its finest roots—that I felt hopeless gratitude;

but it was in that moment a few days earlier than these events, sitting out front under the newly risen sun, contemplating the parched earth and the weeks of no rain, that the merest unformed gesture out of the infinite unveiled itself, a gesture so tender it was that mere exposure to the grossness of me could only have brought abject revulsion and yet did not, such that offering even the profoundest devotion and gratitude a mortal soul could muster would be like tossing down a sack of garbage; that I, standing up in total acceptance of the stench of my existence, despite a lifetime of devotion to the pursuit of God, endless acts of purification and surrender, the deepest inquiries of my scarcely lighted mind, tore out of the bottomless caverns of my being the abject declaration

that I, a beast in clothing of mud and pretense with nothing left to give, capable only of the crudest declarations, affirmed with my hand on a stack of Bibles and Gitas stretching down into the unredeemable nothing, that I exist! No, never, could anything be more real or true! Why else to live or die than to know this? Tear my heart from my breast and the light from my soul if ever I deny that one tender wisp of knowing turning to know me.

Dying the Deep Death with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

There were choices to be made back then. Live a reckless and dangerous life and die early in abject despair, or follow in the wake of a divine traveler of the spiritual seas and perhaps ascend in spiritual awareness to know what he knew, not only surviving mortality but taking it on as a divine order of being. I, John, looking up from the mud and mire and finding a place among the stars and continuing the search for absoluteness with sword ablaze and cape blowing in the cosmic wind.
Looking in his eyes that day on the poster tacked to the telephone pole, I asked him if he knew. If he knew that existence itself was an experiential fact and that no matter where you looked or felt or sent your inquiry about God, there was always only this. The image above this writing was the face I gazed into. A few days later, I followed his beckoning and discovered that meditation suited me well. It was a practice that kept me focused, kept me from forgetting that the outer life was just froth on a wave on the ocean of being, and even forty years later long after the practice has returned to its divine source like a fully ripened piece of fruit falling from a tree, he is, nevertheless, still there, and the thing we started those many years ago has been ongoing and vital within the depths of my being that had been stirred awake when I had first followed his beckoning and made that first dive into the infinite.
Now the story is different. Things have changed. His face is no longer as important as it once was. Nor is the story he told about what is real and what isn’t. Of how it all happens and what there is to find. Of what to do and where to go. Those questions have faded. They used to be guides but now they are hindrances. The stories and ceremonies have also passed, and the books have been retired.
Now there is just him, and it isn’t really him. He is just a wisp of a wave of the tenderest state of being, still beckoning as before, but now the consequences of following are ultimate. Do I trust him in this arena, where absolutes splash in your face like spring rains? His is the beckoning that won’t go away, and who am I to die falling with him into the infinite ocean of being?

When You Turn Around and Spirit is All That Is

Primer Two: Unwrapping the Veils

I can understand your hesitation in listening to this episode. You know it's real. Once you know that, what a marvelous decision either way! It doesn't matter. Spirit is always there and the decision never goes away. It just waits till a time of your choosing. The choice to turn is, however, truth be told, not really a choice. It is a deeply private inner knowing, a decision that is more in spirit than in you. Back in your world, in the swirl of life experiences, it waits behind the veil deep in the silence while you go about your important business, which is never complete, as you know; it just runs out of gas. Look at the man in the picture above. His world is on the table. This other thing, which has been going on for eternity, has now made itself known.

Beginning Again For the First Time

Primer One: First Things Again

Even though one can put together a story about what these broadcasts are about, no words will satisfy; no concept will last. When we enter the invisible room, the stories of life and death and the world cease. This is who we absolutely are. We exist as the one thing that is. Come in, take a deep breath, and feel the deep currents of mystery running through your life.

The Primer Episodes are a first of a series of topical sets designed to open passageways for spirit to enter its creation through us. To feel it is to know it. That's all that one has to consider when entering the invisible room.

Here are the titles of the four Primer Episodes, which will be posted on Fridays as usual. The were all recorded in one sitting and rise exponentially in vibration as we move through them.

  1. First Things
  2. Unwrapping the Veils
  3. The Invitation to Explore Spirit
  4. When I Stand Alone

Headphones recommended so that your interior spaces resonate more deeply.

No Place to Park in the Grand Drama of Existence

A few years ago, I took a self-development course to clear out some of the “dark matter” in my psyche. My efforts met with enormous success. At the end of the course, a piece of the infinite burst into my mind and landed like a grenade rolling through my astonished thoughts. For hours, I walked around the hall beating my head against the desire to explain what this was, fully aware that it couldn’t go on like this forever, wondering if that grenade was going to go off; nevertheless, I kept exclaiming internally, “This is it! I want it! I want it! How can I tell anybody what this is?” Pulling at my hair because, you know, infinity does not run out and there is no place to park and regroup. Fortunately, the grenade did not go off and I am relatively sane at this moment though I know infinity is in there just behind the shadows of my thinking. How do I explain this thing? Impossible to do as everybody knows; nevertheless, once more into the breach! 

One of the reasons, I believe, that many Star Wars fans were disappointed in the three prequals to the original trilogy was that the mystery of the Jedi and the force got lost in the outer landscape of the sprawling capital city, the aerial traffic, alien races, rogue generals and their wars, a senate the size of a small city, and Jedi sitting around in chairs making political and military decisions. Contrast those scenes with Luke Skywalker crash landing on a dark, swampy planet and coming across the wisest Jedi of them all. Was it just one of those things Luke arriving there? Surrounded by an impenetrable environment, Luke takes his first deliberate steps in opening to the force. 

Both movies created by the new owners of the Star Wars legacy have been about, in my view, restoring the mystery of the force and revealing that mystery at work. Witness the last scenes of The Force Awakens. And what follows here:

In Rogue One, the spiritual force of the story is carried by Chirrut Imwe, (pictured above) a blind Jedi out on his own whose life mantra is, “I am one with the force, and the force is with me.” His companion, Baze Malbus, is armed to the teeth and thinks that he is the one protecting his blind friend. At the end of the story, he realizes that the force has always been working through him, including bringing him and his friend to their deaths when their roles are complete. He has been the blind one. The other characters, including Jyn Urso and her father, who carry the emotional weight of the story and a major Star Wars theme of reconciliation of child and parent, know little about the force. Nevertheless, all who are on the mission sacrifice themselves to the intent within the force of extracting a piece of information from the mind of the dark side of the force and transmitting it to the forces of light. In Rogue One, the force is at work in everything, whether one is conscious of it or no. “I am one with the force, and the force is with me.” 

If you have pitched your tent on the landscape of light and dark with Jyn and Cassian as one of the good guys protesting the evils of the day, then the question to you is this: “Are you available to the force?” Protesting evil is easy. Just roll down the window and shout. If you are ready to dive into the deep, swift flowing currents of the force, realize that there is no dark side and there are no exits, including death, except the ocean of being. “I am one with the force, and the force is with me.”

Now transport yourself to ancient Egypt and Pharaoh holding the Hebrew people in slavery as depicted in Exodus. This is the story of an ancient Jedi who is one with the force, as we see in his attitudes and behaviors. It seems not to bother Moses that it is the Lord who is hardening Pharaoh’s heart every time Moses pleads with him to relent. He never questions the Lord about the devastation of the plagues, and he effortlessly absorbs the people’s doubts when they become fearful of the whole idea of leaving Egypt. He has his moments of uncertainty, but they do not last long. The Lord shares things with Moses only as needed, such as parting the Red Sea at the last moment when Pharaoh’s army is rushing toward them and the people are beginning to panic. Clearly, Moses has become one with the force. He doesn’t have to understand the whys and wherefores. Once he saw the burning bush, he was all in. 

Not the same, you say. But hold on. Both the millennia old story of Moses and the decades old story of Luke Skywalker are waves of thought passing hand in hand as equals through the mind right now. If you get this point, then the mental barricades will begin to crumble. Think of formal religion as being like the three prequel movies, important people sitting around talking about important things, large numbers of deciders of what should and shouldn’t be, arguments over group membership requirements, wars and violence, etc. Now think Luke alone with Yoda on a dark and swampy planet; then think Moses alone on Sinai with the Lord. Once you unwrap the vast mental landscapes filled with epic stories, images, sounds, shapes, smells, textures, and grand personages, you realize that all of it is just the soul-grabbing geology of thought; and that whether generated by theology or fantasy, there is the unseen mystery of spirit playing itself out every moment and in everything, including your thoughts about Luke and Moses. Here is the decisive moment: Luke and Yoda, Moses and the Lord; they are showing it to you right now, standing on the rocky shores of your mind, dripping wet with the infinite mystery out of which they and everything else are arising. 

I cannot show you the thing itself or even convince you that all of this is real, but I can ask this, “Are you available to participate in the grand drama of existence, or would you rather just buy a ticket to a Star Wars movie, munch popcorn, and pretend that what you see on the screen is not about you?” In eternity with no place to park, it’s all good; yet here and now, there is that nagging question of what is going on in the bottomless caverns of you.

Enlightenment or What Does God Get Out of All This?

Ep 19 The Urgent Pursuit of Pure Knowledge

How much living does it take before one can conclude that life, my life specifically, is going nowhere? I mean, there’s no intellectual formulation that has brought me to my knees and had me declare with finality, “I have found it!” Nor surges of emotion, nor sensory experiences, nor memories, nor food, nor sexual partner, spouse, poem, nor scaled peak, nor anything else that might bring me to declare victory, after which I might tidy up and exit for other parts, dowsing the light on the way out the door.

Except maybe this urgent compulsion to keep digging, or to conclude from what saints, sages, and seers have said over the ages that something grand and conclusive is available for the having if only I can surrender my individual existence into the ocean of being. Plop, cease to exist, something. Endless cogitation may stave this one off, or it’s true and so be it.

Unless I conclude that none of it is about the me and keep digging because something urgent demands it. Never mind some future enlightened state, the something that is going on is going on now in these terms, just as I write this. Can’t you feel it in your bones?

The absolute spirit, the divine source and center, the Self, whatever you want to call this thing, it exists. Fact. Non-existence is eternally overcome in the irreducible “I.” How is non-existence eternally overcome, you might ask? If you really want to know, grab your cosmic staff and head out. You will find steadfast beings traversing that line of inquiry, possibly forever. Once you arrive at the irreducible “I,” there are all the things and dimensions of the cosmos to see and gesture into with intent, and we all are trying to manage that intent in whatever form it manifests as very particular particularizations, and not insignificantly, ones that know and think and can walk across a living landscape. On my bookshelf, I have mighty volumes of knowledge, wisdom, secret sounds, images, practices, and ceremonies, that will do nothing to affect that intent as it is working right now in me.

So, what does God want? Dammit! It is a fair question! As it works its way into this dense planetary creation, into the animate and inanimate things, into the conscious beings, and the human beings ready to kill and destroy because they don’t have a clue as to why there are a thousand million laws in the world pushing us this way and that if we are not desperate about this dilemma of not knowing and ready to lash out to avoid the emptiness just on the other side of the question! Have I caught you unzipped in front of the mirror?

But it knows. It’s looking around. Creatures little more than blind animals on the evolutionary verge stretch out their consciousness with inquiry that just might work for that intent looking around for folks like you and me.

Knowing spirit knows only existentially, but human experiencers implanted with godseeds generate experiences useful to the mysterious intent arising out of the unbounded reality just over the precipice of our personal existences; and perhaps if we put enlightenment back on the shelf as an ego intrusion, we might look at what is going on right now as some of those godseeds vibrate out our experiences as a human version of god-knowing, providing useful data to the infinite God on its journey into its creation. For us just to know and enjoy the show!

Plant the seed, see what it is, next. This is how things are in the quantum cosmos.

Wrestlng with the Tao

The history of the world could be rewritten as the story of wars, not against each other, but against the Tao. “I am better than you are!” “This is mine, not yours!” “It has to work this way!” How muscular we have become in a million years of titanic struggle in the dark trying to fathom what’s going on. And the Tao? Who knows anything about the Tao except religious seekers, or lovers of ancient poetry, even assuming good translations? 

We struggle against the way things are not realizing that things are the way they are because we have created them that way. How many among us are awake enough to stand forth in the face of pain and say, “I did it.”? One contemporary teacher whom I greatly admire says, “If you struggle against what is, you will lose 100% of the time.” Such is the lesson of the Tao. In the grandiose words of my podcast, it goes like this: “Let go and enjoy the grand drama of existence!” 

Even the most spiritually experienced of us are astonishing in our ability to avoid or manipulate what arrives on our plate to act upon. I can be very skilled in the art of self-deception, as witnessed in the subtle pride that arises in words that I write or speak. Humility is a virtue yet to be valued across the land, but heart to heart, considering the mass stupidities at work in the world, I hope its presence is expanding, specifically in me. 

A few days ago in my kitchen, I felt the piece of my soul that was energizing the podcast leave my body and set out for home. I stood there in panic because I realized in an instant that this piece of above had made possible all the spoken and written words I had put out there in my name. How mightily I struggled to resist this moment as my life came crashing down. What hypocrisy! I was ready to die. 

Such is life in occlusion from the Tao. 

I recognized this feeling because a few years ago, I had died on our living room couch after succumbing to yet another occasion of substance abuse. An angelic being was carrying my soul toward a ring-pass-not, from beyond which, I knew, no traveler returns. The clarity of God’s displeasure was absolute. I fought off my angelic accompaniment and declared that this was my life and I wanted to live it! As it was! 

Unknown to me, as those events were transpiring behind the veils of my travail, my beloved Rachel was pounding on my chest to bring me back to life. Between our mutual efforts, I awoke, but my soul had not yet reentered my body. For the next hour, I had to exclaim every few minutes that I wanted to live. Eventually, after promising God with absolute sincerity never to use that substance again, my soul reentered my body, and I was able finally to let go into sleep instead of death. Cured by grace!

So, I know what the coming and going of souls and soul parts feels like. That day a few days ago in the kitchen, I was ready for my entire soul package to depart, believing I had committed some egregious malfeasance in what I was doing. I had struggled against the Tao, which includes the coming and going of soul parts. I had lost my faith. 

Today, after the help of beloved friends and a looking up from the tiny drama of my existence, things have fallen into place, and although I feel I have only inched along in my humble relationship with the Tao, I understand now that the transition in my podcasting work, which I knew was on the horizon, was destined to arrive with this profound wrenching of my spirit. For me, this work is, after all, not “about” that of which it speaks. It is that.

“Episode 18 Conversation with God” was recorded amid this trauma in the Tao, and even though it will have value to the brave and hardy, I have removed it from my websites. It still exists in the iTunes and Google Play stores, which are venues over which I have minimal influence. 

“Episode 19 The Urgent Pursuit of Pure Knowledge” will appear under new internal management by the end of the week with program notes still accompanied by a lingering scent of spiritual pride. For that I ask forgiveness.