offering myself

exploring inertia

while watching myself take pause

maybe just another hour longer

to reduce this feeling

maybe the motivation i’ve pushed for years long now

will eventually grow its own legs, but it still needs pressing…

forward

getting praise for being happy is silly

when the joy fades,

I’m sitting in silence, taking the world in, and it’s sharp

Do you know what people are going through?

where is the talent to express these hard things?

where is the wisdom in my soul to trust THIS expression?

I am not made of roses.

but I do have thorns, little prickly places I don’t want to be touched.

I want to go into THIS challenge

I want to meet THIS darkness.

It is okay.

Guiding back the love into myself,

I trust this space, this time, this darkness.

I can be “outside” in it.

You don’t need to reassure me to hide away to do self care.

This IS self care.

My art is not about explaining myself.

I paint myself in black, and walk into the darkness,

because I want to blend in.

Shining is not for me.

I want to be different, black

but we are all in this together… so I am not alone

and you are different, too. We all are.

**I don’t want to be in the practice of explaining my poems. But, each piece I share is very real for me. Walking into the territory of discomfort is sometimes unexpected, but it happens. We live through our sadness, and pain. Joys can speckle the days with highlights. It’s just something we get used to, trying to live a life of meaning. This is how to put one foot in front of the other. The work we create need not be brilliant or good, and it doesn’t matter how much attention it gets. We all think we ought to find our sparkle and “stay there.” But that is not growth. Growth is in the trenches. It’s in recognizing our inertia. Today I have had a heck of a time with procrastination. And, I’m still there. And, that is okay.

“I am the alarm clock in your dream”

“The only thing that seems to separate you from me, is ‘my’ idea of you.”

I’ve been following Mooji since the late 2000s. This Mooji Satsang strikes (and resonates with me) as the clearest Mooji communication I’ve heard to date. He talks about how people get trapped in the spiritual ego and how the ego takes the journey with us, but we can pay it no mind. When he talks about ‘presence’ here, the energy is so clearly felt and experienced, we know ~ that’s where we are, embracing it: confirmation, encouragement, inspiration. A man talks about peeling a banana and how the whole energy of the universe is there! We disappear, and energy provides everything! Then, how bananas are back to normal.

Experience where it’s no longer a phenomenal [ephemeral] thing. “Enjoying the perfume of the Self.” Yet, you aren’t plugged in so deeply, to what is going on – impact isn’t strong. “It’s a beautiful detachment or space that must be honored.”

More of my previous posts about Mooji

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One of these spoons 🥄 does not look 👀 like the others!

In a new era: one leader shows ‘A’ way hOMe

Wishing everyone a fine Sunday. This video moves me deeply.

Perhaps you might enjoy this short video where Morgan Freeman interviews His Holiness the 17th Karmapa, Ogyen Trinley Dorje, as much I have. This man is one of my leaders (Karmapa – but Morgan Freeman is pretty standup, too), my ‘wayshowers,’ and I’m so proud to say it. He’s very ordinary. That’s what I adore about him. He’s also very extraordinary. Keep your eyes out for him. Though he is young, at 31, he embodies the transmissions from the former 16 Karmapas. He is a walking lineage and he is, I believe, a vast “energy holder” for our new era.

Playing God Word Collage

Play turns into Practice
And from practice, valuable skill
And from valuable skill, pleasure.

Some would say the pleasure
Comes first. Who are they?
Sufi friends I’m pointing at you.
Glory be to God and to You as God. Spin, Spin…

We don’t know who is doing it all
We just see it happening, and
Wonder: “What the happening?”

Or, WTF.

Mooji says, “Who is aware of this ‘I’ that is
Watching form and phenomena?”

We drool, we scream. We draw blank stares.
We struggle with words different from our
Native language.

We choke on tears, throw fits
And laugh over those same stories that
Make the tears, transformed.

Quick. How can that happen so fast?
So big to so little, so little to so big.
Nothing into something and then into
Nothing before a baby’s first swallow,
On any given day.

Who is this
One who notices the noticing?

Where is ‘time’ in sound? “Sita Ram… Sita Ram..”

There are metaphors about skies.
And blank screens. There’s some creativity
But mostly all end up singing in praise
Or waiting in line to do it, to dropping down
At the feet of God. Again and again, forever.

Pointing and shouting to Shiva. I see you! Hah-ha!
Go and hide and we’ll seek again. ::wink::
God is the name I made for me to keep me busy
Playing: Who’s next?

***********
Note for readers: I wrote this poem following my 7-day silent retreat with Mooji
via broadcast from Monte Sahaja, Portugal