harmony and chaos

Shame

2009-08-11T08:53:00.000+10:00

Can i see the beauty in shame? Can i appreciate the completeness with which i’ve been caught, the depth to which i’ve been plunged in my own unconsciousness? Even now i can feel it’s crippling touch on my fingers as i type, a sinking feeling deep within of defeat before the struggle has even begun.

I see now that i put shame on with my clothes in the morning (or is it even earlier than that, waiting eagerly to be with me as my eyes first flicker open?), and have lived with it every waking moment as long as i can remember. I see now that i’ve lived much of the last month crushed under shames thumb, even when i’ve been in states of ecstatic bliss shame has held the door open for me to leave it’s domain, and then closed it securely behind as i return safely to the comfort of it’s shackles.

Shame is such a subtle labyrinth, fractal like in it’s depth, unafraid of my growing wisdom (with it’s whispers so often helping my understanding) because it knows the very depths of me in a way i do not. It understands my own weaknesses, strengths and desires with an intimacy no other has.

And even in writing this i abstract it, i struggle to own my shame, that shame is not out there but in here, that i own it, that it is part of me. Perhaps i fear i am my shame, that if all was stripped back that would be all that is left. It is a poison that has seeped so deeply within the idea of life without it seems a strange and unfathomable thing.

This creature with which i live knows me with an intimacy i do not, it has been walking the hidden paths of my mind and emotions and it knows it can lay me low with a single blow. It seeks to perpetuate itself, and i feel like the more i grow, the higher in my consciousness i think i’m getting, the greater it’s eventual harvest.

My shame is truly magnificent in it’s subtlety and tenacity, in the intimacy with which it knows me, in the ease with which it controls me to create more of itself. If i wasn’t so ashamed, i’d call it beautiful.

Fire

2009-07-30T22:49:00.000+10:00

The beauty of fire.

The ritual of lighting the fire, tearing paper out of the old phone book, scrunching it up, placing a pyramid of sticks and applying a match to it. The fire in it’s infancy, delicate and fickle, quickly firing into a bright flame, then abating as it slowly takes hold, embers gently glowing. That moment where it could go either way. Bigger kindling goes on as you trust the heat; they catch; and the fire powers into action, consuming ravenously, giving out nurturing life giving warmth.

Stone

2009-07-27T11:47:00.000+10:00

Sitting in a library, slowly acclimatising to working on a local government project again. Next to me is a solid stone wall, all lumps and ripples and slapped together cement. There is a solidity, a reassurance inherent in stone. It’s always just there being solid, like the earth but a bit more visible because we’ve sliced it out and put it somewhere we can easily see.

There is a violence to it’s rectangular form, it has been fashioned, beaten into shape to serve a purpose. Yet it speaks also of beauty, a beauty beyond a function (although there is a beauty in that); there is something in it that speaks to me obliquely, something it holds while my mind melts into new shapes and i look deeply into that dark pit of transformation. When i return, the stone will still be there, holding a steadfast solidity for me, being stone.

Beauty

2009-07-26T20:53:00.000+10:00

I’ve been struggling to think what to write in this blog for a while. Wondering what the point of it is, what it gives me aside from some random ramblings. I’ve been working on setting up a blog particularly for my spiritual musings, which will get there when i’m ready.

But today i had an idea about this blog, and it’s an idea that can be quite useful to me. The basic enquiry for the blog (for the time being anyway) is to enquire into beauty. It’s about me noticing the beauty around me, appreciating what is no matter how dark the road may be at that time. Even the darkness is beautiful.

And so today, a day of darkness, of exploring some of my deepest hurts and disabling emotions, i noticed how beautiful the blossoms were in the driveway of my home. My heart eased.

It aroused the memory of seeing these blossums last year, and that i’ve been here for more than the turn of a year. In amongst the harsh cold of winter, such delicate and beautiful flowers call our attention to the glorious flow of life. And a ray of sunshine emerges through the clouds.

Cleanse

2009-06-04T00:27:00.000+10:00

My body feels a bit like it’s tripping. Not my mind, but my body. Between the salt water cleanse (another dose tomorrow), my Chinese herbs to clear my liver and spleen and the oxygen water supplement, my body has gone into melt down a bit. I’ve gone into melt down a bit. I’m feeling not dissimilar to what i would if i had a cold or something, yet i’m also feeling really clear and energised at the same time. A very strange experience all up, but one i’m going to keep pursuing.

Salt Water Experiment

2009-06-02T09:39:00.000+10:00

This morning i embarked on a long awaited experiment, which was to do a salt water cleanse. It involves drinking one litre of salt water (1 litre of warm water with one tablespoon of salt in it) before i’d consumed anything for the day, ie first thing in the morning. One hour later, you really want to be sitting on the toilet as it comes shooting straight back out the other end with the contents of your intestines mixed in.

So why did i do this? Curiosity, and that i’ve had a flatulence problem for a while now and also that my belly just felt a bit clogged. I felt unclear in this area of my body, and i’m wanting a lot of clarity at the moment. It did take me a while to get a tablespoon measurement (i’m one for doing this properly if they need to be done)

Although diarrhoea is usually associated with a high degree of discomfort, there was nothing discomforting about it, it was a relief to get it out. And how do i feel now?

My head feels clearer, which is great considering i didn’t get a good nights sleep, my guts are a bit rumbly and feels like there’s a bit of stuff moving around in there. Definately worth doing a few more times.

Chickens!

2009-05-25T18:58:00.001+10:00

The fun of chickens, strange little creatures, highly sociable and very curious. They've been bringing Isiah a lot of joy lately: you give them food, they give you eggs.

-- Post From My iPhone

Kids are love

2009-05-20T19:47:00.000+10:00

Time with Raven has been an amazing thing, life is so immediate with children, the ups and the downs can be intense, there is a sense of the fierceness of the universe that i guess we learn to temper as we grow older and our consciousness becomes more adapted to this place.
And there is a sense of entitlement to being entertained, to having your attention, of being on the journey with them. They’re so much less mediated that we are.
Ed and family have gone for a few days... i’ll miss them, but i’ll also get a bit more done.

...and so i wonder...

2009-05-17T20:26:00.004+10:00

The end of a new day, and another new one tomorrow like drips from a tap, or the birth of the sun, or the crescent of the moon. I hear of angels singing, and yet the hum of electronics fills my ears, and so i wonder if it's the same or if my ears have too much wax in them; i hear of love and yet my heart feels closed when it seems it should be most open, and so i wonder if it's the same, and perhaps i'm just looking at in the wrong way; i hear of the earth and yet all i experience is the falling of the leaves in autumn and the dripping of the rain, and so i wonder if it's the same or if perhaps i need wings to fly.

Love

2009-05-14T22:52:00.001+10:00

I have some amazing people in my life. It's so good to see Ed again, and his family is as awesome as he is.

Raven in particular is outrageously cute. My heart feels more open for having spent time with them.

-- Post From My iPhone

Fun

2009-05-09T22:55:00.001+10:00

Life surges amoungst the chaos of love. Music wine dance bonfires friends and all round goodness.

-- Post From My iPhone

Memory, lead, gold, Wolfgangs

2009-05-08T21:09:00.000+10:00

I make the dash out of everyday reality, away from home.

A trip out of town and a whirl of traffic and frantic activity to reach escape velocity. But now I'm down at Wolfgangs palace with the sound of flutes and voices in the dark, the smell of cow dung and damp earth and the bright sky of a full moon.

I do love this place. It has an enchantment about it that makes time swirl in curious paths. Much like the buildings. And the people. There are few straight lines here, and those that do exist serve to support those lines that are not.

Many strange and wonderful and occasionally painful memories lay scattered about, letting them flow through and letting them go is a part of the adventure though. It's part of my work of now transforming small scattered hidden emotions and memories from lead into gold.

-- Post From My iPhone

I really do love Cats

2009-04-28T22:45:00.000+10:00

I really do love cats.

Tilly and Kimba have been getting cuter and cuter. They’re currently snuggled up on my bed together. They’re strange companions, they really don’t have a lot to do with each other most of the time except they like snuggling up together when it’s cold (and sometimes just for fun) and occasionally Kimba likes chasing and swiping at Tilly - which Tilly doesn’t really seem to understand.

Today Tilly really wanted food, but i told she couldn’t have it till Kimba came too. Curiously, she went and got Kimba up (not straight away, there was quite a bit of frantic meowing before she resorted to getting him up).

They really do understand quite a bit.

Exploring MacJournal

2009-04-21T22:30:00.000+10:00

I’m undertaking a highly enjoyable and entertaining experiment at the moment. I’m trialling the MacJournal software by Mariner Software. It’s promise is to bring together my diary/jounral, blogging, ideas sketches, story outlines and book summaries into the one place, fully searchable and accessible through pleasing nested menus. Previously it’s been scattered throughout numerous word processor files (across google, microsoft word and open office formats) and paper journals and i rarely access my past journeys which is a fair inhibition to someone who’s emerging desire is to be an incredibly successful writer.

And this post is an experiment to see how it goes uploading to my blog, which is one of it’s many fine features. One limitation i’ve just found is that i cannot seem to word wrap around an image. Well we’ll see what it looks like on upload. The set-up for connecting to blogger was a very easy process, if i was still using a PC i’d be thinking something had gone wrong!

The interface is very Mac, clean and logical. I can add nearly and media to it which is cool, and can even record voice and export entries to all sorts of formats. I’m excited by it, and i’m interested to see how it effects my enjoyment of journaling - which has been an on and off affair so far this life.

OK, here goes!

disfunction

2009-04-19T21:34:00.002+10:00

Sometimes things just seem so hard and far away for no clearly explainable reason. Time to go to bed and hope my world has righted itself when i get up.

The Game

2009-04-17T22:24:00.002+10:00

In the crack between dawn and daylight, idea and action there is a whole avalanche of thoughts, of processes, of beliefs and control signals that come cascading in. I begin to see them, i begin to see the buttons they press playing me like a finely tuned instrument they slip underneath my attention like a magician waving his hand and in the moment of distraction the deed is done. Like a magic trick, the trick being to disable magic, disable my choice of reality. I can see it, am i fast enough to catch it, or is that too a game?

wheels and gears

2009-04-03T00:54:00.001+11:00

It's way too late and the wheels and gears inside are still whirring away furiously, spinning faster and faster towards their doom...

Sometimes

2009-04-01T22:16:00.002+11:00

Sometimes at the days end all i wish for is a new day. Sometimes it helps.

Falling like water

2009-03-30T23:12:00.001+11:00

Some days fall like water, they just flow over you and the best thing to do is to let go and allow them to happen.

Some days are like a sheer rock face clear and solid and powerful and things just happen.

Today was more like water.

-- Post From My iPhone

Home again

2009-03-29T00:16:00.000+11:00

One of those nights where I thought the evening was going to be topped of by a cranking little party and instead it was topped off by a chill little party where we didn't really know anyone and the friends who had told is about it we couldn't get in contact with.

Hard not to be a little disappointed.

But at least there is home and a neat kitchen but I do feel like I've been spending too much time chilling here after unsatisfactory outings.

Ah well lucky I'm having fun on the inside.

-- Post From My iPhone

Little bits

2009-03-26T23:27:00.003+11:00

Little bits of me everywhere falling into themselves
A weight of creaky old selves bickering over the feast
Tired, impatient, numb, fearful, bewildered
The reflections move whenever i try to see behind them
A cold wind blows as Winter stretches his bones
A warm bed and a purring cat.

Varanasi

2009-03-25T22:25:00.004+11:00

My brother is going to Varanasi. It brings back a flood of memories of a city of magic, madness, beauty and filth, it's the city on the edge of the world, or perhaps right in the middle of them, a bridge between the worlds. I'm really excited for him, but also really wanting to be there to experience it again and make sure my brother is all right. It feels a bit like an opportunity lost, but i'm clear to that to be there would feel like an opportunity lost here. Win win lose lose, life is sometimes like that.

The intensity of memory, it so makes me want to be back there.

Shame

2009-03-23T22:42:00.002+11:00

Shame rears it's head, it's at the very core of me, facing me, a shambling monster hiding behind the mirror i see myself in... or is it just a crappy piece of glass... a city of gold built on a fetid swamp... into the gaping maw once more i go, boots strapped tight, the sword of clarity slung across my back and faint beacon deep inside my heart calling me home and guding the way.

Good

2009-03-20T00:16:00.000+11:00

Tired and frazzled, but juiced up with goodness, man time and magic.

Flowers

2009-03-13T22:30:00.003+11:00

It's interesting isn't it how we quite happily hold the genitalia of plants up to our noses and savour the beauty of their scent, how we, even in churches, prize the sexual organs of plants and put them in special places of note to be appreciated and admired by all.

And yet we repress our own genitals so heartily. When was the last time you put your nose to the genitals of a friend and inhaled deeply to see what this beautiful person smelt like? When was the last time you saw an artistic arrangement of human genitals on an altar at a wedding?

Curious questions indeed...

Fire

2009-03-11T07:35:00.004+11:00

We drove through the back of Kinglake the other day, on our way up to Yoga Camp in northern Victoria. It was a shock to see how intensely charred the landscape was. And made me appreciate really deeply the grace that allows me to be living without the brutal caress of the flames in my own home.

The black ribbon of bitumen wound its way through a silent landscape, the very earth itself blackened, the only other colour a dusty brown - the brown that exists when plant tissue has no water left in it. The shiny silver railing along the road highlighted the charcoal colours like a well chosen frame.

It makes me wonder how long the part of earth called Australia will tolerate us living here. She could starve us out all too easily. Burn us out all too easily. Or maybe she will wash us away just when we think we can adjust to living in a desert. The ferocity of the flames brought an awareness that maybe not even our comforting blanket of asphalt and concrete is enough to protect the heart of the city.

Slowly softening

2009-03-10T09:32:00.004+11:00

Another day, a grey one at that. The earth is slowly softening, there is a mist today lying across the valley which echoes the recent rain. There is a slight flush of green in the crisp brown grass. It's strange to see green in the fields nearby: even stranger how quickly we become used to something being dead. And disturbing how quickly the agapanthas have sprung back: they were just starting to look sick.

It will take a while to get used to this dry being normal, it will be fascinating to see how the plants and animals adapt and survive. Maybe that's why blackberries and agapanthas are here, they could be all that's left if this keeps up.

Camping again

2009-03-06T10:46:00.001+11:00

Off i go to camping again, the mad rush of getting everything together and inevitably leaving late.

Message from a Master

2009-02-28T07:22:00.005+11:00

Kimba the cat is sitting on my arms so one hand can only get to the bottom rhs of the key board. Not sure if i can actually reach the letter next to w. This was after nibblng on my fingers.

So what is your message o great Zen master? That it's ridiculous to be on the computer in bed at 7:30am on a Saturday when i've got a body to be present in and napping to do? Just possibly, it reminds me of another Zen master whose life deeply touched mine, Miso also had an issue with my love of the computer and would try to sit on my arms.

Perhaps i'd be more relaxed and chilled out if i could lick my own balls and anus. Entirely possible i'd spend more time in bed sleeping. Learning to be in my body when i'm on the computer is one of the challenges of the modern day conscious being.

Lessons past and present

2009-02-05T18:56:00.003+11:00

My grandfather is dead, the very embodiment of my inner judge, a man i've learnt to love exactly because of his sharp edges. It's such a strange mixture of emotions that accompany this, mixed as it is with the most challenging time in my relationship. Such a sense of loss, and yet of liberation, of stepping into myself, but of loosing part of myself, of power and weakness.

If only letting go of how i devalue myself was easy as typing these words, but it is far more graceful and profound than any words can convey, even if one of my strongest desires is to just curl up in a ball and let the world wash over me while i watch and fantasise that the stream ripples not as it carresses my body.

But that's not the message the cats in my live give me, much as it might seem. It is to be deeply restful, and to know that i am the hunter as long as i know that i'm the hunter. One lesson from my grandfather was to be yourself even when your weakness is thrown in your face, even when what you face is seemingly more powerful and stronger than you are.

And my lesson from tonight from my lover is to be powerful enough to believe in the journey even when she sees it not, even when the darkness consumes those you love, for it's just possible they have for a moment stepped beyond practice and are doing it: living the warriors path deep in the belly of the beast.

Don't

2009-01-27T23:20:00.001+11:00

I don't feel like writing today, but i'll drag my fingers along the keyboard and do it anyway just because i want to continue the practice of doing it.

Camping

2009-01-23T09:05:00.002+11:00

Like the rabbit with the clock running late... it seems always to be so with getting away, and that's when i want to be like a puppy lying on the floor at home hiding...

Just words

2009-01-23T01:21:00.003+11:00

Excitement as i'm off to Rainbow, tiredness as there has been so much to do. Some of which is still undone. Caught between wanting to hide under something and excitement about the possibilities of life and love.
Well, the picture function has just seized up. I guess it's time for bed.

100 Blogs

2009-01-21T23:48:00.002+11:00

This is my one hundredth post. A milestone of sorts that takes me to reflecting on the blogging adventure. It's one of those activities that feels necessary almost now, even though i don't get to it everyday, i miss it when i don't.

The practice of just writing, of just getting something out, of letting words flow, sentences form and meaning emerge. It helps, particularly when my life involves so much writing. I still contemplate that gap in wanting to live even more by the word, and move each day closer to finding out what gifts are in it for me.

Summer

2009-01-19T16:58:00.003+11:00

The flies buzz erratically as they slowly die in the windows, the wind stirs the trees but does little to ease the scorching heat, the cats lie as flat as possible and my sweat glands slowly seep precious fluid.

The dry grass bites bare feet and the asphalt is scorching, the reggae is sweet and the bubbling craziness of temple preparations keeps simmering away.

Summer is finally here.

Reality...?

2009-01-17T13:02:00.002+11:00

Dreaming myself into a new reality where i'm on top of everything, drawing on an extraordinary reality where i feel totally loved, supported and met, and feeling reality start to bend within and around me to accommodate these new feelings... interesting the power we have within us.

Teaching Tantra

2009-01-15T17:42:00.004+11:00

It's amazing the gifts the world brings you when you clearly ask, when you clearly intend. Increasingly over the last month or so i've had a growing clarity around teaching tantra: that i want to do it, that it's an important part of my life, and as such is an important part of my financial life.

And so i resolve, coming into the new year, that i'm really going to throw myself into it, really get this whole tantra business thing up on it's feet. And so i find myself at a conference that validates my capacity; i have a private coaching session that suddenly pops up; i find myself excited and interested and inspired. So much still to get in place, so much to get done in presenting the work, but it all suddenly feels very possible somehow.

Being here

2009-01-07T22:48:00.003+11:00

Scattered mind and heart plaguing me today. Do i really want to be here? That's the question i've been contemplating today. Intellectually i do, but there is a part of my heart that doesn't, and it's that part that over which i stumble before the finish line, that shakes my resolve, that clouds my intent. I want to commit and say yes, but what needs fall for that to become real? I sense the fear, and need time to brace myself as if knee deep in freezing cold water contemplating that dive in...

Dust

2009-01-05T22:57:00.002+11:00

I'm tired and washed. Washed for the first time in a week. My clothes and bedding lie close by, a pile on the floor, encrusted in dust. I'm not free of it yet. I feel like i've shed a skin over the last week, changes and transformations, surprises at how much i've grown, of how far i've still got to go. As the dust settles, i wonder if this is a year of consolidation, of closing lingering loose ends, of seeding a the new path that i've been dreaming of for so long. Gestation, foundations.

Mechanics of my mind

2008-12-24T23:33:00.005+11:00

I realised today that i keep getting stuck in thinking i have to everything at once. And then i spiral into despondency quickly afterwards. There is such a thing called a plan, and a plan that isn't overloaded. I'm thinking it's like when i started to take my spiritual practice seriously, i decided that the minimum i had to do was one minute. It was the most liberating, and motivating thing i'd ever done. There have only been a handful of days in the last 10 years that it's been that short. The joy of the approach is that everything above the one minute is because i want to, not because i have to. I recognise that in the world of obligations it's not always that easy, but to be honest i think if i'd had that frame of mind for the last couple of years i'd have got a lot more done, and been a hell of a lot more relaxed, and possible got a lot more things done on time. So often it's about the first step: it can be so small, but so hard. I'm looking forward to January and having some time to recalibrate. And the picture is because i watched a bit of Ocotopussy and it was filmed partly in India and REALLY made me want to go back.

How great are cats...?

2008-12-23T10:49:00.005+11:00

Really, how great are cats? They're sleeping away in my room, cuddled up together on my keyboard case, sending out very chill vibrations. It reminds me of miso, my old cat, best friend and spiritual mentor. He was always telling me to chill out, right up until his last day, i can still feel his mind drilling into mine.

These guys though are reminding me how lush it is just to be, and enjoy just being. And how much i'm looking forward to being able to do just that.

wandering mind

2008-12-22T21:47:00.003+11:00

The cats have been a bit frantic today. Is it the chicken mince i got them, emotional stress or worms? Hard to say. Funny because i've been the opposite, i've hardly eaten a thing, well until dinner at least. There seems to be a relationship between eating less and brain activity. Perhaps its because i'm not distracting the blood from my brain.

All very fragmented and words not motivated by inspiration, but by keeping the practice going... i guess that's the whole real point of it though isn't it?

eeep

2008-12-22T02:06:00.001+11:00

Late night mind mashing working to make happy goodness waiting for inspiration space time would only stop and let me rest.....

Sunshine

2008-12-20T12:05:00.003+11:00

It's a beautiful day. The sun shines gently warming the earth once again (as opposed to the backs of rain clouds), the pool sparkles and ripples, the air is full of the sounds of spring: birds, bugs and rustling leaves.

I'm dreaming of being out in the sun rather than at my desk admiring it, a dream that is increasing in potency due to both its closeness as well as my growing enjoyment of not having as many things piled up on the 'to do list'. I've ticked a few things off and it feels so exceptionally good, just like this sun shiny day. Strange how i can forget so easily what can be so good for me, but like the rain it's necessary too, but unlike the rain it's not necessary for ever.

Clockwork

2008-12-19T21:59:00.004+11:00

There are some things that make us less that we could be. I wonder if it's the same as what makes us what we could be? Or at least the flip side. I sit here wondering if my capacity is exactly my chain, my brilliance exactly my weakness.

A day of confusion has ensued after a couple of days of blazing activity. The cycles i find hard to ride, part of me wants to be able to hit the on switch on demand but the turning of the earth seems to have different ideas. I am not clockwork, but it seems that would be ideal.

Somewhere...

2008-12-17T19:07:00.003+11:00

There is a golden red sunset going on somewhere right now, and a soft dawn full of gentle pink hues. There is rain soaking into soil as someone huddles resentful of the wet and cold, and someone a smile dancing as the earth and plants drinks deep. There is sunshine somewhere right now warming the skin of someone dreaming of their lover, and someone hiding from the brutal onslaught of the suns rays. There is someone inspired making real their very life's purpose, and there is someone hiding desperately from the deepest whispers of their soul trudging out the hours. There is concrete encrusted on now barren lands, and rainforests exploding with life. There is someone completely unaware of their own mind, and there is someone totally aware of everything. And there is everything in between, the dawn, the dusk, the sun, the moon, the dark the light. And patiently i can't help but feel the earth gently watches lovingly encouraging of everything, and the sky holds open the very heavens, waiting for us to allow grace, to find ourselves.

Holidays and the return

2008-12-16T18:27:00.003+11:00

Mind slipping down slopes of egg filled belly tiredness. Glasses hold my head in comfort seeing only their own need to be useful.

The house is strangely quiet: we all miss the O'Foleys, the animals all feel a bit lost, the house itself doesn't quite know what to do with itself. I hope the sock monster in the roof doesn't starve.

Fresh back from Adelaide, as we drove along the freeway the intensity of anxiety hit me like a wall, un-checked messages on my phone lurked grinning at me evilly, a mountain of work, such a different world away from a romantic holiday on the Great Australian Bight where the wind smelled of the crisp salt ocean and the light sliced right through my mind cleansing, refreshing.

Waking on the coast

2008-12-15T10:06:00.004+11:00

Pine trees stand tall in front of the southern ocean, white fluffy clouds float in blue skies and birds lazily circle. Even through my fuzzy short sighted eyes the world has a clarity, a sharpness that has nothing to do with focussed edges. There is something magical about the coast, and especially about coastal Australia, there is a feeling, a spaciousness, a sharpness, a freshness that i've not ever seen anywhere else. Not that i've been lots of other places, but enough to get the idea that here is not like that many other places.

Victor Harbour is a curious place. It has a centre which oozes old world charm which qucikly slips into modern boxes of drap latte lifestyle minimalism, then into either bland burbs or classic 50's to 60's sea side holiday house architecture.

But now to breakfast!

love and loss

2008-12-14T21:41:00.003+11:00

I'm at once very aware of the loving goodness i have right here on the SA coast with a woman who makes my heart sing, and also of the sense of loss as a part of my family is flying further and further away from me. Well, physically at least. Its part of the danger and joy of loving is the increased capacity for all emotions, but also knowing that when that love is without boundaries and really doesn't end just because someone isn't there.

I'm looking forward to flying myself to New York, but am also looking forward to being a custodian of their home, and their hearts.

Art of Mind

2008-12-11T11:15:00.004+11:00

The art of the mind is a strange and always changing thing. Today it feels like a a thousand fragments of crystal spilling light in all directions, yesterday it felt like a laser beam. What has changed?

A shift of thinking from my frontal lobe to deep inside the middle of my head has been transformative over the last few days, but today i feel unable to pull the various streams of light together into a whole. I'm tired, and feeling that rising sense of panic i so often struggle with: understandably so, i'm really pushing the extended deadlines now.

Perhaps there is no reason, it's just how i am today. A very inconvenient thought.

Brain water patterns

2008-12-08T23:58:00.001+11:00

Today i'm coming from a place deeper inside my brain than i normally think, a place whose patterns would seem to form a link deep down inside my body: i feelthink! And it seems to work like some break in a circuit finally soldered, a puzzle whose pieces finally start making some sense, a new pattern emerges blossoming in my sun.

Water from the rainwater tank my body craves like a sponge lying dry on a sun filled kitchen sink craves the taps love just a short distance away.

Something is different, but again i will turn up with only just enough done... we shall see how the fruits of the inner struggle taste over the rest of the week.

Cold summers eve

2008-12-07T19:23:00.003+11:00

A cold wind rustles the grass, its fingers finding my feet sitting idle under the desk. An overcast sky is reflected in the rippling of the pool, in the coldness of the bricks, in the dullness of the light. Pink flowers smile into the grey day, the green grass vibrant still in the dull light. The day slowly turns, the birds singing and squawking as they settle in for the night.

2008-12-06T23:50:00.002+11:00

My brain did not really turn on today. There has been a dullness, an inability to really think articulately, to find clarity. I get a sense of clarity when i go into my body and listen to it, which is why i'm at home rather than with so many of the people i love at FRL.

The challenge is not to feel negative about it, to just feel here and enjoy it.

Family Love

2008-12-05T22:14:00.003+11:00

Curious watching those you love slowly leaving, holding an open heart and knowing that my saddness will be deep. Holding space while watching television, being one of the kids and one of the adults both at once. I wonder how long it will take before some part of my brain stops wondering when they're going to get home.

I'll miss Katherine's shy excitement about life, Tim's enthusiasm for sharing his world of computer games, comics, superheros and zombies, and Erin's love, wheelbarrowing, trampolines and love of attention.

And Stephen and Leanne, who have taught me how powerful love can be, and how love can be so deeply transformative, holding each other to the alchemical flame of transformation. The heart, crucible of transformation.

So much to miss, but so much to hold in my heart, keeping it glowing. I'll miss them, but i'll always feel so close to them.

The Brain

2008-12-03T23:58:00.003+11:00

The Brain works mainly in the sloshing of spinal fluid. Apparently the brain is highly advanced bone marrow. Does that mean my bones can think? What would they be thinking about then? Is that why when i smile into my bones it feel so good, it is a bit like smiling at my brain in how it makes me feel. How would i be if i thought with all of my bone marrow?

Hmm late night delirium and blogs made up a whisker before midnight in the quiet of the house broken only by the slap of finger on plastic and the hum of machines waiting...

Processing...

2008-12-02T22:34:00.005+11:00

I'm tired. I've been processing like a madman while my obligations to the world go stale. I've seen my demon lurking beyond my current project which is my fear of having the time and resources to actually really do what i want. This is a very real possibility and a very real fear. Also facing my every key stroke is the fear of inadequacy, the fear of driving myself beyond the limits of my body if i really let myself go into it and get inspired, the fear of failing to do any good and feeling that hollow feeling of defeat when i feel shattered.

But what i'm excited by is facing my demon lurking in the field of doing what i want. Is that motivation enough? Perhaps, i hope so. But then so is validating the fact that despite my beliefs around being a failure and feeling like i've not and will not live up to my potential i've done a lot of amazing things, had quite an interesting life, and have pulled of some remarkable adventures and created some really outstanding things in the world.

Holding the whole picture of me is something it's taking a lot of awareness to do, but is really quite enjoyable.

Change

2008-12-01T12:55:00.007+11:00

A mountain smiles cheekily at me. A fear of being ground to dust, of failing.

The sun beams gently down on the rippling pool; puff daddy clouds linger casually in the sky; it darkens like it could rain; the sun emerges again and my heart lifts.

I love this place but i feel the impending loss of my family, and am all too aware of spending hours tapping away at a computer rather than being able to fully enjoy them. All things change, especially children. At what point do we start trying not to change? Very strange behaviour that runs contrary to everything we see around us. And i've been just as guilty as the next adult of trying to hold on. And now bravely embracing whatever is i'm overwhelmed at times. Like now.

My little jade/money plant struggles back to life, just two little leaves on the end of one branch a bunch of little buds that have not moved in weeks. A little more love, a little more light, i want it to change, to grow.

Persistence

2008-11-30T23:52:00.002+11:00

Persisting is not really not one of my best attributes. I'm more like the autumn leaves making swirls of crunchy colour in the wind rather than the damp incessant persistance of winter rain. Both have their place. Perhaps i should go more for the intense persistence of the summer sun, or the boundless persistence of the ocean waves.

I come back to the breath

2008-11-26T14:47:00.000+11:00

I’m in a sea i’ve not navigated before; wrestling with a demon in whose grip I’ve been helpless for what seems an age. The gusting wind brings the stagnant comfort of familiar smells just often as the enticing fragrance of undiscovered flowers yet to bloom. The sea surges, fear ebbs and flows; at times the water towers above me; at times I sit, slack sail going nowhere; at times I bend into the fast wind of change; at times the sea drops in sheer cliffs either side.
Drenched and weary from the last storm, raw from the confusing chaos of stress, memories, emotions, work and dreams, my anxiety squirms and wriggles, trying not to be seen. I keep looking, holding it in both hands, breathing, aware of the ebb and flow of panic underneath wrenching in my gut, eating at my mind.

And I stay with it, out of sight of familiar land. At least the stars are still familiar; well as familiar as a sky only a couple of months old can be – since the last time the sky slid into the ocean leaving an infinite black dome through which stars slowly, mercifully emerged: pin prick holes into worlds of light.

And as it always will, the sun rises, eventually. I know that chasing it just lengthens the night. You do not find the sun by hunting it, but by being open to the dawn while hunting in the world of shadows. So I stay with it, riding my anxiety with my breath, going deeper into places I’ve not dared tread before, consuming and being consumed, knowing that something, somewhere, will change, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Knowing that dawn will come, I come back to the breath.

Body thinking

2008-11-21T22:51:00.003+11:00

The rain soaks into the earth. The earth moves as one body, the sun shines with it's whole being, everything dedicated to the task.
I need to think with my whole body. When i sit to work my awareness tends to concentrate rapidly in my head, i lose connection with my body. I lose presence. This phenomenon is, i would think, not an uncommon occurrence. For me it manifests in distraction, in skipping across the many things i have on and struggling to immerse myself in any one task. I boil rather than simmer. In other people i'm sure it manifests in all sorts of other ways.
A fun challenge.

Lost

2008-11-20T22:28:00.001+11:00

Lost in the mazes of my mind, the world slips away from me.

Saying what you need to hear

2008-11-19T22:21:00.004+11:00

I've been telling her everything i need to hear.

Persist. Keep going. Of course having a vision is going to kick your arse - it's the point, just keep going forward with open eyes.

Strange how we do that, and totally sensible. People and situations show up that help us to find exactly what we need to hear, even if it's out of our own mouths. Even if it takes us a while to realise it. Even if it's a tsunami bearing down on us. Such strange parallels shifting past within around each other.

I stand knee deep in a shallow water of pool gazing blankly at my reflection. The water creeps slowly up my pants like wax up a wick. Transfixed i try to work out who i see, lost in trying to see the depths of my reflection while the fish wriggle past and the stars wheel slowly overhead.

Depth isn't enough.

The act or art of doing

2008-11-19T00:05:00.003+11:00

...i don't think it really matters what i do, it is more that at some point i must do something, and hold the course, and feel the world change. But the more what i do is from my heart, the more likely i am to hold the course and persist, and i know it is only in doing my purest heart desire that i shall attain the vision i hold of myself.

But to find that purest of intent? Ah, i must act....

Screen Grime

2008-11-18T23:31:00.002+11:00

I cleaned my screen t0day, cleaned it of the dust and grime that had built up over weeks and weeks of waiting till i got exactly the right thing to clean it. It was a mere 10meters away from my desk.

Trolls and bricks

2008-11-17T23:23:00.005+11:00

Failure lurks like a troll under the bridge, and not just failure but totally screwing up. The mash up of amazingness and stress is the pressure cooker of find myself in, more interesting at least than just stress. A lot more interesting.

The troll, however, has a magic and story all it's own and it's eyes glimmer with the memories of life, love and loss.

Words fall like bricks from a wheelbarrow, clumsy and not really what i wanted, i was carrying them to make a bridge.

Exhaustion

2008-11-16T23:13:00.002+11:00

My brain falling into little pieces from exhaustion and stress,
Love, chocolate, sugar and alcohol all taking their toll
On what i think i should be doing, on who i think i am.

Everything feels thin, shadows dancing on a piece of paper
Torn out of an old crumpled up exercise book
And i too feeble to do anything but make rabbit shadows.

There is a way in which i betray myself by pushing too hard
My emotions scattered like toys in a playroom at midnight,
Yet the sharp edge lets insights out i normally would not speak.

There is a strange wisdom in exhaustion of not caring,
Of seeing things in a harsh light and not taking them on
But really i want to sink into the deep sleep of the ocean depths.

2008-11-15T16:43:00.003+11:00

The simple pleasure of just doing what needs to be done. Of persisting till the work is complete. There is a deadline, a natural gas BBQ that needs to be converted to LPG so we can have a weeding party and sear flesh (both meat and vegetable) in the way only a BBQ does.

And so the nozzles i need to get are really rare, and after 3 days of searching i give up, and of course that's when i find them, and they fit. Then when i fit them, the BBQ doesn't work because it was wasp nest at somepoint in it's life and i have to clean out dead wasp bodies and hive dusk from the whole thing.

But then, voom and whoosh, it works, and i feel happy, satisfied.

However i know that if it wasn't for the deadline, it wouldn't have happened. And i wonder why this was so easy to do, and other things are so hard.

Quiet Melodrama

2008-11-14T23:50:00.002+11:00

The house is quiet, black and white comic book film noir flickers through my head like a cinema scene from a slick film. Today was a skin of the teeth kind of day, making ends meet by doing way more than one day of work: in a focused flurry getting just enough words typed out to keep people happy, to keep afloat, to maintain the illusion that i'm not struggling with my demons everystep of the way, that i've not spent most of the week distractedly searching my soul and not being a well oiled cog. I wish i could focus like that everyday, but i guess if i did i might burn a hole right through the screen that my life plays out on; either that or get or so caught up in the flickering images i burn myself dry. I've done the later, and more than once. Now i fear it. I guess i don't have the faith i can do the former. Perhaps i don't want to. I guess i don't because i haven't, but then again i know i do. Or perhaps i believe that it will also burn me dry, that i'm afraid of my inner life being exposed as just so much tinder.

Or perhaps i just like being melodramatic sometimes, enchanted by my contradictions.

Work.

2008-11-13T16:46:00.000+11:00

It feels like a fractured landscape, a world that struggles to keep its morphic field intact: doorways to other places and other lives keep opening and closing beckoning and demanding; I try to hold it to some consistency, focus this place into a coherent whole that can contain my attention till I choose to step out – which I can do for a short time – but inevitably it crumbles again when the slightest bit of attention wanders or the will wavers.

I must ask myself: is this the place for me? Or should I Alice in Wonderland like follow the rabbit hole and see where it leads, and how much how deeply do I need to trust and let go?

Again and again we start again

2008-11-11T22:06:00.003+11:00

Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Again and again we start again
Until....

The script

2008-09-22T10:26:00.005+10:00

There are some events in life that are so deeply shocking, that expose behaviour patterns so fundamentally and so nakedly that we have to drop everything to pay deep attention to them allow ourselves to change. It has been such a time.

I'm sitting in San Francisco, in the Angel Cafe. An Arabic language cooking show is on, the roof and walls are draped with hessian, there is a little water fall feature in the corner with plastic plants and there is a soup on the stove that seems to involve lots of green beans. There is something familiar, almost Brunswick about the place.

I feel like i'm in some waiting room, waiting to enter back onto the stage after some time in a sub plot off the main stage. Most of the other actors and audience are expecting the same character but i've rewritten my lines and don't know how it will go. More than rewritten my lines though, i've found the motivation and behaviour patterns need to be different to fit the new purpose behind the character.

My hope is that i won't be forced back to the old script, my hope is that i'm able to really able to fly with it, and that my new script will change other scripts also.

Change is such a strange thing. In exposing the beliefs i had to change, i was faced with the question of what do i replace them with? This haunted me for some time. In the end i went back to intention, what is my intention, what lay underneath the beliefs? It is this i have tried to change, trusting that my behaviour patterns will change to fit a new, clear intention. It is this that causes me some trepidation about what has actually changed. What if, in the challenges of my usual life, i go back to the old ways? And what does that mean. I cannot spend energy worrying about this, but it sits there, and i must acknowledge it.

Change is such a strange thing. I shall find out how strange soon enough.

Adventure

2008-09-07T05:50:00.003+10:00

I'm an adventurer. This now i know deeply. I have, after a long struggle with myself, finally surrendered to this fact, and that surrender has been through stepping into my power. I was challenged deeply to step into it in the place where i usually don't, in the place where i'm most vulnerable, and it was exactly there that the power lay.
And the adventure? It's an approach to everything, and has been my path for a long, long time. I am other things too, and of course fundamentally i just am, but it is an aspect of consciouness i manifest with intense presence and purpose.
I am discovering in this an immense appreciation and love for myself, and am in deep gratitude for the gifts i've recieved, and the power i have to play my part in catalysing real change.

Wow

2008-09-06T11:40:00.000+10:00

Wow, i'm feeling so powerful, and so in love, and so loved, and so many boundaries are just dissolving and am healing on such a deep level.

Longing

2008-09-05T14:26:00.002+10:00

The yearning of the sea for the clouds,
The devoted adulation of the clouds for the forest,
The ecstatic embrace of the forests and the earth,
The surrender of the earth to the river,
The longing of the river for the sea.

Spa of life

2008-09-04T14:19:00.003+10:00

Being stuck in our shit is like being in a spa and seeing only the bubbles and froth on the top and thinking that's the spa, that's what's important, that's what's going on. When underneath them there is your whole body, and the spa jets, and simply just the glorious life giving water all holding you and giving you goodness without judgement. But mostly we wouldn't do that in a spa, we'd see the bubbles as just the froth from a deeper process, and sink back in and joy what is a glorious spa. So why then do we do it life? For all sorts of apparently good reasons i guess, but i'm beginning to think that maybe it's actually no where near as hard as we think to sink back into the spa of life and enjoy the journey.

A beautiful day

2008-09-03T13:51:00.003+10:00

A day of transformation. Suddenly everything that was bothering me so much just doesn't seem so important any more. It's still there, but i feel like i've got a new tool to be able to quiet the clamour, and that new tool feels lodged deep inside in a column of pure light.
It was a beautiful day today, the sun, humidity and breeze a gentle caress as light as the brush of lips on the skin, flowers in bloom but passing magnificently into autumn, the leaves just starting to yellow and float gently to the earth, the little cat still playing hard to get, the bugs buzzing and whirring in a chaos of excitement.

Long way from home

2008-09-02T14:41:00.002+10:00

I'm a long way from home, tired, wired, vulnerable and praying for the courage and clarity to surrender to this process. Today was a big day, and i've been clearer with my shit than ever i've been... and tomorrow, well i just try and hold an open space, and after that, well i'll just sit with the fears chewing in the back of my mind uselessly churning away. A path has been set, and surrender to it i must.

A bit of a ramble about tantra, sex and politics

2008-09-01T13:54:00.004+10:00

If everyone felt the kind of playful, clear, loving goodness that this really deep work brings then the world would be one very different place. Not that we wouldn't have shit to sort out, there's plenty of testament to that, but it would be different. What if every politician or executive had to go on a tantra retreat, or a meditation retreat, as part of being qualified for the job? What if the will to enquire of the self was seen as a fundamental part of assuming positions of power. The world would really be different. Many of our greatest and most inspiring leaders have had a spiritual perspective (for want of a better word) and have been at least partially involved in or influenced by a movement with an aim towards some kind of gnosis of the human spirit. Fundamental would be not being so messed about sex - it's got be one of the greatest motivators of human disaster, from the very small to the very large. The further i go in this journey, the further i dare to dream of a world that is very different to this one, where respect is the main currency and love the central bank.
But then i think of my greatest spritual teacher (pictured above) and i remember to slow down, stop struggling, and sleep more.

Ipsalu level 3 day 1

2008-08-31T06:53:00.002+10:00

And so it begins...

The memory of being in a week long workshop with a group of people stepping into themselves and willing to go deep had faded. It's alive and very present now. It's an inspiring place to be in. Just a few hours and a clarity of thought and mind and connection is already apparent. Doubts and fears drop away, just excitement, anticipation and a willful determination are left. And a deepening openess. Everyone here has consciously engaged with their journey, it's not often you get the privelege to be in that kind of space. I guess it's part of why i love teaching.

My mind and body are still feeling stretched from jetlag, but now more grounded, more whole. I do love this stuff, it's like a holiday but better.

Hope Springs – Holiday USA

2008-08-30T08:33:00.002+10:00

Yes, it does. Today we drove through the weird wilds of mid western Ohio. Very surreal stuff it must said, i felt like i was in some b-grade american movie where KKK sherifs ruled the town and the local equivalent of the mafia are a bunch of inbred hillbilles riding utes and cooking up mischief in the lab back at the farm.

The houses by and large looked run down, weather board mostly, all sort of bunched up and two stories the way American houses tend to be. There's not a single storey brick veneer in sight. The frayed lawns complimented the frayed houses, the frayed looking people, but were in contrast to the shiny new cars, well utes mostly, and by utes i mean big half truck things that were dreaming of growing up to be monster trucks.

There was a festival going on, or about to be going on, in one small town, hmm don't remember the name, half the town had turned out their sheds for garage sales... er thats yard sales here... there was BBQ corn a cooking, and a big sign saying God Save the Children. Lots of stalls with hand crafts, nic knacks, fried things and white bread. Sadly they didn't have a supermarket - we were on a mission for something not involving white bread and hot oil, but we managed to get out of there by promising that if we came across anyone thinking of opening a supermarket, we'd tell them to open it in that town, whatever it's name was.

San Fran Airport

2008-08-29T06:00:00.000+10:00

The mind bending effects of time travel. And place travel. Aeroplanes.
And the airports that are kind of the same no matter where you go, the only thing that really varies is the number of boutique stores.
We went to Berkely today, it was the first time in the US that i felt a depth to a place, a vibe, saw a critical mass of open (and hence spunky) people. Wierdest are the times where i forget I'm in the US, and then something really USA happens and i get startled into remembering. Like seeing US flags hanging out of a shop, or the cars are coming at me on the wrong side of the street as i go to cross, small things, but jarring.
And then there is the accent. It's like the US and Aussie accents are opposite each other, we are nasal with our vowels, they are nasal with their consonants. It's disconcerting to say the least. But the wheather is hot, and i'm tired and jet lagged and about get little sleep in a tired old plan where i can see putty in the joins of the walls peeling away and brown grime in the corners of the buttons on the arm rest.
Yay USA.

JET LAG

2008-08-28T16:02:00.002+10:00

Jet lag is my dominant modality tonight. The day has swung between intense tiredness, delving into Chaos Magic theories, a beach trip, an underlying flatness and the occasional bout of confusion. Oh and my organs aren't happy about having to adjust to being here. The hotel room is nice and i've had some great food. Sleep, sweet sleep, honey you never smelled so good...

Airport waiting lounge

2008-08-27T13:58:00.003+10:00

Sydney airport, awaiting to board a great flying beast that will take me to unknown shores, to an adventure that will take me to some of the deepest parts of myself. Excitement, trepidation, weariness, resignation, i feel like appreciating this time with myself is important, because i'm not sure i'm going to walk out the other side quite the same. In fact my intention is to not. My intention is to walk eyes full open into the pain that lurks at the very core of me. We'll see.

Gluing the wings on

2008-08-27T00:04:00.003+10:00

It always takes so much energy and effort, wondering if you've got everything, leaving so much behind, spending hours making sure the computer is backed up and i've got enough music on me to spend the entire trip listening to it when i'll just scratch the surface....
And there's those things you just let go of as you weren't going to get them done anyway.
And there is the process already begun of delving into the deepest recesses of the heart and throat chakras.

And the overwhelming, simultaneous and conflicting desires to go to sleep and stay up all night manically doing stuff.

Cats, friends, man and magic

2008-08-26T01:29:00.002+10:00

There is a cat on my lap. She purrs and wiggles and paws and snuggles on my lap, loud and proud and knowing exactly what she wants: a warm lap.

I walked along the Yarra River today with an old friend who i have a deep and, walked in the dusk as lights glistened, past the ferris wheel, the river lay rippling slowly like a molten mercury. Some friends you love and perhaps in another life you would fall in love with them, or have, and it resonates. This happens a lot.

As i rushed today my heart hang tattered in the breeze. It was nice to have so much to do otherwise it would want to eat my mind - it's hungry to be filled.

Today i met with my magical men and talked of magic and power and testicles and sex and drew runes and cards and resolved to keep grounded and hone our metal. Magic is the ability to will a change in our perceptions. I saw an oracle machine today, a fragment of chaos magic about to be released into the world.

I take another step, a step into tomorrow, a tomorrow of dreams and adventures and a tank full of juice with the brake cable gone.

Unsettled

2008-08-24T21:19:00.002+10:00

Tired and unsettled, nurtured and held, pain and love, a strange dance with that which i fear to dance with, better to walk powerful alone in tattered robes noble in your brilliance it says rather than dance with danger resplendent in the palace of desire: there is no fork in this road, just ahead with eyes closed or open, naked, stripped of my power, just human, alone. Loneliness sings her siren song and i sway helpless in her cold embrace, no matter how loved and held.

sleep and flood

2008-08-23T17:15:00.005+10:00

Slept long finally last night and now the next day sets sun and thoughts of storms and floods down melbourne streets hang in the edges of my mind. Of what do city streets dream? Of the creeks that once bubbled along their length, now drainage pipes like salt hardened arteries, or of the ghosts of creatures long gone and living a half life still in the darkness, nightmare creatures with no eyes like fish from the deepest dark of the sea, or of the return of the fish into pipes and drains and mating high up in toilet bowls and drain holes in a city consumed once more by Her loving but savage embrace. Indeed, of what do streets dream?

Loose ends and waterfall in Collins St

2008-08-22T20:43:00.002+10:00

Celebrations for my last day, wine and fine people, and suddenly i'm whisked off to help on a research project and writing an art submission about fish, pipes and waterfalls in Collins St. The power blog, oh yeah.

Rain, a bridge and a goddess

2008-08-21T23:05:00.005+10:00

Rain seeps into every crack as crickets rasp their noisy legs in frog like sounds; the distant murmur of the olympics and the noise of words struggling to wakefullness; a strong desire for bed and a road stretching ahead; accomplishment of sorts and failure of sorts the usual preserve of the perfectionsist; shakespear in aussie accents with teenagers and someone doing egg farts in the audience; pine veneer desk scattered with papers and a litter of electronics; a bridge to cross foundations rickety and it looks so luch on the other side; understanding slowly what it is to live with all my heart and seeing a joyful shining all around me; there is a goddess living inside me and in everyone i see and she whispers to me of love.

Wilful Surrender

2008-08-20T23:49:00.003+10:00

A new experiment, a new inspiration, an emerging yoga: wilful surrender. Our Ipsalu workshop tonight was the first step in exploring an idea that, in foresight, has been lurking behind a number of conversations Leanne and I have been having over the last few months. The basic question is: can you teach/support someone to want to go into their shit?

At the heart of that, of course, is how do we do this for ourselves?

The program tonight was great, inspiring and a great bunch of people with a willness to go in deep, it never ceases to amaze me how closed and crumpled up people can be walking in, and how open and sparkling they can be walking out, it's one of the things i most love and value about this work of teaching.

But this new yoga we are exploring, it feels like it's emerged mushroom like from the compost of our discontent around a few issues, but also from the sunshine and rain of our enjoyment of teaching and exploring and creating. It's an exciting adventure in conscousness.

The invisible stairs

2008-08-19T18:54:00.005+10:00

Twist, turn, walk, run, go backwards, dig trench, fill trench in, dig trench again... the feeling of report writing, i just want it done, i've had the idea, gotten my head around it, know what needs to be done... surely there's a program or a machine that will just write it for me... but i guess that misses that feeling of satisfaction you get from having done it, the hard slog, otherwise you could just get a machine to live out your life for you but then again having a machine to do all the hard work and i get to just play... is that such a bad idea? Or should i just play? Why do i keep feeling the need to work hard... i stand at a fork in the road, down one road lay rest, play and poverty, down the other lay hard work and success... i close my eyes, breathe deeply... i open them, 'ah!' there it is, the invisible staircase going upwards out of this dualistic delusion, upwards to a place of play and reward where the sun shines from every cell of my body and i'm filled with laughter and my work is continuos with joy and a natural product of my existence: but it does take courage and a trusting childlike joy to climb those stairs... i breathe deeply again and put one hand on the rail...

Killed by clouds

2008-08-18T22:28:00.004+10:00

Nearing the end of my project, there's writing the report. Writing the report and trying to pitch it just right so that something is actually done. I've gotten so immersed the subject matter, i really just want changes to happen now. For some people it's a matter of life and death whether our institutions choose to spend resources on heatwave adaptation. But there are constraints, the constraints we perceive, the constraints we create, the constraints of the real world: the 'real' world that looks increasingly flimsy the deeper my awareness and exploration of consciousness goes.

But does it really matter if we're killed by clouds? The earth will still turn, life will still grow wherever it can, consciousness will still arise in remarkable ways. To us it matters, but so often we act as if it does not. And is death such a bad thing? These are not thoughts that make it into the report (and they are just the light through the keyhole), and barely in the office, although i let them creep out now and then and i can see that people know exactly what i'm talking about but they don't want to think about it.

I do want to think about it, but the energy and effort it takes to stand in two worlds, to be able to put aside the more subtle wisdom, to be able to act and produce within our institutional constructs that simply cannot deal with this kind of fundamental questioning, takes an increasing strain on my being. What would happen if only spoke from this deeper place? That is the question of the moment....

Tired and ecstatic

2008-08-17T23:38:00.002+10:00

Magic on the lunar eclipse, sleep weariness, qi gung and testicle massage, energy and intention, an inspiring weekend, and now for the pressure cooker this week...

Lunar eclipse

2008-08-16T21:40:00.002+10:00

Moonshine, rain pelts, men gather, the soul of the world calls, siren song to our sense of adventure, fruition, challenging ourselves to the very depths... gifting ourselves with the power to be fully ourselves.

Listening....

2008-08-15T23:05:00.005+10:00

OK, so lets start that again... each day a blog.

But what i noticed in not doing my blog is how much i don't notice sometimes the little subtle urgings and prompts that encourage me to do, the guides to the way of least resistance. There were a couple of times where i had the thought to do my blog when i was on the computer, but i thought no i'll do it later, when i've finished what i'm doing (which was struggling with my heatwave adaptation report).

There in fact times yesterday when i thought to do a number of things that would have been more successful and productive and interesting than going nowhere - i got the wind up me for the report later, but so much of the good juice was just tipped down the drain. And this happens again and again and again.

I think it's time to leave behind doing that, and to start dancing with the muse on a bit more of a whim... after all if it's evolution in 5th gear that's going to be going on in the near future, we're all going to have to really learn to go with our subtlest intuition. A world where everyone listens deeply would be a really intersting place to be...

Return of the harmonicblog

2008-08-13T18:32:00.003+10:00

It's been a while, the ebb and flow of so many things, and i've missed writing everyday, there is something within me that deflates slowly the further i am from just letting my creative spark speak through my hands. Being moved is such a delicious act of love.

But today, a new little adventure in blogging starts, and it starts right here in this dim little office where i've been frantically typing out a report on heatwave adaptation. I'm keen to explore in more concentrated depth the interface between climate change, culture, evolution and consciousness. And i've got the challenge that i'll be in the USA in two weeks time and i'll be in a tantra workshop for a week... going to have to work out this mobile blogging thing. Will be interesting to see what i write in that context!

Words glorious words.

Dreams

2008-07-23T16:39:00.000+10:00

Strange Dreams last night. In the middle of the night sometime I half awoke, and was caught with a strong urge that to roll over and look behind me. I didn’t. I don’t know whether my intuition said don’t do it, or whether my fear said don’t do it. They can be hard to tell apart sometimes, and sometimes they seem the same.
I awoke this morning startled by my alarm and not knowing where i was or in which direction I faced. Feeling half in a labyrinth of dreams, I stumbled up, and headed out into a world that’s the common reference point we call reality, a thin slice of mind wedged amongst our dreamings upon which our feet tread so heavily.

Caught between

2008-07-19T14:20:00.004+10:00

I feel today caught between. Caught between wanting to stay in bed, go out and see friends, write, play music, eat, fiddle around on the computer.... mostly from going too fast all week. But, it's a beautiful day, a beautiful house, a beautiful world.

But i'm really feeling the call of adventure, and something deep inside is whispering to me of blue skies, endless scrub and a deep subtle sense of humour.

I don't want a lover

2008-07-14T21:24:00.006+10:00

Sometimes it's the very simple things that escape us. Sometimes it is that which we keep saying to others that we most need to hear ourselves. Often, actually, if not almost always.

So i've been in a heavy slump the last week, feeling the loneliness that is as familiar as the underwear i put on everyday, feeling the weight of 18 years of short lived and painful romances. Well, all except a couple that were longer than the rest, and proportionatly painful. And only long because the rest are so short. And i've been talking a lot about finding the gift, finding the gift in any situation, accepting it for what it is, and that things are as they are because we want them to be so. And meanwhile i've been struggling and raging and despairing about my own reality.

That reality is that i don't actually want an intimate relationship/partnership/lover. I know this because if i really did want one i'd create it, i'd make it happen. If i really wanted one i'd will it to be so. And i do create the beginnings of them, but that's really about it. The feeling of openess and peace this thought has brought me is immense, even if it's realisation was the feeling of a wall being sundered apart. Now that the wall is no longer there, i realise how much it was bothering me, how much it was blinding me. I still don't know why i don't want a relationship (oh of course i've got ideas, and associated memories, but there is something deeper), and i do know why i want one, but it doesn't really seem enough compared to the strength of the counter current.

So, having eaten my own words, i feel an openess, a peace, a new beginning to i know not where. I finally listened to myself, to the words i needed to hear: this is, therefore i will it. It's almost a whole practice unto itself, an exploration on the sharp edge of acceptance that feels like a fresh breeze blowing over a new day.

Thoughts on Love

2008-07-06T19:22:00.004+10:00

Living with an open heart, living with love, can sometimes be brutal. We close down, hide our hearts away when it all gets a bit much, a bit too intense, or a bit too threatening to our identity. And sometimes, perhaps, we need this. Perhaps. But it also closes us off to learning about ourselves.

There is room for little else on this path. Not if you want to keep your feet on it, not if you want to fulfil your souls deepest evolutionary will. The only other thing is awareness, consciousness, and that, when held gazing steadily on love, becomes love, and love becomes consciousness. I guess that's kind of the point of the whole existence exercise.

But love is not demanding, it is our choice, suffer or love, and love is quite happy to have us suffer as she knows that our suffering will just make our love all the more profound when we finally turn our whole selves to her. But she demands, in the end, everything. To surrender totally, to see only love, to be only love, and it is this that we resist with a will powerful enough to stop the universe, for it threatens the fragile identity we invest so much in - an identity that seeks to claim the gifts given to us as our own.

But to remain open when those deepest parts of ourselves hurt with a sharpness that cuts the very fabric of our hearts, hurt with the pain of our resistance to those beliefs about ourselves to which we cling so dearly. Loneliness, rejection, doubt, alienation, fear... they stir, sentinels guarding a self from that which both heals and destroys.

Remaining open and dwelling in pain i can see Love clearly, and i want to run from her consuming embrace (like usual), hide myself away, but i do not, but neither do i know how to embrace her. And still it feels like i live half a life. But at least i can see clearly for once the hopelessness and potential of my very human situation, and am keeping my heart open no matter how much it hurts.

Another step, another layer peeled painfully off my beating heart.