The more I find out about myself, the less I need to try to be me, because I see I am everyone. Everyone is a Pixel of Humanity.
We are born out of love, with our share from birth of the mysteries of the creative power of peace.
All individuals arrive with the fabulous history of our birth. We are all formed by the essences of peace and love, which are the foundations of continuing primitive survival.
From the time we can conceive of our own truth, those truths are understood as elemented by peace and love.
What are those powerful moments of our earliest understanding of some essential shared truth about our condition, if they are not moments of powerful peace?
Ah, the beauty of our very first rainbow? The first reveals of the answer to “am I alone?”
There are ways to find myself. It can be like mining for treasure. The essential nature of the individual is Peace and Love. When I see these as starting points for finding my truths, then the truths of myself are seen as the same as the truths of all others. This is the basis of the compassionate view.
The amazing thing that comes from the compassionate view is that we all suffer through the time of our birth and on from there for all our days.
The will to search for the ways to remove that suffering is powered by our will to survive hand-in-hand with original will to live.
The common values we share are seeded by our ‘birth-day’ gifts of peace and love which we protect and nourish with our instincts of survival.
How we choose to do this throughout life is what can add value throughout our time alive for ourselves and most importantly for others.
Our choices can make us amazing. Our choices can also lead us into a living death, as with acts of savage barbary.
We all have unlimited potential for realising our value through compassionate action.
Choose to discover your heart. It is no speleological expedition! Simply smile towards your heart, and your heart will smile back at you with all the disarming heat of the first smile of recognition between lovers!
Wear your heart on your sleeve.
The more I know about my heart, the more I love how my heart loves me, and the more I know myself to be everyone.
As I wake up this morning
may today illuminate
inside me new
awareness
of the arch-old
life affirming energies,
up to the point that
I turn around and
recognise
their beauty
for the first
time
There is a current, a flow of power, which beckons, asks to be found.
From the earliest age of the dawning of reason, it asks to be heard.
On my own in a wild garden, small under trees, I, a little boy, caught the drift of it.
It came from a crystalline heart. It showed itself in my throat in the form of a tune voiced into my solitude. A solitude for the first time become great with meaning.
The melody is always the same. It is a grand, a grandiose orchestral pursuit. Cathedrals, temples, chambers of the heart can hardly contain its sacred theme.
The riff I sang matched the mood of this boy. Later, I went into our thatched cottage at the end of the mud track in the isolated hamlet and I sang it to my Mother. She made a motherly nice comment.
As a young man, I began to recognise themes of this homespun improvisation in the music of others, and this is how I knew myself to be one melody, a part in a common harmony – a pixel of humanity.
I never fully remember it. I never developed it into a memorisable form. I kept it private, I keep my ‘plaint’, my ‘keening’ as it is a forever balm unto my unknown, hurting, longing heart.
Today I sprout in these lonely lines this remembered memory of memory, and the flame of its flower is a visible wonder to me, father to myself.
Exactly like the passage of a rainbow, it beckons to the senses. It will never be captured.
The bass notes inflame, while the melody maddens like the sempiternel arch-old songs of the Sirens.
This is a Hiraeth, sacred music which can only be bashfully reflected in the performance of various forms – poetry, dance, painting, sculpture.
The more ephemeral is our way of mirroring the force of its current, the closer we come to tap into and draw purpose and courage from the strength of the Muse. It is all mystery and achingly longed-for strength.
The presence of strength; the strength of presence. This is a reflection of the power of the eternal present
On the logarithmic scale, the human being stands at around the halfway point between the extreme small of subatomic particles and the extreme large of astronomical stellar aggregations.
It feels like I’ve been thinking about my place “here” for around 70 years.
One thing is clear, and it feels good, very good. I’m a part of it and the spirit of me is at home in my skin.
This idea of Cosmos of staggering, overwhelming, even crushing bigness makes no sense at all in the context of the peace at the centre of the spirit of me, of you, because Love is present EveryNow ~
[Galaxy cluster, IDCS J1426.5+3508, 10 billion light years distant]
“Feel the peace and beauty of connecting to your heart…”
I am always of the belief that it is possible to walk “through” the Stargate portal and to have an insight so immediate and all pervasive that your pain and hurt, every trace, drops away, and at last you can “let it be”.
This is an insight into love absolute, a place, a real place, where fear evaporates before it can take shape.
You must know I have had the good fortune to pass through some form of Stargate portal. To reach here, I had to have lived more than a handful of decades, to have retired, and to have experienced release from over 40 years of the nine-to-five treadmill.
I have undergone several epiphany experiences, closely accompanied by some shining, new, rare and true Soulfriends.
Before you arrive in the presence of such a magic portal, it’s likely you’ll still need to arrive at more journey destinations on the way.
You will need the Companionship of Time. Time to see the places you visit for their unidentifiably curious, fluid flowing shapes as they take root inside you. Time to tear down overgrown undergrowth, so you can see yourself clearly in the old stations of the journey.
The Companionship of Time is what you’ll need to allow the real significance of your arrivals and departures to carve deep grooves from which ancient tears are released. It will be necessary to allow their springs of redemption to overflow into your present you for the first time.
Only by touching courageous naked feet fearlessly onto invisible stepping stones such as these will you understand your leaden ankle weights and dragged shackles represent nothing so much as illusions.
Released, you will walk tall, and it’ll be the walk of your life!
The structures that have become so vital to the security and safety of your known self and to which you have devoted so much energy in their construction and maintenance, these are structures you have become accustomed to handle in a conscious, deliberate and deliberative way. You have framed them in finite phrases, as for example: “weights and shackles”.
Just like you, I know you can always stand in the light of your own being at a moment’s notice.
You may be moved to seek help, and find it with an intermediary. You may find the light of your being homes in on you of its own accord, with the searchlight beam of your own unsuspected, unexpected lighthouse.
This can shock, startle and even perplex you.
You may be faced with a choice.
Do you accept the fact that your soul is staggeringly beautiful? Do you accept that your own heart beats out love-songs of praise and glory to you?
Or do you opt to refute the experience, and in doing so tell yourself platitudes handed down to you from the bland limp phrasebook of socially acceptable conformity?
This encounter with the happening magnificence of your being has not any words to enscribe, describe or circumscribe it. It’s yours before question or answer.
I say the nature of our being is independent of question or answer.
You have already entered many times into wordless wonder of living. You know it as an extreme that happens extremely.
You are far closer than you can begin to imagine to the shimmering entrance portal through which the glories of living are too intense for words of any kind.
The space, the extremely real place, perhaps the only reality, and which ever glows at a constant brightness (the “bright” of peace and the “ness” love), is the directly lived experience, the Now.
Now is not a mere moment. Now is every moment, suffused to saturation with infinitudes of beginninglessness and endlessness – I call it EveryNow.
EveryNow exists complete, without reference to a frame of words. EveryNow exists in completeness, independent of whether it is thought of, or sought after.
EveryNow exists completely and it is unaffected by being ignored, or overlooked either by negligence or on purpose. Blink, and you can find yourself in it… it in you.
All you need is to be ready. Ready for the invitation.
If you give any of what I describe a modicum of credence, then your best tribute to it, and to your own innate beauty, and to your instinct of self-preservation, is to be ready.
You owe it even to your inner conviction, your most privately held personal view that the invitation to EveryNow is but a schmaltzy, superfluous, rose-scented pink cloud, to be ready.
The way to get close enough to the magic of EveryNow, so that it can guzzle you all up into its roseate field, is to be prepared and ready to accept its invitation card: Infinity. Infinity invites everyone all the time with EveryNow.
Wakefulness is as precious as sleep. Remember sleep arrives bearing a unique gift. Sleep sleeps close to infinity. Sleep is a hallowed gift. Wrap yourself in it with respect, give yourself into its mystery. Sleep well, dear Heart
I am haunted by a cry that escaped from my Mother while she was very depressed.
I think she may also have suffered from Bi-Polar but in the early 1960’s there was little or no understanding of it.
She said, “I have been a bad mother to you!” Absolutely not, of course. And I did try to tell her so.
She died many years later in 1975, and by that time she had found a tremendous amount of peace and personal reconciliation.
However, she could not have known how my life was to become one of success in terms of peace of mind, stability, and my ability to maintain myself in quality employment.
Still less could she have guessed or even believed that I would become a happy father of a sweet healthy family in a long term loving relationship of conventional marriage. Forty-one years and counting.
Some things are only given to us to fully know at some distant and unknowable point. In the grand timescales of the Universe. Cause and effect may be linked, yet the threads of connection are forever beyond our everyday understanding.
There is a somewhere where she knows we are all healthy and happy.
For this my heart is at peace. For this my gratitude has no end.
I know this… You and I and all of humanity are subject to the same mysteries of love on immensely grand unknowable cosmic timescales
“… When you talk to yourself in your mind, which self do you address? And how? Usually people do not talk to their divinity, but to the most superficial aspects of their everyday personality.
And often its a stream of fears, and mindless repetition of old things. If we talked that way to another human being, we would have to apologise.
Learning to talk properly to the self is a spiritual endeavour. Thoughts from the past and worries about the future do not create good conversation. Instead learn to talk to your mind as if it were a child. Talk to it with love.
If you just force a child to sit down, it won’t work. A good mother knows how to prompt her child into doing what she wants.
Be a good mother to your mind, teach it good, positive thoughts so that when you tell it to sit quietly, it will. Love your mind. Speak, stay happy… ”
~
Peter Pilley 20160816:
This advice from “Companion of God” by Brahma Kumaris, Dadi Janki is absolutely spot on, true and brilliant.
I say, speak to your own mind with all of the vocabulary of love that you can find. You have a wide and extensive memory full of loving phrases, love songs, love lyrics. Use these at every possible opportunity!
And become more and more inclined to reach out to yourself and to those nearest and dearest to your heart with these words of admiration, encouragement, praise and simple smiling kindness.
Let drop expletives, and rough-cut gutter words, because they can all be substituted by exclamations of positive surprise, even of love.
If you stop, make time for yourself, because there is something you can do. I do it.
Eyes closed, touch your fingertips into your own heart in a peaceful moment of open enquiry.
Put any smile on your face, and it is your smile to your own heart. You will see that all your heart ever wants to do, all it ever wanted to do, is to sing songs of love to the glory of you.
It’s what hearts do! And with practice, this is what you can see more and more clearly.
All of self love begins with conversations full of positive words, and reassurances.
I’d be inclined to first seek out those in my circle who have the honesty and compassion to say such things to my face…
And listen to them. And believe their words are sacred, because it is their heart who speaks ❤️❤️❤️
¡ Freeing myself from my illusion of lack of self worth!
Last week in the guided relaxation at the end my Yoga class, my teacher was reminding me to thank my lungs for their ability to breathe, to thank my heart for its vital sustain of rhythm, and then she suggested I be thankful to my Soul!
Well I never did hear the like of such a thing before! Nevertheless, I duly went to my soul and I was thankful.
That’s when I saw the image of an eye form in my mind.
It was like a black and white artist’s pencil drawing. Undramatic, realistic. Just this eye gently looking off to the left. I saw it has bushy eyebrows. This was my eye! I was seeing the gentleness in me as others may see it, but I was gazing appreciatively for the first time at serious, nice “me”.
My surprise dissolved the image. However, I was still in a deeply relaxed state, and so I returned to look, still with my eyes closed, at the pleasant sight of the the rest of my own features began to take shape as well.
I had the reaction, “Did you see that!” as of someone in the front seat of a car, who turns round to say to the person on the back seat, who has seen and who knows.
Ever since I had this incontrovertible confirmation of me as my own friend and companion, my heart has been singing new and carefree tunes. I say “ever since” … it’s only been three days!
The strange thing is that my ability to see and say this, and now to accept it all fully as being who I am, has been “gathering” itself together during these last five years since 2013.
My best truth about myself I can say from that time of opening is that, “I am love”.
Strange, because the newness is the main flavour. The newness doesn’t diminish, it continues to grow, so that I feel I date my beginning and I look over my “past” as from 2013. This is the year I call the Year of my Life.
I am able to express this feeling, this impression, directly with few people.
The flow of this abundant spring of natural joy compels me to shine and shout and share.
The odd thing about this knowledge of my original selfhood is that the more I feel intensely I am a pixel in a beautiful picture of humanity, the more I find myself in a new minority.
And so, I open to share with those few whose gentle timeline is also scored with similar music. Music sounded is one of the purest examples of the way light arises, shines, and is refreshed from Awareness.
You, I, we are not alone, though.
You, I, we, all are gifted at birth with this Awareness. It’s a wonder strange and so very good to think we are all in the company of living Angels!
My personal photo walking tour of a remarkable spa town in the State of Minas Gérais Brazil. The place where my wife grew up. A place of community, of generations of people who matter to each other. A place of intense impressions of calm and colour and rooted existence. A place of love that my camera rejoices in.
~ Love flows EveryNow…
The established trees along this rushing stream are participant to the continual flow of it.
I may enquire, because there are answers.
Ask then. What of the highly recognisable rush of the waters that draws our attention with its sound and vision?
And what of the reality of this noise and movement to the deaf-blind trees’ long life.
Ask what of the reality of the waters’ journey in terms of the immobility of the trees?
This scene contains answers.
It does not make any request of a viewer. It does not require a response from a viewer. It does not require a viewer.
The power of these watery flows, and their relationship to the land in which they are in motion are entirely sufficient unto themselves.
We, you and I, have no input whatsoever.
What may be gifted to me to notice, when I place my awareness between the waters and my heart, is the mysterious non-attached love which exists and which is the love-attractor for the continued existence of the riverside trees
I’m deeply attracted to those remaining places where insect life reigns.
These noisy, twigling, wriggly, knee-high places remind me of me in the early 1950s.
Where grassy meadows do richly teem with countless varieties of colourful insects, winged and not winged.
Long-legged. Short legged. Antennae that wave so thoughtfully.
Huge wings spread out of small wing cases with dizzy quickness.
Compound eyes saturated with alien intelligence.
Knobbly impossibly miniaturised knees. Prehistoric fang-spikes set on dry thighs. Body hair for defence, not warmth.
Respect for the tiny weapons that can hurt small children so much.
I’m a little boy again. I am fascinated to discover and observe brightly coloured, fleshy caterpillars, and moths with rich decorative symmetrical patternings, like colour illustrations from the pages of my Jules Vernes science fantasy book.
Camouflaged crickets with military markings. Crackly green grasshoppers crawling and jumping out away from me, everywhere I walk.
I see these populations using their brains to absorb what their senses say to them. The blood red ones cluster on white cowparsley flowers to feast on tiny nectar pots. Some pause, and are distracted to mount one another.
The stench of cowpats, not repellant to me, sometimes attracts horseflies. I soon learn they can deliver a sting far more powerful than stinging nettles.
Pollen smokes off the grass panickles. The loud cawing of rooks around the crown of the giant elm tree. Is it hunger? Fright? I am curious about their recognition of stimuli whose inflows are invisible and unknowable to giant little me.
In response to their needs, insect innards compel them like lightning into unprovoked instant propulsion.
Zero-to-Cheerio in less than the blink of my eye. Gone. Undiscoverable except to their own kind!
See them all today. They are in perpetual motionlessness.
See them exposed in thin rows and rectangular ranks. They are pinned to white boards under sheets of glass in the reference shelves of natural history museums.
How long ago was this great gleaning? Not long after me, a little boy, utterly lost to wonder, had gone away to be schooled.
Not a long time later, almost all would be disappearing. Insufficient numbers for a quorum, let alone for a tapestry carpet of rowdy noise.
Imperial Chemical Industries and others began to send swarms of besuited salesmen out into the countryside.
They rode their cars through puddled single track lanes to offer the farmers guaranteed yield increases and government approved blandishments impossible to ignore.
I do so love insects, specially insects in huge gatherings in long grasses together.
Their noisy and visible presence are blessings on us humans.
They signal to us by their sounds, by their intermittent reveals from out of hiding, and by their flashes of semaphore sightings that theirs is the dance of fecundity in the Big Green – the precious green space we all of us share and completely depend on – the natural ecology
The creation of trust in myself and the learning of how to trust others takes real time.
We are not mechanical beings. We are suffering creatures. We have no switches to throw. No switches to start or to stop suffering.
What I do have is me and time.
This points to one of the many reasons why the time we all have is not for idly wasting. Our lives are finite, our time here together is limited. We can rise above these limits. We can transcend them for a while together. We can fly.
If I fly, I do so accompanied by great joy. To learn to have wings to fly in all honesty and integrity I need time.
I need Time to learn to live. Time to learn how others live. Time to learn the languages of love. Time to heal from pain inflicted and pain afflicting. Time to reflect and to be grateful. Time in which to lose all that I am and all that I have. Time for sharing all of these as widely as possible.
If I use all the time I have…
if I revere and sanctify the precious gift it is, then my life and my end of my life
become one and the same moment !
I live my moments in the peace of a force ten gale. The more I welcome my life which rips me and rips through me in real time, the more I approach with joy the end of my time.
The end of my time clothed only in peace
* In real time *
At the lighting of dawn’s light I saw with speechless horror that night had turned its back on me and would not shield me from view.
And so I understood my time had arrived.
I completely gave up the impossible battle with myself.
The pain stopped. It stopped like a drawn out shriek run out of breath.
Courage took hold and I dared to start over with no assumptions, no power of control.
The words and deeds I had been in such desperate need of found expression in my throat.
I found I could act on the deeds I had thought were utterly beyond my capacity.
I walked forward. It was a never before. It was an ever-after. It was unimportant if it was day or if it was night. I stepped into my power. A fish that moves by barely moving, and then is not seen!
Words don’t fail me now.
Words return from their pilgrimage beyond the distant horizon where I know my soul extends, and they break in salty surf on the beach – faithful, compliant, rhythmic.
ALL SHALL BE WELL; AND ALL SHALL BE WELL; AND ALL MANNER OF THING SHALL BE WELL [Julian of Norwich]
I never look back since that long fruitless night of prayer.
I do nothing to light the way.
The way is lit.
The way is inexpressibly beautiful always.
I choose thoughts, because I can.
I choose long and hard, enough that I dwell on thoughts of love.
I choose to look out for the vocabulary of love.
I choose the means to make the mouth of the mind clear for loving.
I give no home in my mouth to words of fear or hate.
So choose!
Be bold enough to speak out loud about love, always and everywhere.
One fine day, you will pause, and you will see a beautiful person steps to meet you.
A beautiful figure treads a path that lights up all by itself with neither conscious nor unconscious volition.
A walk in autumn woods. Webs keep sticking to my face and hair.
I don’t do anything.
I cannot brush away love.
Love invisible clings, melds, envelops.
I do nothing.
So, unopposed, love loves to surprise and caress
The View at 72+ 