Knowing without being told

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I experienced the joyful vibe in Colourfest 2017, and my other few participations very intensely. But I didn’t try to hold on to them.

I can now “do” non-attachment. I would spend decades yearning after the event, preserving memories, keeping keepsakes.

Today I am the conduit. I can deeply swim in and submerge into these fine, fiery, feathery, frolicsome experiences. But I don’t want them to last so much that all I become is a sad curator of memories. That has gone. I’m over all that. It’s a sort of inside of head declutter.

It’s good. It feels “grown up”.

I had a perfectly surprisingly amazing experience on Sunday morning, June 4, 2017.

Nashir Karmali gave a 2 hour lecture on Ayurveda healing practices. Much of it was in the form of delightful anecdotes from his own long years in his own Wimborne practice.

He impressed us all. He comes over as he is, a deeply human and compassionate person, wise, learned, and with a gentle humour.

There must have been at least forty in the elegantly preserved Gaunts House Library. All remained quiet and respectfully attentive in the room throughout.

I knew Nashir’s talk would “use up” all the calm sunny weather on that day. I knew the weather would deteriorate from midday on.

But I dismissed as selfish idle ego chit-chat the idea of “bunking” it! And Nashir himself had, after all, personally invited me.

So I stayed to the end.

At the end, we were asked to partner off into healing/listening pairs. We were told, “Sit face to face, eye in eye, holding hands, look deep into the honourable soul we see in the eyes before us. For the first part, one touches the wrists of the other at the pulse.”

I remained sat down while the others got up, walked and mixed to find their partners.

I know from Biodanza I am way down the list of pairing choices owing to my minority age group, as I was here.

Only one unpaired person remained.

Before me is a woman with a forceful confident manner. She is a young woman. Certainly of good family. Someone well-educated and sure of her place in her society.

Her face is pleasingly round and open. Her symmetrical features lend her a certain classical nobility older than her years.

All went quiet. I am touching her pulse on both her wrists. I cannot detect much if any beat. But it is contact. We both ignore what Nashir was saying about what to do and say, because we have become absorbed in each others gaze.

I find she had a tranquillity bordering on nobility.I say quietly,

“You are far more beautiful than even you will admit.”

She smiles. It is a compliment.

Then I begin to see and to feel inside of me something completely contrary to and at odds with the composed expression on her nice symmetrical face.

Here’s the thing. I became more and more restless. My stomach twisted. I see her calm face cloud slightly with a sadness. But what I feel is her fear!

I say,

“You are not as composed as you are projecting. You have had a shock, you have had a frightening experience. It is recent. You came to this festival in spite of carrying this with you.”

Her eyes filled, although the facade I had looked through was still strong and was not about to fail her.

I asked if she would share.

She said I was right. She said the day before the festival, her boyfriend, who lives across the road, had dumped her.

I asked her how she had felt this in her heart. She was torn up inside, she said.

Neither of us expressed an objective opinion about how or why I had “seen” this from only her eyes. Since then (only 36 hours ago) I have not foolishly distracted myself by marvelling at the phenomenon of this vision.

I accept it and am surprised is all. I find it suggests that I may have the ability to help others more than I had realised.

In the last moments together, I said,

“The pain and turmoil inside you does not ‘belong’ to you. You don’t own it, and it doesn’t own you. It is a hard to live with emotion, which will pass, like all emotions.

We are not mechanisms. We have no off-switches.

What is permanently yours is the light of love in your own heart from which you came, to which you will return.

That is your strength and that is what will support and sustain you through this time. Keep your heart in view, do not try to examine your heart’s pain.

Your closeness to your living heart will be what helps shorten this period of pain.”

It was her turn. She looked at me and she said I was very very calm. Hearing, or rather seeing her see this, I suddenly felt like collapsing.

I had to close my eyes, look down, bite my lip to avoid breaking down. I composed myself. I said,

“Under this I am in turmoil.” Quickly I added,

“But this is only what is on me now. I am at peace in my heart.”

She asked to hug. We hugged. Moments later we were both gone.

What do you think, dear Friend?

🟢beauty detonating🟣

🟢beauty detonating🟣

A blade of grass has no looking-glass. It is not green by reason of it absorbing all colours but green.

A grassblade is an abstraction of beauty in a pure material form. It is so and not further.

Night or day, in every grass-blade there is a blinding-bright beauty detonating in total silent anonymity.

Only allow that beauty to enter, to penetrate your heart, and, exactly because you are more actively constructed and construed than a blade of grass, you are able to see, to experience with your conscious awareness the glorious Sufficiency of You in all your innate beauty and latent power.

When that occurs, inspiration, the lack of it, pain, or the lack of it, in fact all states or stages of being in life click into their own place.

That place is where time began and ends. Where love and peace pertain. Like the Tardis, it is a LOT bigger on the inside than on the outside!
. . .
And the maelstrom of moments in which our beauty dances, exists as EveryNow.

“Love is the thread which weaves the empty sky with birdsong

~ Love is present EveryNow”

CRESCENDOS of expressionlessness

CRESCENDOS of expressionlessness
EveryNow is in the presence of the original peace of the universe
EveryNow always comes garlanded by love
Peace is omnipresent in you and in me
Peace is in the arrival of our knowing in truthfulness
We are made from peace
Peace is in every thing we care nothing about
Peace has no need of a name
Peace does not need to be touched to exist
The expression of peace is in crescendos of expressionlessness

Love is the answer to which
No question exists
~ Love is present
E v e r yN o w

The brilliance of existing

I write of the brilliance of existing.

When I write, I am representing in one way or another a self-similar fragment of the brilliance of the peace and love we all come from and to which we all return.

The brilliance reveals itself here, under the next leaf, there beneath the water’s ripple. It is behind old grief, and it is always always always after my next blink. It is EveryNow!

“Peter,” you say,

“You are defo in the zone of Zen.”

Yes, maybe so.

You are the one who says so about me. It is not just the me you see. It is you who says you see.

Whatever the zone is, even if the zone is ignored, denied, unsuspected or invisible under examination, it is you, it is I, it is ineradicably eternally in you and in I.

Because it shines in all sentient beings, and because all sentient beings take shape and form from all things, the zone of Zen you say you see is as much in and of you as it is of me and of EveryThing.

We all return to the brilliance of the peace we come from and the heart of love which animates and sustains us.

The brilliance is here for me to see in every blink and breath. It behoves me to remind you of it in the words I say and in the glance I cast.

If love is present EveryNow, due attention ought to be drawn to its brilliance – a splendour which touches us every one deeply, if we know it, or if we know it not!

~ Love’s presence EveryNow

Where do my thoughts fly to

What is the salty seawater that floats my heart high, when I’m in love?

What is it with my loudly different heartbeat, when I’m in love?

Where do my thoughts fly to, when there is no longer any room for them, because I’m in love?
What plays that harmonious chord consistently constantly in my belly, never letting me forget I’m in love?
Lovers in love hold no monopoly, conceal no closed secrets.
The love that life sparked into flame at the conception of you and me is forever in perfect readiness to be revealed, unconcealed, naked and glorious.
This life giving love is no ephemeral birthing event. It flamed but never dimmed.
These fiery penetrating flames, so characteristic of epiphany, do not self restrict to roads to Damascus.
Slow down. Stop. I turn my gaze.
It hovers one thought away, easily within hands reach.
Stare directly at naked, glorious, primal, primogenitura love.
I consider, reflect, focus and meditate on love. Strain night and day to hear the clarion of love’s battalions in mountains, streams, the ground at my feet.
Meet the love with a cocktail of witness, acceptance, humility and childlike joy.
See love’s guileless open look stand before me in the eyes of another
~ Love is present E v e r yN o w

🌱 See it sing it dance it ♥️

🌱 See it, sing it, dance it with courage ♥️
The peace I have arrived at, the peace that has arrived in me, that has ‘found’ me will not leave me for reasons of illness or misery.
Our origin is love. Our hearts are constituted out of pure love.
I came to this real understanding age 67, and I recognise this is peace that bypasses understanding.
Before I had awareness, love gave my conscious being form, much as a flame gives a candle purpose. I am now the guardian of my flame which I nourish and care for by the simple act of breathing!
Yes, all the time it feels fragile, the same way the feeling of ‘being in love’ is more delicate than any butterfly.
My experience of aliveness, though blissful, is constantly in a state of flux, connected to everything by vast rhythms and tides to places so far out of sight as to be unimaginable.
So when I try to define my life’s force in words, or dance, or music, it does not resist me, neither can it escape me, because it is me.
Oh! And it can sometimes turn towards me and light me with a smile of a beautiful person whose gaze I meet, and I am melted clean.
It may feel fragile, but fragile it is not! In everyday reality this peace I know in my heart and mind is as strong and as permanently present as gravity.
The peace is alive inside.
It is inextinguishable, simply because love is inextinguishable, and we are love.
Every
single one of us
is Love

always

~ Love is present EveryNow

What is, is not the unitary and oblivious carelessness of what is, but the glow

What is, is not the unitary and oblivious carelessness of what is, but the glowing strength of the is-ness animating it.
This insight is what moves from inside of me to share. It is the inside of me. I am inside all humanity because is-ness comes dancing and skipping before any question like, “Is it?”
It is the same for the inside of every one of us, we knowing it, or it unknown to us.
Only make visible to others what brightness makes visible!
Here are the wonders of the mirror!
Delight is up side down side inside and out.
All the world loves a lover.
Therefore be love!
Be love! Float and glow with tides of the foamy briney stuff of which your life and my life is made and which makes all life loving and giving and alive

Toddler in the jungle

I grew up toddling through my very own jungle all of my own discovery.
I was discovering wild – literally ‘wild’ – vegetation and flora. It was chock full of strange animals. The feelings and the inner conversations I shared with this natural jungle form an important part of my earliest memories of my own communion with this planet I had been born onto.
This was the world of hay meadows, pastures filled with flowers as vulnerable, as delicate and as small in scale as I myself.
This was a world of deep peaceful mid-England summer countryside over which blue skies glowed. A world in whose numberless green corners and turns I and only I had the regal pleasure of placing my feet, and I placed my sandalled feet wheresoever I chose.
I wondered at the brilliance of the coloured insects, their astonishing sudden turns of speed. Crickets and grasshoppers of many species would observe my observation with their honeycomb eyes, and vanish in a leap.
I fell in love with the daytime moths and the way they spread their wings and revealed hidden bright coloured patternings. I chased big butterflies to see them better when they landed, even though I knew most outperformed my own best turns of speed.
Lacewings, caterpillers, daddy-longlegs, millipedes, woodlice families, red soldier beetles on cow parsley, worms, silverfish, spiders fat, and spiders pinhead red, ants and of course fearsome horseflies feasting on cowpats.
These were my study, my entertainment and the close friends I loved to spend time with.
The very few aeroplanes that passed unhuriedly overhead themselves sounded like lazy booming stag beetles, because they were all four-engine propeller driven.
The flowering mixed grasses were my fascination. Here were tall treelike beings as far my eyes could see, and I was a giant striding among them with my bare legs.
Today I still thrill to the core of my boybeing at the slightest glimpse of the graceful complex completeness of grasses displaying their waving flower panickles to the pollen-dispersing winds.
Ah, my heart breaks for those bygone days when I had the certainty of ecstatic release as I walked into the luscious rich chewy smelliness of those waiting pastures of green.
The spaces in these warm unintimidating open fields were filled with conversation. Buzzes, barks, clicks, rustles, and the cawing of rooks so high up in the majestic elm tree canopy towering by the gated entrance to the pasture.
To this chatter I added my own. All these countless beings kept coming and going in front of my eyes. I was the only human being in sight.
I think I was asking everyone what they were doing, where they were going. Above all, my mind was wanting them to explain to me, to inform me, to give up the secrets to me of who they were, of what it was like to inhabit their tiny bodies so different to mine.
I have never ceased to ask these sacred private questions of these public tiny animals.
Intensive use of pesticides have all but completely done away with the clouds of insects that the spreading picnic cloth would send scattering up and away.
I have never ceased to ask these sacred questions.
The hedgerows, so wondrously populated by the high-rise dwellers of the field edge, have become fence posts connected by galvanised barbed wire
Wheat and barley stretches out of sight and their blue indigo cornflowers and the flutter-poppies in their red frocks have been weedkiller-ed, banned, abolished, banished.
And still I do not cease to question them.
I held those exquisite magic conversations. I spoke directly to the green beings. I chatted with the six and with the eight-legged kind. I fancied I could interpret their thoughts from the attitude of their antennae. I listened and learned from the crowing of the rooks.
They answered to my innocence. They imparted their unconscious wisdoms. Every word we exchanged together found a new place of holiness in my heart.
Though I know the answers now, yet I never cease to put the question.
There is no question.
Answer is before.
There is only the answer.
See the sense of season.
Sleep naked of reason.
~ Love is present EveryNow