Ghastly admission

Intuition colours

I am tempted to step forward with a ghastly admission. All my life I have addressed my Intuition for guidance, understanding and comfort. The conversation is intense, fairly constant and rather lonesome. The vocabulary and range of expression increase slowly with advancing years.

When I overhear an argument where the discussion concerns the validity of abstract and unproven concepts at the heart of the “eternal” questions about Life, the Universe and Everything, and where the protagonists appear to be acquisitive in their quest for knowledge, my intuition shouts and shakes me to identify the simplest common factor, or the least complex set of sentences with the fewest sub-clauses or dependent clauses.

My Intuition seeks out the closest thing to a smell of the axiomatic, the first most viscerally appealing positive statement, and my Intuition homes in on the mystical, the emotive, and the form of expression most swiftly sensitising and arousing the poetic in me.

For “in me”, read “in my Heart”. For “Heart” read “the Peace and Love from which we all come and are constituted and to which we all return”.

All we have is the utmost we can offer using the entire range of our intellectual abilities allied to those of the past giants on whose broad shoulders we are conscious of standing and reaching up from.

We ultimately arrive at a position from which we can and really ought to say, “The only wisdom we can hope to acquire is the wisdom of Humility. Humility is endless.” (ts eliot)

I seek my truth in deliberate isolation from the forces of competing theories. I recognise that this can be legitimately regarded as wilful intellectual laziness. It is a form of puerile anti authoritarian rebellion. It is ghastly to admit. Yet my thirst for discovering who and what I am has for all these years been slaked by my strong allegiance to that intangible unidentifiable “Intuition”.

There never will be for us in these our human frames of reference a completion, a knowledge whose purity contains no further questions. I have found an entirely satisfactory conclusion. By this I mean it is one which satisfies my deepest need to identify with a balance between my Awareness as a sentient being and Sufficiency of purpose in mind and body.

I do not regard it as a conclusion at all, but as a set of tools by which to measure my days, travel time, and reflect on my life among other lives in an inevitable plurality of beings, all of whom deserve respect for being each their own ambassador of life’s abundance

~ Love is present E v e r yN o w

♡ Meditation on the heart ♡

♡ Meditation on the heart ♡

The physical universe has its own natural dignity in the general order of existence. That dignity deserves its own respect.

Reality is apparent through the detection of its magnificent spectrum of wavelengths.

Where reality ends and something else begins, possibly connected with quantum reality, or to do with the threshold of an important and blindingly beautiful stasis, is also a boundary which we are privileged to inhabit.

Nothing is black and white. Light is infinitely graduated.

So too Love.

Everything is just how it is. I come back again and again to realising that the Way of Being of whatever we attend to is entire and sufficient to itself. It is enough.

Everything is always perpetually and without exception enough.

This appreciation of Sufficiency is an expression of the way the universe loves its own witnessers. This is a love that holds and contains those gigantic primal energies science has been showing to us.

This is also the love which living organisms draw upon to go freely about their business of survival and reproduction.

The universe pours its love into all living entities, animate, inanimate, with sentience or not. It is a love which is an unending flow mirrored between the witnessers and the witnessed in equal and opposite union.

I think of this pervasive love as being like cycles of cause and effect on all possible dimensional scales and at every energy level.

There is a quality to this flow of love which is both innate and radiantly distributive, or outgoing. If this love can sense itself, it is the embodiment of a tranquility with no end.

Here is my picture of this tranquility. From those distant times in every galaxy when rocky objects began to orbit parent stars, their solid surfaces remain in a millennial continuum.

Throughout the universe there are rocky surfaces, unknown and unknowable, unconsidered and untouched by human artifact.

These rocks have no eyes to see, but their nobility is not blind.

This nobility has always existed as a starkly naked imperturbable virginity. It sings an unsung song of purest silence. As yet, not one tear has fallen on these hard places. This is the silence of an eternal home, whose roof and walls are set all about with stars that burn and shine.

The potent awareness of intense love is self sustaining. It enters my heart like perpetual motion, eternally safe! Intense love quenches every last residue of fear.

I sometimes like to call it EveryNow.

There is a final resting place for the restless mind. That place is a place of no-location. It is where safety is unconstrained by and unconcerned by time. It is a flowing source of giving. It is a not-there which is available instantly, whenever we as individuals need it.

Though we clearly feel it as being unboundaried, without limit, when our awareness is directed towards it, its quality of unconditional giving is always specific to our own heart at any given moment. Here we glimpse the uninterrupted, incorruptible unity in which everything, time, matter and energy, has its belonging.

Love is the answer

To which

      No question exists

The Biodanza effect. Do I dare to hope?

The Biodanza effect. Do I dare to hope?
For those who regularly practice Biodanza – and I am one of some few hundred thousand every week in dozens of different countries – there is a sense of coming home attaching to the word Mindfulness.
From way back, when I began to reflect on the big questions, up to today, I will almost daily catapult my mind into the Now by reference to the notion of my own death. It is a cleansing act which sharpens my gratitude and my wonder for being me being alive in this moment – right here now.
It’s with my regular practice of Biodanza that I am becoming accustomed to the practice – not only the idea – of living my daily life more and more ‘in the Moment’.
That’s to say I am going about the business of my days without tripping up over selfconscious self-referential thoughts. Less and less do I feel the need to question my motives, still less do I bother to direct my thoughts in at myself, where there’s a treadmill for thoughts with nothing better to do than trudge around and around.
What takes my mind away from mental closed circuits today is my gratitude for the pleasures of inclusive warm comradeship I feel from my fellow Biodancers.
Yes, I might still be lonely in my days and nights, but my friends in the Dance of Life have reflected my natural inner joy back to me from their integrity and respect and trust.
In Biodanza, something as simple as feeling joyful can be revealed as depending on nobody around me. I can see that the joy in the eyes of a partner in the dance spells out happiness all by itself. His or her joy doesn’t depend on me. It arises between us in the shared act of dance. We recognise it is our naked flame of humanity which each has made possible to reveal to the other in the unguarded intimacy of our moments of communion.
Biodanza to me is a spritual reawakening and a growth in potential of the whole person through wordless self expressive freestyle movement, mediated through music, under expert guidance and in the companionship of others whose integrity and trust is strong, explicit and bonding.
I have not dared to hope that Biodanza will always continue to reveal more subtleties of innerscape, more outward expanses of conscious joy, more awareness of the same upward spiralling awakening in those all around me.
I had not dared to hope until I asked Natasha, who has some eight years’ Biodanza. She says it’s perfectly clear that the beneficial effect goes on getting higher, deeper, broader both on the inside and out, and it will never end.
I’m reminded of the illusion of those lonely parallel tracks. In the experience of Busy-busy living, when I think I am alone on the path, I blink, look around and see others on parallel paths. As we face the horizon, all our different divergent paths converge, merge and blaze together in a revitalising sunrise. Or sunset.
Glory glory!

Meditation ~ on the surface of Mars

Land where no tear has fallen

The rocks have no eyes to see, but their nobility is not blind.The rock surfaces of our solar system’s bodies are newly being seen.

After at least four thousand million Earth years, our eyes are given photographs of landscapes on comets, asteroids, moons and planets.

For sure, a rock is a rock, a stone is a stone. Unconsidered and unregarded, the rocks rockiness and solidity rest in a millennial continuum.

The rocks share our Sol, our Star. The rocks had nothing to do with humans’ fleeting, squishy goings-on.

These rocks have no eyes to see, but their nobility is not blind.

The starkly naked surfaces’ untouched virginity sing an unsung song of purest silence. Silence is their eternal home. Home whose roof and walls are set all about with stars.

The polarities of light and shadow deceptively belie the rocks’ motionlessness on the surface by reference to the gentle unvarying hug of gravity.

The rocks do not have eyes to see, but their nobility is not blind.

Fear for the blindness of the robotic vehicle, for it lacks nothing except a program to show respect for millennial nobility.

Despair at the next footstep, drill hole, test blast, mineshaft.

They do not have eyes to see, these rocks, but their nobility is not blind.

For these rocks
over and over again
are blessed by Angels.

For these rock landscapes
are the privileged domain of Angels.

Here are much travelled landscapes
which carry no footprint.

Land where Angel tears have not yet fallen.

Barren, breathless, beautiful bodies
whose astral surfaces are devoid of the stain of blood.

Humans have not, nor do Angels need to have the keys to these Edens.

So stand, give reverence to our Earth rocks! Give praise for their lyric skills of silent communion!

Rejoice in the reflections I see in the primordial rocks of Gaia!

They knew it full well, the broad-shouldered builders of henges of monolithic stone.

They, the magicians of prehistory, knew that simply by our being near enough to see the rocks with every sense at peak perception, we are all magnified and mirrored in the community of stars.