Black is not darkness, but shadows of the light — it has never been subject to anything but itself. Its position is determined by its perception. It contains the full spectrum of life. In possessing self it posses its destiny, not by force but placid solitude. It’s origin is itself. power resides where it decides — and still, now is all. The work that needs doing to bring change is always carried out beneath. There is no external power greater than stillness. To change self is to change your world. History is littered with such. Energy confined is a part of mind, the cell is not a jail but where creation is defined. The outer world is a reflection from within. External stride is a fading tide. For even fame, belongs not to celebrity but the crowd. Like fickle fortune and shiny things, all must yield to the dark. You can never possess anything but self – seize that and all else will bowl to it.
The wisdom we gain as life unwinds are the mistakes reclaimed by lessons through time. Nearly sixty five years have passed and I am still intrigued — curious about the nature of things and how they come to be.
What began as extraneous youthful exploration has matured into the internal inquisition of an elder, yet, it is still a life full of wonder. The more I examine my existence, the more excited I feel about the present possibilities, and less afraid to push the boundaries that appear to bind who I am. Many of the beliefs I once held about what is, no longer seem relevant and the desire to live more efficiently has demanded greater simplicity as life ripens. For me, there has never really been any separation between the physical and spiritual. Religion, diet, exercise or training of some sort, have always functioned towards a single purpose — to improve self. Though my ideology and practices have constantly changed, evolved or maybe just revolved, I still find enormous joy, even moments of paradise in the ritual of it all. I am grateful!
All forms of life seek homeostasis. To hold a state of balance in the mist of dissent, is bliss. Beyond the books, courses, teachings and surface chatter lays the soul — whatever that may be. Self study remains my highest form of education and truth. Within self lays the answer to the eternal question. It is the most worthy of all subjects to be studied. Like most, social conceptions have left there mark upon my thoughts but for as long as I can remember, it seems, my world has inevitably unfolded from within.
I am becoming more acquainted with a deep sense of gratitude that once evaded my grasp. The more frequently I’m able to gain access to it, the longer I am able to reside within its bosom and the more complete I feel. In my own presence there is no shortage, all absence is returned to the present. To know that nothing I once sought exists apart from me, as an independent or self actualized entity. I cannot be anything more than what already is. What I seek, I am already in possession of.
The texture of silence in the morning, to find joy in a whiff of incense, the patterns of smoke afloat the air, to witness the dance of motes within a stream of sun light beamed through the window in a quite room, to feel the grainy waves of oak innately etched into the hard wood floor beneath my feet and to know that no destiny is predetermined but personally designed; not shaped by social construct but wielded in the workshop of my mind, for this, I am raptured — gratitude undefined.
I am thankful for so many things but more than anything, the feeling that comes with understanding, I am already in possession of everything.
mid september, sky diving leaves lay faded and scattered upon battered fields of green abandoned bony branches once arrayed as noticeable in the nude as they are fully dressed
twirl and spin, softly descend to death — and that is life.
in a room from the rear i look upon myself with rapture and i can see the ocean all day smokey waves, and branches that sway.
how does the jay capture the fly in his zig-zag pattern and butter in his eye.
in such times, thought is distraction, conversation empty, the span of a moment transcends time, venues vanish, the breeze of flow, satin winds blow, strumming the trees to the sound of rest as they toss, releasing their grasp of leaves and i hear a whisper, softly beneath it all — hallelujah, Hallelujah!
nature7blog 