This is only something I thought, in a different form, earlier today @ stoppage of time for meditation.  I forgot it and carried it with me and wrote something else in another form, longhand, clipping, halting, flowing over other thoughts that came up to impede the stream.  This is the result of affected and much altered recollection:

Each now moment of now is the future I live in . . .

 . . . if I can

When I can.  I can now!

I am there!

There is eternal peaceful non-violence – no thought of making anything or anyone ‘pay’ for anything in any way.

And in that future, now, is reality for everyone.  I live in love!

And I’m telling you it’s the future, the destiny of us all

I’m asking you to draw on it.  It is there.  It is here.  It is now!  You don’t have to look very far, it is within.

You don’t have to ask very hard. It is given. It is a free gift from the source!

While we can’t live there – and I don’t dwell – we, nonetheless can be aware, we can awaken; even if to mere moments, glimpses that flash and vanish away uncaught unseen so subtly felt or sensed in intuition within

It doesn’t matter. It exists to us all.  We can draw on it.  It is easy.  It is peace.  We don’t have to live this way, this physical way, this way of fear, this tallying up of score, often falling short, needing to protect and preserve, fearing final judgment – or fearing finality itself.

No!  We must only serve ~ eternity ~ the future now for all in peace and serene calm

And maybe I seem to be there more.  Maybe I live there longer in perception.  Maybe you want to give me a physical lifetime’s worth of painful reminders, something for me to fear, some way to make me pay.

But, long or short, anything you insist upon in a life doesn’t register on the measure of eternity.

So, the lifetime’s worth of pain or the termination in finality that you might wish to exact with revenge on my ‘deluded’ living in the future/now will be immaterial.  Everything material is thus immaterial.  Hence it is not real.  The physical world and any one person’s lifetime within it is a non-identifiable blip within the vast unlimited scope of eternity.  You have every right to dispute this but your dispute, like your ‘whole’ life, will not be findable on the only measure of reality, eternity.  The pain you make me feel likewise is less than a blip a flash – unseen, not even truly seen, as nothing is.  Nothing is real!

Draw on this!  Awaken to this!

It is within.  It is in us all.  It is there for you.  The future/now!  The Realm of Wisdom!

You may say you can’t see it.  You may refuse to acknowledge it.  But it is there.  It is within.  Eternity!  Now!  Nothing to kill or die for!  And no possessions (or religion) too!

You may say I’m crazy.  I may be a lucky one, having spent much youth in another dimension, oft daydreaming my life away, as if I believed in them.  I don’t know.  It doesn’t register now.

You don’t have to be right.  I’m not wrong.  Now is beyond.  Now is within.  Draw on it.  Awaken.  If for a moment, then get a piece of what is real.  Eternity.  Eternal now.  The Realm of Wisdom which is upon us being within us.  Violence is not a thing nor can register on a scale.  Revenge is the real delusion.  Pain is not real.  Nor is fear.

Nothing is real.

And that’s eternity!

I don’t know if anyone reads me

I know that no one heeds me

And that the changing of a mind is glacial

I am patient and persistent

Transcended over the second physical

Fear to me is a non-factor

This is not a game

In the falsity of real

Distinction is everything

In a town that takes tracks for granted

People love borders

Property obsession is an antidote to fear

That doesn’t work and disappoints

And feeds a vicious circle

When people are property fear is exponential

In legacy of have-been four hundred years can live sixteen hundred years

Where fear is fed oxygen

Hell is on earth and girds the atmosphere of earth

Where dwell unseen beings

And seemingly inescapable dimensions of karma

This is not a game

Fear seems the rule

Until transcended

Caine:
Is it good to seek the past, Master Po? Does it not rob the present?
Master Po:
If a man dwells on the past, then he robs the present. But if a man ignores the past, he may rob the future. The seeds of our destiny are nurtured by the roots of our past.

Kung Fu Season 1 Episode 5 “The Tide”

Some seem to cling to past lives all too graspingly.
Some simply remember drives to be what they are not here, but indeed what they were, at some unknown point, in some unknowable way, in some intuitive sense, dabbling in something that is not of this life
Uncertain and unclear, with little or no confidence.

Like a gay man will endeavor to experiment in all serious intent and sense of purpose a heterosexual marriage out of this vague drive of unremembered remembrance of destiny or competence over and above cumulative piled-up stored-up social pressure’s expectations, said and unsaid, seen and unseen, felt keenly, over the years, in insignificant or as once-in-a-while’s significance and palpable increments of piling up.

To arrive, miserably, at the crossroads of this life’s destiny’s call and to arrive, reluctantly, at a reckoning with what is in terms of what was under all terms and conditions of what is to be. A moment of truce.

Play it well or play it badly, we are all moving on.

Revenge is the one thing most clearly absent from the Kingdom of Heaven.  Why then is it central and integral to life on earth?  Consider it.  Draw on literature.  Draw on Biblical lore.  Draw on what you know about sex, even in the Biblical sense.  Revenge is central.  It, not money, is the root of all violence.  (Violence serving as the substitute for evil in this ‘essay’).   Money is only an amplifier.  A [de]value added amplifier if you will, if you like post-modern marketing parlance and the general deconstruction of things.

Yes, revenge is integral to the great dysfunctional force and tendency of what we laughingly call functioning society.  Sick-in-the-head individuals, i.e. humans, project it onto all they survey (i.e. all they look upon, i.e. all they purportedly “see”).

It works like rain clouds:  individual drops attract and seed others.  Something turns.  Critical mass is reached.  Deluge and downpour ensue.  Something is alive and dead at the same time.  Call it quantum.  Call it Ishmail.  It is the lubricant, the precious oil, the value-enhancing natural resource, of the ways of man.

Consider it truly.  It creates enemies.  It feeds on fear.  It demands action.  It perpetuates violence as return for violence, eye-tooth for eye-tooth, red in tooth and nail.  Even where it largely does not exist, — (I’m thinking African-American society post-slavery, post-Jim Crow, post-civil rights let down and sell out after sell out). — Like I said, think again. Even where it largely doesn’t exist and where progression has gone on mostly peacefully, still the projection of a dangerous and revenge-minded “other” clearly exists and lives a thriving life as a terror and as a tangible fear that calls action or pre-emptive action or lack of empathy, with or without action.

Yes, revenge works like gathering rain clouds to violence.  And we live in perpetual monsoon season.  It doesn’t help, either, that in this so-called and ignorantly-considered “advanced” 21^st Century society, the revenge rain-cloud process is seeded by airplanes of the imagination spraying conspiratorial chemtrails of Q-Anon & Friends, media & anti-media alike.

Yes, I say.  Revenge seeds a critical mass of group-think to violence.  Over and over and over again.  It is the way of the world.

If I could change the world to make it more akin and in resemblance to the Kingdom of Heaven, I wouldn’t introduce something abstract and confusing as “love” (which gets complicated with clean or dirty-minded “sex” and with innocent or “guilty” curious wondering about how the angels do it and other things like (and unlike) that).  No, I wouldn’t improve the world that way.  I wouldn’t even try to achieve law and order (mostly because law and order are perverted and critically co-opted into an integral role, a catalyst within that vicious circle of revenge/violence).

If I could change the world to make it more akin and in resemblance to the Kingdom of Heaven, I also wouldn’t worry about changing over the representative guard of revenge-minded Anerican Congressmen and Senators.  For they are true representatives of the American ppl. [sic].  (You’d only replace one crew with a likewise and like-minded dysfunctional crew of other “representatives”, over and over again, ad nauseam).  I wouldn’t take other systems of governance and turn them into “capitalism” or republican representation either.  It is not in the governance that the problem exists.  It is in the revenge.

If I could change the world to make it more akin and in resemblance to the Kingdom of Heaven I would simply make revenge go away.

I realize that this would undermine western civilization and I realize that it is anti-American and anti-“Christian” as well, but so be it.

That’s how I would change the world.  But the world indeed won’t have it.

So, I’ll just work on my serenity instead.

The way you think it all most certainly is

The way that everything you know and feel tells you it ought to be

The way you are so proud to say that you have been taught

is nothing
And
Never reliable

You are wrong to act as if it were

It is truly the vast multitudes of way[s] of IS that IS that are the way

*The moral of this jumble of contradiction which you might or may call my story:  Never exclude anyone

Body gasp bone grasp
on sighting a snake!

Recoil like this is the memories
Though some are more elaborate
Played out like a fantasy scenario
Meant to tease out terror
Reaction

These such are my remembrances
Of means of death in lives past

I remember them in vivid reaction
Because they are my very last memories
Of times of lives of yore
Vivid thus
Long held, unknown, in my memory store
Utterly obscure from the vague before

I was born and raised in a small community. This community took a lot of pride in its smallness.  Pride and perpetuation were expected from all, however unspoken this expectation lived inert and unquestioned.  From all, for all, by all, above all.  Else.  (Or else).

It was strange too, the way the smallness kept to the straight and narrow.  It is too soon in the discussion to introduce this but I’ve seen (observed) smallness and narrowness magnified and concentrated by the odd circumstance and curious peculiar institution of assumed — (known) — invisible halving of this community.  By this I mean that virtually if not literally half the community were understood (never formally, of course) to be non-existent.  [I’m referring to racism, of course].  There were a physical pair of parallel train tracks with a buffer-zone between that demarked the seen from the unseen.  This served as an effective border.  There were exceptions, of course.  The border was not hard and fixed.  Invisibleness not acknowledged.  Some border incursion in the form of housing spilled over at the end of town near the airport.  People did often complain which must have implied a certain degree of visibility and gnosis of awareness.  No one was ever bothered to reconcile any differences.  What is inferior, I conclude or presume to conclude, is better left as unseen and as unacknowledged as possible.   That, I’m sure, is a key way (and means) of the small way.

An impact, of course, of the invisibility and the unsaid, unacknowledged confederacy of the not knowing is the growth space this accommodates and affords to fear:  fear of the unknown, specifically.

Matter of fact, it seems clear to me that fear avoidance of the unknown and a particular perpetuated smallness have a symbiotic relationship, breathing and thriving in the oxygen of conformity.

In any case, I was born and raised in a small [racist] community.  Smallness by way of conformity was expected at all levels.  It needn’t be spoken.  It was a matter of pride. [And if you spoke to any denizens of that community, my accusation of racism is the most untrue and radical thing I could say: they would swear to God in Heaven that they are not racist at all. It is “them” who are always *playing the race card*].

I was never asked to conform.  I was never told to ‘fall into line’ (well not too many times and not too directly and not in so many words).  I was made to feel secure, protected, contained, and somehow quite complete in the smallness.

The thing is that the very smallness was always taken for universality.  And it was more than this!  Much more than just this!  Smallness was always understood by all to be taken as “normal”.

I don’t know how this was done or accomplished, but abnormality was something understood wordlessly to be quite completely unacceptable.  I don’t know how it was accomplished or pulled off but somehow I was grown up to believe without question that smallness was completeness and that being or becoming abnormal was something to fear as badly and as deeply as the fear of the unknown or of the invisibility of inferiority itself.

And thus, while I never for a moment felt I belonged in such confined smallness, I was not impelled to rebel:  I acted small, I accepted normality, I grew to fit in, I let myself feel smart, knowing better, but I obsessed with what people were thinking and I danced within the confines of expectations in big ways and small.  It all remained so unsaid.

I gradually confirmed a spiritual non-smallness from within and from the world about, from books and from the power of music, from observations and from experiences, from the friends I made, strange non-conformist friends who came to me attracted strong like magnet-pulled shavings and shrapnel to accumulate into gradually something big.

Much of the time, all the while, during this and every other life process, I came to be aware of the not belonging feeling.  It has always lived there in my smallness.  For the longest time I wanted to work on that.  I wanted balance and reconciliation.  I began to see that the smallness is not universal and it is certainly not normal.  I attributed education and worldly perspective as agents of change, universal goodies that might bring everyone out of such a dream.  But no.  I see the smallness live on dogged and determined in others who have been exposed to much more of the world than me, to those who do read, to those with sophistications and assurances and assumptions that a little working class hero like me were never privy to.  Despite this, though, I see them all value and treasure the smallness, even more set in the belief that smallness is universal, moreover, normal too.

Yet I am totally different now.  I am so beyond small!

So, beyond education (three or four separate iterations), and above and beyond branching out, and beyond  having developed a world perspective, and above and beyond my having lived in another (somewhat exotic) place as a minority for a long while, beyond even my balancing peace experience of martial arts training,  I’ve found myself having found bigger things, having lived bigger.  Yet I find there is no talisman of knowledge nor experience that will have such an effect.  I used to believe firmly and fundamentally that there was, that this was it.

I find that I was wrong.  I’ve seen many a manifest example of others who should know better who should have experienced better yet who are more steadfastly stubborn about smallness than ever before.  They are Trumpist intolerant ‘patriots’ now.  They love to blame most everything on the invisible for making themselves increasingly seen and heard.

So it is not education, refinement, development of perspective.  It is a thing of spirit. 

My place of upbringing is frighteningly religious — [they would say it’s the utmost frightening not to be] — but in a small and narrow way even on either side of the supposedly incompatible binomial choice offerings of the one true narrow faith practice:  one popish the other strictly anti-popish, and all that implies.  Yet that small religious “way” (or binomial ‘ways’) is very devoid of spiritual.  That I always knew instinctively.

So, it’s awakening to the spiritual, it seems, that can break the grip of the smallness upbringing.  This is not something that just came to me of a sudden, though it did somehow when I went to the vast within, when I asked, when the Nām awareness awakened! (Through the discipline of meditation practice).  That is all true, but it has been there eternally.  I am poked, staked to the earth like us all in a physical human form, and that little man played the small game so well.  Yet, eternally I was always out there floating somewhere amorphously all the while, knowing, knowing, knowing.  I have ever been transcending the smallness, feeling appropriately misfit, feeling imbalanced and out of place in the little man role.  It’s all so petty now.  But being awakened to energy and vast, vast, incomprehensible bigness of it all, is all and everything.  We can all be truly not small no matter what we have been told. 

Furthermore, we can function well in this physical world, unafraid of being with bigger smallness busting perspective, abnormal as hell, not going along.  There is nothing to fear on earth.  There is no half to make invisible.  There is absolutely no one inferior.  (There is no white supremacy).  But all this doesn’t matter for much anyway because there is a spiritual within that is now that is not applicable to this physicality these limitations this “breaking away” from the smallness.  The smallness is indeed smaller than you think.  But it is not universal.  It is not normal.  At all.  There is no unknown to fear.

I’m not expecting any of this to make any sense.  I’m not advocating a way. I’m certainly not soliciting in a proselytizing way.  I’m not addressing a right or wrong issue.  I know that there is a human smallness living on in me that is quite capable of seeing “them” (the small advocating and believing) as wrong. My human form is quite capable of being petty and small in trying to “call [the small] out”.  I no longer say or mean to imply anything like that now.  I don’t even rule out devotion to established religion.  You can know completely that it helps.  Knock yourself out.  I was just talking, just saying.  I don’t even know where to end so I’ll end abruptly.

If you want to entertain your mind every once and a while with romance, I think you can! You should be free to entertain your mind so, I say. I think that I should too.  At least I think that way.  In all freedom I think I freely do. For it is the mind’s freedom that is truly the basic human right that no tyrant can in any wise trample into conformity.

We all should free our mind instead as the Beatle once in melody said. That seems quite healthy to me.

The challenge, though, I think, perhaps, is in being watchful over that mind/body connection.

For, of course, a goodly part of the entertainment value is that exquisite pleasure that rings wavelike through the body’s sensors and tickles them into such a fine frenzy fancy afore receding so sweetly into the quietude of serene aftermath, sweet sharing of the intimacy. At least that is to some integral part the romance of it.  What otherwise would be the point of romance?

Fine then.  We should entertain our minds, and we should enjoy the healthy pleasure of such entertainment from time to time.  We will get it anyways.  Just otherwise it’ll be confined to our dreams, sooner or later to manifest as psychic forms of imbalance and mental disturbance, damn the damming dam.

If it can flow through the mind as entertainment and be taken and appreciated as entertainment of the mind, there should be no harm in that.  Especially if we can just let it go.  Nothing to dam up, I think. Nothing to retain. Nothing to get damned about. It is significant and not merely mere illusion, though, to let physical ‘romance’ get stuck in the very physical body, even in the physical part of the mind.  All of this is worldly delusion. (The literal physical world, that is.  Maya, it is so-called).

I think, too, it is good advice that you not fall for the (Maya) delusion of possession.  In either form.  That is, don’t get attached to the bodily sensations (even of the bodily form of the mind) to go on to think of possessing that which makes you feel that way.  Romance gives way to delusion of ownership then. It gives way to some delusional game of kidnap and ransom, tradability, market value, property rights, & and anon, i.e., all other forms of Maya delusion of things of this world.  And don’t forget that second form of possession, the idea that you have sinned, that you are possessed by some second-physical phantom demon who controls your desires and your wants and who taints any relief or outlet you might get from this damnable damming of dams.  Don’t be a worldly-bound Maya delusional damsel of distress.  Don’t damn yourself into fear of Maya delusional world-bound cause and effect because you’ll fear yourself right into the tyrant’s con game:  you’ll be controlled by the tyrant and you’ll not be free.  There is no pleasure nor romance in that.

Or so I think and so I think I said.  So might I advise?  No!  Think for yourself.

I am in no hurry.


It will come.



In the meantime within these mean times, I gift freely & with an adept flair.

I was musing on the subject of people squandering love as I was walking about on the dew-slicked and fog-slicked pavements of the Spanish Creole architectured [sic] (architextured?) [sic] French Quarter end-using unexpected free time on my hands on an unexpected office holiday which felt and still feels unearned , , ,

 . . . Thinking I was, as I said, musing, timeless, masked and distant in the dregs of the third wave of a global pandemic that no one in the red-state surrounding this blue oasis seems to have taken seriously.  It has seemed dragged on timeless, lending more time to time that seems to hang out of time and tocks onward uninterrupted and unsteady, slick with condensation.  All because not taken seriously, in or out of time.  Help is coming all too late, one day late.

My walking was like my syntax above.  Free from constraint, not caught up in time.  Nothing to get hung about.

I recalled how I (and I assume we) have withheld love from one who hasn’t shown the proper or proportionate love or respect in return.  I (and I assume we) have grown only to resent that I (and I assume we) have been put in such a position of not loving what I so desired (and felt deserved) to love.

Funny how misunderstanding is so fundamental and integral to the human condition.  Not ha ha funny either.  Not ha ha funny at all.

But, then I thought, suddenly, Grinch-like, maybe love means a little bit more.  Maybe love is something that is improper to withhold.  Maybe love, like perception of the universe, is different to each individual that deals with it.

And it is true!  Because love is not something physical at all.  Love is a spiritual thing.  It doesn’t have human form and isn’t held to human conditionality.  It cannot be contained or exchanged or earned or won or lost or gained or lost.  It truly cannot have anything to do with exchange value.  It is not insurance.  It is not a bargain.  It is not a steal.  It is not a good deal.  It is not even a treasure.  It is not a possession.  It is not a prize.  Certainly it is not a trophy nor a mark of achievement of any kind.  It’s hard, I know, not to think of love as something physical.  For one thing it stimulates all of our physical and physically related impulse points and feelings – even the ones we deem the higher ones:  the comfort, the security, the general feeling of well-being, of belonging, of – dare I say it? – being real, in the sense of the Velveteen Rabbit, of course, is how I meant it this time. 

Unreal!  You and me are telling me.  This is absurd.  Of course love is physical and real.  Absolutely everything in this physical universe is all there is.  It is all real.  Don’t let some new-age spiritual (not religious) kook convince you otherwise. 

Except that it isn’t.  Real is spiritual.  Real is eternal.  Real is unseeable, unknowable.  You don’t even have to agree with me or believe me to make it so.  You are entirely free to exist for real in your real physical world in your free country which enjoys all its freedom — (courtesy of past, present, and future military service) — within the real world of the real physical universe.  Be a realist.  Go ahead.  And go ahead and be convinced that the physical delight of love is a manifestation of reality of love.  It’s somehow sacred too in its marital form, as opposed to the very dirty, very selfish, very anti-God version it might otherwise be “expressed” in out of marital (or out of heterosexual, God forbid!) state.

And it’s kind of tempting to agree when real experience is all we seem to know.  It’s very tempting to the point of manifest total inability to resist thinking, seeing, knowing and believing that the physical world is all there is, finite and limited and won or lost, comically  or tragically, depending upon one’s tendency to disposition or upon one’s circumstantial occasion of experience.  It is all limited by time, all one-shot, all death-ended and terminal.  All we can do is fear the consequences and/or position ourselves to be saved (not, technically, by our “works” or by our doing at all, to be sure).

But what if it’s not?  I say it’s not.  And it doesn’t matter what you or I say.  It is what it is and it’s not what it’s not.  All is eternal energy of creation in ever now motion.  We can all wait for you and your appointed and/or anointed descendants to prove it wrong. Knock yourself out.

So love, I am sure, is a spiritual phenomena belonging to the real eternity and it is as a purpose of creation.  It is manifest in the Kingdom of Heaven which is now and which no one can disprove nor prove and which is regardless of any organized or individualized belief system or thought control.

As pleasing as it is to rub off another’s physical body according to sexual preference and susceptibility to seduction and beauty and power-tripping and all manner of physiological psychological warp, wax, twist, and wane, love is not physical.  It is not necessarily physically expressed, no matter how convinced we are to justify the ways of God to man, woman, person, camera, tv.  It is not a thing that can really be withheld or squandered.  We have no business holding memories or grudges or frustrations, resentments, or even pleasing masturbatory recollections of any way, shape, or form of  À la recherche du temps perdu.

So forget all of that musing in the fog.  What I do is to love unconditionally and to be more and more of a loving being moment by moment and making the most of everything by sharing love in the non-physical form that it truly is.  It does help make it so much easier that I have also grown very old and have been sufficiently physically satisfied in my day to the point where I don’t feel any need or urge to rub myself off on another’s physical body for fleeting pleasure which I then attempt to treasure by means fair and foul.

Meditation and spiritual development have helped in this or have rendered me obsolete and unphysically loving, perhaps.  Convince me otherwise, then . . .