Kabbalah Notes – Companions of the Light

Under Piccadilly circus 1965

Under Piccadilly circus 1965

When the author Susan Howatch is writing her novel, she loves all her characters astray and how they develop, light and shadow, bad and good, as they well to life, and she loves them for their problems, their sexual nature, their honest discoveries, their extravagant delusions, and their (some of them) difficult paradoxical-surprise endings. Bishop Jardine lost his inner truth and died a sad man – she loves him for that authenticity. He is loved for that reality.   He is one of her inner voices.

This is an important insight with how we are in God, and how we are in our Teacher or Magid. I am loved as my teacher loves me; as my higher Self loves the vehicle along the path. And this is the way I should love –  in the difficulties I imagine I and others have.

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Tree of Advaita - jnana marga, the path of Wisdom

Tree of Advaita – jnana marga, the path of Wisdom

Kabbalah group notes – 30 October 2014

Who is the Watcher of my life? Go back in time to an early memory – who looked through my eyes? When did I first sense behind me, my Magid, my inner teacher?   Keep this question open, because although we may seem to make a priori statements about “the watchers” or “the magidim” for convenience, the inner dialogue is a unique and open mystery to each one of us … when touching base with it.   Through it is received the connection:  the collective human eagle, seeing far and wide.

The magidim may not present words, they may present a symbol or shape or pattern of events in our life. Gina took a book to bed –  the seductive intellectual language of a popular atheist undermining God; an enormous black bluebottle suddenly flew in and hit the page, startling her.

Our Guardians manifest in small doses of synchrony and are “visibly distressed” when a promising pilgrim gets caught up in lower-case politics. Some spiritual- journal entries by an old Indian friend were found, written in 1978 –  since then, he became immersed in the Indian political game.   The early notes brought tears to the old man’s eyes. Had he lived his life?

Try to perceive when the Voiceless Voice is shaking his/her head behind you or to one side, or withdrawing energy from your impulse. Keep hearing them silently.  They know your destiny. They only intervene when they absolutely have to; and then you get three warnings.

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Circle Line 1965

Circle Line 1965

Each one of us is a fractal kaleidoscope, giving the childlike Holy One much pleasure.

On healing situations: a practitioner asks sometimes, Is anyone there? If there is, she stops what she’s doing, leaves the room, lets them get on with it.

Operating theatres are filled with the Watchers – those who gather at emergency, at birth and at death:  those whose concern is with this human river of destiny.

Sacred India Tarot - Parvati waters trees

Sacred India Tarot – Parvati waters trees

Discriminate the musical essence from the soul who creates it – discriminate the symphony from the conductor. Schumann said Schubert’s music cleanses and banishes evil. We have these two aspects in our Watchers, to discern – the soul’s essence evolving through light and shadow; and the guiding factor/dialogue with our Magid.

W spoke of portrait painting, and how the connection/contact between artist and sitter over real time and space speaks much more profoundly than a photo. This contact is heart to heart  (a way of love).

tree of life spiral

Warnings cross your path – when Tom was in India, a big python glided by, as thick as a football; yet the person with him didn’t see it.  Julia had a dream: should she take a certain path, or stay with Kabbalah? The dream was Chartres with all the seats turned to face the door, the Rose window. There sat a very old man – Melchisedek – and she melted into him.   He said, keep the path Kabbalistically. All are one.

You can tell the quality of good or bad movies: likewise your inner guidance – its quiet calibre and commitment, rather than drama.

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Confession by the fire - 1963

Confession by the fire – 1963

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The language of visions and of dreams comes from the connective link, and when your path forks, note the atmosphere in the fork before you go down it too far.

Sense the Pre-sence of the Guides. Clarity is a breakthrough of Yetzirah into Beriah. In Mozart’s Magic Flute, water flows to the left and fire on the right, with the air we breathe … the flute … in the centre.

Praying for those who died in holocaust or violence, for their rest, we pause – a dark night of soul – a sadness. The inner Teacher helps us to raise the level. They indicate.

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Evening in the Snowdon hut, 1964

Evening in the Snowdon hut, 1964

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Jacobs Ladder painting

A question was asked whether a Watcher or Magid can exist simultaneously incarnate (as an embodied pilgrim) and discarnate (as source of wisdom – like a lighthouse – to distant pilgrims).

The magidim are not angels, they are human – they are involved in the human condition which the angels cannot perceive. The angels have cosmic functions:  the magidim are the clear dew of our human resonance above the clouds.  They are discarnate in Yetzirah (the World of Formation) and they have a way of orchestrating omens. So look for the pattern of the omens, to see your magid.

On the tandem of magid and embodied soul: while we are discarnate, we can do and be the things in life which we cannot do or be in the physical body – where we have to buy a ticket to get from Finchley Road to Cockfosters. The magid doesn’t buy a ticket or travel – the magid unifies the two places, because the magid stands a little beyond space and time.

Astrology characteristics in our chart, build up an individuated picture over the lifetime.

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jacobs ladder

Jacobs Ladder showing the Four Worlds in the interlocking Trees: Aziluth, Emanation (names of God); Beriah, Creation (Archangels and magidim); Yetzirah the Formative World (planets, magidim and the psyche) and Assiyah the Physical World (physical organs, the material universe.)

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I do not see the Watcher as a linear fixture. I guess our Guardians and their quality, proliferate according to the level of third eye in the intelligent perception. Each Guardian is a member of their own School, each Guardian has his or her magid also; and when I lift above the waves, I should see through that face-cloud, receiving the quintessential One behind it – transparency on transparency.   In spiritual lineages the features change but remain constant as the One. Our Guardians blend the bookends of our life together as a distinct and  profound thought form; but we tread the mill.   We walk their scented trail.

My basis for contemplation is the Tree, where these thoughts and ideas come naturally.

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Paths of Awakening

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My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

A Resonance between Two Models – Ramesh Balsekar & Leonard Cohen: Part Two

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A lesson with Owl

In my previous post, I abridged the full transcript of Ramesh Balsekar’s conversation with Leonard Cohen in early 1999, because it was very long.  Here are the missing bits, including Ramesh’s teaching on Satori.  For the dialogue to run smoothly, I have retained some of the exchanges in Part One.

Ramesh namaste

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Ramesh Balsekar:  But you used the word “resonance”.

Leonard Cohen:  Yes Sir.

RB – Can you explain that a little bit, Leonard?

LC – I found that during some of the rigorous retreats that we’re subjected to, I would find myself opening one of your books, specifically The Final Truth;  and I would find that your writing would illuminate the discourses of our Master, and vice versa.  That resonance became very discernible.  It became urgent that I

RB – A similar thing happened to me.

LC -Yes?

RB – You know Wei Wu Wei?  Have you heard of Wei Wu Wei?  – particularly one book which a friend of mine gave me twenty years ago, which I knew was a treasure, but I couldn’t understand it – I kept it aside. So that was what used to be – what my teacher said, and what was said in the book – amazing. Is that the sort of thing you mean?

LC – Yes Sir, it is.

RB – I see.  And in particular, The Final Truth?

LC – Well, that was the book I happened to have with me in my pack.  I would open it at any free moment, and the words would rise up, illuminating the whole day. 

RB – Yes, I see.  Have you read any other books of mine?

LC – Yes, I have just finished “Pointers”.  I have it with me now.  But I read it very, very slowly.  It seems that one section can occupy me for long, long periods.

RB – Yes.  And then, you’ve been here ten days!  But you’ve been so silent!

LC – I’ve been sipping at the nectar.  It’s very delicious to be here.

leonard and ramesh in sindhula

RB – Yes.  So now, what you have heard these ten days, and what you have read in the book, and your original understanding – how do they resonate?  Can you explain that a little bit?

LC – On the intellectual model, your model becomes clearer and clearer to me – your conceptual presentation – and so does my old Teacher’s.  On the experiential level, I feel the weakening of certain proprietorial feelings of doership … …  You know, over the years, especially anybody who hangs around a Zendo meditation hall, is going to get a lot of ‘free samples’, as you put it.  If you sit for long hours every day and are subjected to sleeplessness and protein deficiency, you’re going to start having experiences that are interesting … … A greed for those kinds of experiences develops.  Which is what happens in monasteries.

Bunny hide and seek

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RB – I see.  You see, what happens is – Wayne and I had a very brief talk a couple of days ago; we were both walking on the roof. He made a point that while certain practices bringing about these free samples, inflate the ego, could these practices also not inflate the ego to an extent where it bursts? Which is one way for the annihilation of the ego.

LC – That is a very excellent characterisation of this kind of practice.

Ramesh and Wayne

RB – That is what it is supposed to do. But I told Wayne, the explosion will happen if that is the will of God, and if it is the will of God, that that bodymind organism follow THAT PATH. This reminded me of the story of Lao Tsu and his disciple, which I’m sure you know, but I will repeat it.  A disciple went to Lao Tsu with his face flushed with the vigour of achievement.  And he told him, “Master!  I’ve got it!”  Lao Tsu compassionately placed his hands on the disciple’s shoulders and told him, “Son, you have NOT got it.”  You’ve heard this story?

LC – No, Sir.

RB – Oh really?  Oh well!  He said, “No my son, you haven’t got it.”  So, dejected, the disciple went away.  Some time later he came back again, fell at the Master’s feet and said “Master, it has happened.”

Angel with Rabbit

Lao Tsu looked into his eyes, knew it, and raised him up saying, “Now tell me what happened.”  The disciple explained, “I was so SURE that I had got what I wanted, all the experiences, all the joy, I knew I had got it;  but when you told me that I had NOT got it, I accepted that as the truth.  But it was also the truth as far as I was concerned, that I had done all I could, and yet you said I had achieved nothing.  So the result was: accepting BOTH as the truth.  I went about my way, not wanting anything, not expecting anything;  and suddenly I noticed that the joyous experiences had gone, but a peace had descended.  And it also struck me then, that this was the peace that I was after – not achieving anything!”

So this is the peace that came when the seeking stopped.  You see?  So, it was the destiny of the mindbody organism of that particular disciple, that the ego be bloated to an extent where it burst;  and the pin that burst it was Lao Tsu telling him “No, you haven’t got it!”

centaur, athene & owl 87

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But again, the danger IS – if it is the will of God and the destiny of that bodymind organism – that the ego will bloat, and stay bloated at a level where the bloated ego considers himself a Master, you see?  and wants and does get hundreds and thousands of disciples!  And the bloated ego stays there.  So it may not get pricked.

But, when the ego gets weaker and weaker and weaker, then it has to ultimately die, finding out “Who is doing anything?  Who is seeking anything?  Who is to get anything? You see?  That is why I said, the only Sadhana I recommend, is to find out at the end of the day, how many actions that I remember having happened today, were MY actions, and how many just happened?

mind thief police

And I dare say that an honest analysis will make the ego come to the conclusion that no actions were HIS actions, or HER actions!  And if this happens day after day –  it may start with the end of the day, but it will be found that this analysis happens many times DURING the day! – until towards the end, an action happens and the analysis that it was not my action, happens almost simultaneously;  so that with the firmest possible conviction, with unconditional acceptance that I do nothing, the question arises, not intellectually “Who am I?” but from the very depths of frustration – it can be said, frustration of the ego – “If I have not been doing, if no act is my action, who is this ME I’ve been so concerned about?”

Ramana Maharshi used the words “Who am I” because in English there is a marvellous distinction between ‘I’ and ‘me’, but in the Tamil language and most other languages I am told, this distinction is not there. So when Ramana Maharshi said, “Find out who am I”, he really meant, “Who is this me I’m so concerned about?”

Ramana & Rabbit

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If this process starts, it is the will of God. And if this process reaches a certain depth – every step is God’s will and the destiny of that body-mind organism – the actual arising of this question is there a me, out of DEEPEST FRUSTRATION, is what is perhaps called THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL

In the time lag between the arising of the question and the arising of an answer, the deepest frustration is the dark night of the soul. And the dark night of the soul awakens you into the answer: “There never has been a ‘me’. There is thinking, but no thinker. There is doing, but no doer.”   The thinker, the doer, the experiencer, comes later, and becomes proud, or has a feeling of guilt.   Thinking happens. A thought arises and leads to some action. And later on, the individual ego doer comes in and says “I had a brilliant idea which I put into practice, and now I am Bill Gates, making five hundred dollars every second.” That is how thought occurs. But the one who says ‘I thought’ comes later. And it was God’s will and the destiny of the mindbody organism that that should happen. Albert Einstein in his total humility, has gone on record as saying the equation came to him from outside.

LC – I think that’s the experience of every artist and mind worker.

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guitar sketch leonard cohen

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RB – Yes. Nureyev the ballet dancer has said, “Nureyev dances best when Nureyev isn’t there.”   And the same thing is said by I suppose, any artist in whatever field.   So, proceeding this way, even that depends on the will of God and the destiny of the organism.

There’s a tiny book, an abridged edition of the Bhagavad Gita.  Have you read it?

LC – This edition, no.

RB – Bhagavad Gita is seven hundred verses.  Someone told me that Ramana Maharshi had condensed it into forty-three or forty-eight verses.  This friend of mine who used to come regularly, had a copy, so I said, “Would you give me that copy?”  He said “Yes, yes, I’ll bring it next time.”  And four times he came, and four times he forgot.  So I said, “Ramana Maharshi’s answer to me is clear.  Do it on your own!” – (Laughter.)  “Don’t read MY collection!”

And so I started doing it:  so mine came to sixty-six verses.  And one of those verses is this:  “Out of thousands of people there is one seeker. Out of the many seekers, there is ONLY ONE who knows me in principle.”   You see?  So the many seekers who don’t reach this ultimate end, obviously have to be following paths which are not supposed to lead them to the end, during the process of that bodymind organism anyway.

So the misconception “What is the best path?  Which is the best Spiritual path?” – there is no “best spiritual path”.  There is only a particular spiritual path for you, or for this particular bodymind organism, at that moment of its development.  So the Source will send this bodymind organism to that Guru who is appropriate for him or her at the time;  all the bodymind organism can do, is to follow that Guru to whom he has been sent.

But my only point is this:  many Gurus, unfortunately, tie down their disciples, saying “Now you have come to me. You wanted to be initiated. Now our relationship is life-long.” You see? But to me, that is ridiculous. You initiated him, but who sent him to you?   That Source certainly has the right to send that disciple somewhere else!   Who is this Guru, to bind him for life?   Therefore the word “Guru hopping” is used in a sort of derogatory way.

russian dolls

LC – Guru …?

RB – Guru Hopping.  (Laughter).  It’s used in a derogatory way.  To me, it is perfectly logical and acceptable.

LC – In the Zen tradition as you know, monks went from one Master to another, in search of different aspects of the teaching. I don’t feel I am betraying my Teacher by being here.

RB – Yes. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. In fact, Wayne told me, you told your Teacher.

LC – Yes.

RB – And he didn’t ask for …?

LC – Yes. He asked me to cook him one last meal. Because I’m his cook.

cloud colloquy

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RB – I see.  So, Leonard, is he likely to ask you when you go back, what did you learn?

LC – My understanding, he will discern exactly. I think the issue more urgent, is whether I stay there or not.

RB – Yes. But if he does ask you – which is not impossible, is it? – what would you say, Leonard?

LC – Well, we have – I would try to convey to him in the terms that – but he doesn’t speak English … …  I would probably gasho to him. (Bows deeply)  

RB – This is gasho?

LC – Yes, and depending on the truth of the moment, whether I could step aside from the understanding and let the understanding communicate itself …

RB – The answer is, “I don’t know”.   Is that what you meant?

LC – It’s correct.

RB – Then that is absolutely correct: “I don’t know what answer will come out.”

LC – He has, you know, the Japanese rigour.   So he would question, he would listen carefully to my saying “I don’t know”. Because “I don’t know” is the answer to many koans.

RB – No no. What I’m saying is: “I don’t know” is your answer to me.

LC – Ah Yes.  Yes, Sir.

RB – That I DON’T know what will come out of my lips if such a question were asked.  That’s what I meant.   When I said “I don’t know”, what I mean is – that would be your answer to my question about what you should say.

leonard and ramesh 1999_0001

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You see? So some experience happens.  Then people want more experiences.  This greed as you quite rightly said, for the experience.  Wanting – ananda means ‘bliss’.  But the word ‘calm’ or ‘cool’ – deep down, that is how the word has come – cool, or calm.  At one stage Ramana Maharshi uses the word ‘bliss’ because it has come down – not Ramana Maharshi, but in the translation.  One point I came across, which I have triple underlined – he said: “Calm is superior to bliss.”  The word I prefer is “peace”.

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Each unto each other

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My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

A Resonance between Two Models – Leonard Cohen & Ramesh Balsekar

Ramesh 1

Read more of this conversation Part Two

During my visit to Ramesh in Mumbai, in early 1999, I witnessed the following conversation with Leonard Cohen, and bought the tape.
After I got home, I made this transcript:

Ramesh – You live in a Zen monastery, I am told?

Leonard – That’s correct, yes.

For how long, three or four years?

I’ve been associated with this institution for about thirty years – and about four and a half years ago, I was ordained as a monk.

I see. I see. Would you say it is a pretty stiff discipline?

It’s – very rigorous.

But you like it?

Not particularly, no.

Well that is honest. So what I would like to ask is this: the understanding before you came here, and what I talk about – how does it compare?

It was the resonance between the two models, yours and my teachers’, that led me to study your books with some diligence. And because of the experiences I received from your books, and because of the advanced stage of my Teacher and yourself, I felt it would be appropriate to come and sit with you.

leonard cohen 1

I see. But you used the word ‘resonance’. Can you explain that a little bit, Leonard?

I found that during some of the rigorous retreats that we’re subjected to, I would find myself opening one of your books, specifically The Final Truth; and I would find that your writing would illuminate the discourses of our Master, and vice versa. It became urgent that I …

A similar thing happened to me. When I was with my – Nisargadatta Maharaj. You know Wei Wu Wei?

Yes, Sir.

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Particularly one book which a friend of mine gave me twenty years ago, which I knew was a treasure, but I couldn’t understand it – I kept it aside. So that was what used to be – what Maharaj said, and what was said in the book – amazing. …   You’ve been here for ten days!

Yes, Sir.

But you’ve been so silent!

Ramesh talks at home

I’ve been sipping at the nectar. It’s very delicious to be here.   On the intellectual level, your model becomes clearer and clear to me – your conceptual presentation – and so does my old Teacher’s. On the experiential level, I feel the weakening of certain proprietorial feelings about doership.

That is a very good word!   Proprietorial – me, mine!   I see. Now, this weakening – how do you mean this weakening, when did it start?   Did it start thirty years ago? Is that what you are saying?

I couldn’t characterize this seeking as spiritual. It was a kind of urgent …

You mean what started thirty years ago was not really spiritual?

No Sir.

I see. I see.

I don’t know if it is today. The description seems to pale in the urgency of the actual search, which is for peace.

Yes. Yes.

And you know, over the years, especially anyone who hangs around a Zendo meditation hall, is going to get a lot of free samples, as you put it. If you sit for long hours every day, and are subjected to sleeplessness and protein deficiency, you’re going to start having experiences that are interesting. It was a hunger for those experiences that kept me around, because I NEEDED those experiences.

YES! The HUNGER for those experiences. Yes! So?

leonard cohen 2

I forget where we were. I’m sorry.

You said, experiences happened, and there was a hunger for those experiences.

There was a hunger to maximize, to continue, a greed to … a greed for those kinds of experiences develops. Which is what happens in monasteries.

I entirely agree, yes. There is a greed for those experiences.

Very much so. And I must say that my old Teacher puts little value on those experiences.

I see. In fact, did he WARN you against them?

Warns you, and BEATS YOU, against them!

With his stick? On your shoulder?

Yes Sir. We are not encouraged to take these hallucinations seriously.

But how effective are those beatings, Leonard?

Not effective at all. I’ve seen them more effective in the case of other monks than they were in this case. So I respect the system; it’s a rigorous system based on a very useable model, but it wortks for some and does not work for others.

Quite right. I see. And what you’ve been hearing for ten days, has it made some difference, do you think?

Sweet!

leonard cohen 3

Some difference in this greed?   Can you explain that a little bit, please Leonard?

Your emphasis on the disidentification with the sense of doership, is crucial to the weakening of – the modification of that greed.   And by the grace of this activity, I have experienced …

You have tried it, during the last ten days?   I see.

Yes. Of course, greed arises. The hunger arises, legitimately, and without my bidding. The greed for peace, for equanimity, for balance, arises spontaneously. But I feel that somehow I don’t have any leverage on the apparatus. Somehow there is a sweetening of the whole experience.

I see. You see, what happens is – Wayne and I had a very brief talk a couple of days ago; we were both walking on the roof. He made a point that while certain practices bringing about these free samples, inflate the ego, could these practices also not inflate the ego to an extent where it bursts? Which is one way for the annihilation of the ego.

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That is a very excellent characterisation of this kind of practice.

I see. That is what it is supposed to do. But I told Wayne, the explosion will happen if that is the will of God, and if it is the will of God, that that bodymind organism follow THAT PATH. … … Ramana Maharshi used the words “Who am I” because in English there is a marvellous distinction between ‘I’ and ‘me’, but in the Tamil language and most other languages I am told, this distinction is not there. So when Ramana Maharshi said, “Find out who am I”, he really meant, “Who is this me I’m so concerned about?”

Ramana Arunachala III

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If this process starts, it is the will of God. And if this process reaches a certain depth – every step is God’s will and the destiny of that body-mind organism – the actual arising of this question is there a me, out of DEEPEST FRUSTRATION, is what is perhaps called THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL   In the time lag between the arising of the question and the arising of an answer, the deepest frustration is the dark night of the soul. And the dark night of the soul awakens you into the answer: “There never has been a ‘me’. There is thinking, but no thinker. There is doing, but no doer.”   The thinker, the doer, the experiencer, comes later, and becomes proud, or has a feeling of guilt.   Thinking happens. A thought arises and leads to some action. And later on, the individual ego doer comes in and says “I had a brilliant idea which I put into practice, and now I am Bill Gates, making five hundred dollars every second.” That is how thought occurs. But the one who says ‘I thought’ comes later. And it was God’s will and the destiny of the mindbody organism that that should happen. Albert Einstein in his total humility, has gone on record as saying the equation came to him from outside.

I think that’s the experience of every artist and mind worker.

Yes. Nureyev the ballet dancer has said, “Nureyev dances best when Nureyev isn’t there.”   And the same thing is said by I suppose, any artist in whatever field … …   Bhagavad Gita says this: “Out of thousands of people there is one seeker. Out of the many seekers, there is ONLY ONE who knows me in principle.” … … Many Gurus, unfortunately, tie down their disciples, saying “Now you have come to me. You wanted to be initiated. Now our relationship is life-long.” You see? But to me, that is ridiculous. You initiated him, but who sent him to you?   That Source certainly has the right to send that disciple somewhere else!   Who is this Guru, to bind him for life?

In the Zen tradition as you know, monks went from one Master to another, in search of different aspects of the teaching. I don’t feel I am betraying my Teacher by being here.

leonard cohen 4

Yes. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. In fact, Wayne told me, you told your Teacher.

Yes. He asked me to cook him one last meal. Because I’m his cook.

And what is his favourite dish?

Uh – salmon teriyaki.

Oh. Well, that’s – that’s my favourite dish too. I mean, the particular dish you mention, I don’t know what it is, but … salmon.

It’s just marinated in soy sauce and saki, ginger, pepper, for a certain period of time, and then battered.

So is cooking one of your talents?

It’s not a talent, it’s a duty. I cook for the old man.

So it is your duty to cook salmon for your Guru.

That is correct.

And it is the Guru’s duty to eat it, whatever way you cook it!

He is very cavalier with his duties.

I see. Yes. YES. So, Leonard, is he likely to ask you when you go back, what did you learn?

My understanding, he will discern exactly. I think the issue more urgent, is whether I stay there or not.

Yes. But if he does ask you – which is not impossible, is it? – what would you say, Leonard?

Well, we have – I would try to convey to him in the terms that – but he doesn’t speak English.

Ramesh Balsekar 14 feb 13_0001

So you speak Japanese?

No. He speaks very very little English. I speak very little Japanese. But we’ve been studying together and drinking together for a long time.

What is his favourite drink?

I tried to introduce him to vintage French wine, which I consider a refined beverage, but he insists on drinking saki.

If you ask me, I’d prefer Scotch or sherry.

I agree with you. He did – he was very discerning about cognac.

Yes.

He liked cognac, and he established masculine and feminine qualities to the different brands. For instance he thought Remy Martin had a feminine expression, while Courvoisier had a masculine expression. None of these designations were taken too seriously after the third or fourth drink.

You see, that is the whole point, Leonard. The whole business is taken far too seriously. That is the ridiculous thing about it. There’s nothing serious about it, because there’s no seeker!   And who is serious about it? – the seeker!   You see? The seeking goes on, on its own course. So, if this question were asked you Leonard, is there a specific point which you learned from Ramesh – which is NOT what you had earlier – what would you say?   I don’t want to suggest an answer …

I would probably gasho to him. (Bows deeply)   And depending on the truth of the moment, whether I could step aside from the understanding and let the understanding communicate itself …

The answer is, “I don’t know”.   Is that what you meant?

It’s correct.

Then that is absolutely correct: “I don’t know what answer will come out.”

ramesh listening

He has, you know, the Japanese rigour.   So he would question, he would listen carefully to my saying “I don’t know”. Because “I don’t know” is the answer to many koans.

No no. What I’m saying is: “I don’t know” is your answer to me. … …   Must be a pretty hard life there?

I’m given many privileges that the younger monks don’t have, because I have a family and obligations, so although I’m not free from the general form, which is very early waking up and long hours in the meditation hall and lots of work, I’m allowed to go down, into the city from time to time, to take care of my affairs and see my children.

Yes. I see. Yes. You have a family?

I have two children.

Two children. I see. And a wife?

I never married.

I see. So the two children are grown up?

They’re in their middle twenties.

Oh I see. But they’re on their own then, yes? – You have to help them?

They’re on their own, but I feel I can be of use to them. It’s difficult raising children in America. It’s a difficult manoevring and navigating through a lot of dangerous waters. So I’ve tried to stay close to them through some very difficult periods. A child growing up in America with money.

They have their own money?

No, I mean, in a comfortable surrounding.

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monkeys 2

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Yes. What is your relationship with your children? What advice do you give them – depending on the circumstances? The point is, how does one raise one’s children with the total acceptance that each child has its own destiny? Each child is programmed in a unique way. And yet you have to do your duty, as a father. What has been your experience, Leonard? Was it interesting?

My experience is to rely on instinct at the moment, and discard principles I myself received from my own parents, which were quite effective in their own way. I find for instance, that that the way I did it, or the way it was revealed to me –

Do they live on their own?

My daughter lives in my apartment, and I live on the mountain, and my son lives around the corner.

And you provide the money for them, or do they work?

They work. They work hard.

And they earn their own living then?

Yes, Sir.   But they grew up in a privileged environment. They didn’t have to work. They didn’t have to struggle.

They didn’t have to earn and learn?

No, they didn’t have to earn and learn, and not only that, but  they were exposed to things very early in their lives, as many American kids are. I had been through that myself. So I was able to react in a way that was unconventional. But having understood something  …

From personal experience?

From personal experience, I established a connection with the child on the basis of that common experience, rather than on a principle of right or wrong.

wei wu wei vi

Quite right. Yes. It worked?

And fortunately, it seemed to work.

Oh? I see. In other words, you talked to your children not like a father to a son or daughter, but as one person who has experience of what they are experiencing.

Yes Sir, that’s correct; not only that, but having taken that course, it’s enabled a real usable friendship to develop.

Yes! Yes! In fact the relationship itself must have taken a beautiful turn.

It has! My daughter says, like “You’re really cool, Dad.”

That is the highest compliment, isn’t it. Cool. And the curious part of it is, this word is really the definition of the traditional word ananda. The traditional word ananda is translated as “bliss”. But my objection to the word “bliss” is, it raises expectations in the seeker.

It’s a tyranny.

Calm. Cool. Well, this is a great compliment from your daughter!

It was, it was.

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Wei wu wei ii

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You are cool, Dad. And what about your son? What do they do?

My daughter runs a store for antique deco furniture. She goes to England and buys furniture and brings it back and sells it. She got a job with an antique dealer two years ago, who apprenticed her. And my son has just put out his first record with a big record company.

Oh well! So he inherited your talent for music?

Well, I don’t have much talent for music, but he has. People who know my work will, er … I have a kind of croaking delivery. But he actually is very musical.

What you are saying is, your son is better than you are – were.

He has strengths that are much more apparent!

And you have told him that?   So he must ALSO have said “Dad, you’re cool.”

He has.

The son being praised by the father. So you have a very good relationship with your children!

Thank God, I do.

wei wu wei v

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Again, God’s grace. You know what I say about God’s grace and God’s will? We use the word God’s grace when something nice happens. When something not so nice happens, and we know we can do nothing about it, we put our head down and say God’s will. So now, if somebody asks you Leonard, “how do you live your life?” – you are about sixtyish?

Getting to be sixty-five.

I see. How do you live your life? Does living your life present a problem? What would be your answer, from personal experience? Is living your life now, with this understanding, a difficult thing?

Well, if it is – and it’s been the experience of this being, that things come with difficulty rather than with ease – so I think the perspective on that programming is changing.

I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that. Things come difficult?

Yes, for instance I’m a song writer by profession …

You still write?

Yes Sir. And I’ve always found that I write one word at a time. With sweat and difficulty.

Like pulling out teeth.

It’s like pulling teeth, and it takes a great effort. I’ve written some decent songs, and people ask me about song writing, you know, they say “How do you write a good song?” And I always say, “If I knew where the good songs came from, I would go there more often.” I don’t know where they come from. I know that I have to sit at my desk or in my café or wherever it is, and sweat over it. Other song writers greater than I – and I’ve had this conversation with them – will give me completely different information. They’ll say, like “I wrote it in the back of the taxi cab” – you know, a great song. So it seems to be my experience, that things are difficult in just the way this programming works.

That is correct.

ramesh for cover

So the understanding now is, that this programming, unless it is the will of God to change the programming, is going to be as it is, but I don’t have to get involved in the programming. I can work at my desk as I’ve always done, but without that additional tyranny of disapproval of the method; because this is the method that …

… is supposed to be for you

… is supposed to be for me.

I tell you how I understand it. What you are saying is this: writing a song comes easy for some people. They can write one in a taxicab. For you it becomes much more difficult. But what you are saying, I think, is, that there is no wish that you could do what that other fellow is doing. Isn’t that right?

No. There is no wish.

Wei wu wei iii

That’s the whole point. You have accepted the way YOU write your songs, and you have accepted the way someone else is able to write the songs.

And deeper than that, Sir, there is – I’ve always had a sense of this – this perception of this bodymind orgasm – organism … !

The American pronunciation!

… has been that there is a background of anguish, of mental anguish, that does not seem to respond to any methods that I impose on it. So as that understanding deepens, I try less to impose any methods; and although the chatter and the activity of the mind continues, it doesn’t seem to have its poisonous sting.

Say that again, please? The chattering of the mind goes on?

The chattering of the mind, and the alleged anguish of the mind continues to operate sometimes in degrees of intensity that make one gasp or cry for help …

YES!

But with this understanding that is dawning, it seems that I am less willing to criticize or impose.

I see. Again, the same thing. You write the songs the way YOU are programmed to write, but there is no wishing that YOU could do what some others can. Doesn’t the same thing apply here? Isn’t that what you are saying?

Yes Sir. (Bows deeply). Yes, Sir.

Exactly the same thing. The chattering of the mind happens, but there is no wish that the chattering of the mind should become less. Isn’t that what you are saying? So whatever happens is accepted. Alright, there IS the chattering of the mind! It is the nature of the mind to chatter. It is the nature of the monkey to moan. So you let the monkey moan – the way he wants to! Therefore, the chattering of the mind may be there, but there’s no anguish. Is that what you are saying – as I think you are?

play monkeys

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It is. But even if there is anguish …

You mean, accept even that anguish is acceptance? Quite correct. Even if the anguish does happen, even if the involvement does happen, acceptance of it means “the cutting off of the involvement, when it is accepted.”

Correct.

So, even the involvement has to be accepted. Involvement happens – oh, alright, so it is happening …   Thank you very much, Leonard. That is exactly what I was hoping I’d get from you. (Obeisance).

First published in Ramana Maharshi Foundation UK Journal
“Self Enquiry”, summer 1999

ravens

Read more of this conversation in PART TWO

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**

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

Nilakantha and the Golden Constellation

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Sacred India Tarot - Ramana as Skanda son of Siva

Sacred India Tarot – Ramana as Skanda son of Siva

Tensions are imagination trapped in illusory codes. The tension appears to have the power to materialise, but it has no substance after the thought.   Whenever I get through a bit of rotten concrete I turn and see how weak it is. The human lower mind is powered mostly by negative apprehensions. This is why it became embedded in our psyche and expectation, that we have no power to see above the hedges or to change direction – no power of Magic.

There is a huge gulf between general human bedtime, and the real human nature to draw together the stars and move with them consciously, joyfully.   The power and the dawn and the history of Magic is simply … this! to take up my bed and walk.

The tapestry is the stars and the Great Heaven:  quantum unity. This theme of the tapestry is mirrored back to me from persons I move with, this week: things they say. My tiny thread-loop in the tapestry stands in the lane at night and looks up at the sky.

murmuration by jchip84

Starling murmuration by jchip84

Back in history, some priests got hold of Magic and began to manipulate aspects of it with a tendency which grew and grew.   For a while they had power and the passwords to re-shape people and environment beguilingly.   It concealed from them, the Power.   They lost sight and lived inside dark glasses to write history. Tension bred and grew, which obscures and fragments the Power.   The political world is ruled by Tension, which manifests nowadays all our yesterdays.   But I see the Power and I see the monster in the waves.   The Power is hauling it up and out to be seen.   Tension appears eternal (so does hell) but in due course it breaks and self destroys. It dismantles.  It is rotten concrete whose reinforcing wires get rusted and snap.

The Tension which obscures the Power is separative.   By “separative” I do not mean the sword-tip which parts the elements to live with and enhance each other, like brush strokes of colour.   “Separative” is the dreary default dream-like notion that I am an isolated object, and therefore powerless, a frightened wage slave, reading only the headlines.

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Robert and seek

The Power which dissolves the Tension, is “all there is”.   There is as Robert used to say – the power that knows the way.   I need only turn toward it voluntarily, and see.   This is metanoia: a word meaning ‘repent’, in the sense of ‘turn around to face the light’.   Whenever and wherever this happens in the world, those stars come out and form a constellation linking oceans: a golden net.

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I just came across this, in Katie Spero’s blog Let Yourself Learn: – together with a golden mountain and what happens when the subtle thread to your friend strengthens over the ocean:

“When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer
in his absence as the mountain to the climber
is clearer from the plain.”

Kahlil Gibran

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Siva - Rudra the Wild Hunter

Siva – Rudra the Wild Hunter

A Story – adapted from Alan Jacobs’ “Myths of Siva: Siva Nilakantha”

“Once upon a time the Gods in heaven and Demons in Hell formed a parliament. To create ambrosia, they planned to churn the Milky Way as if to make butter.  They tore great Mount Mandarva from its roots, for a churning stick; Vasuki, snake of the world became the rope.  

“As they whirled and stirred the celestial ocean, to their horror there rose to the surface, a hideous black oil-slick – Kalakuntha, the world’s poison:  Time itself.  The Gods and Devils in terror like smart young ladies seeing a mouse, appealed to Lord Siva. 

“Siva dipped his hands in the sea. Drinking the poison to the last drop, he held it in his lily  throat which – as if kissed by a serpent – turned a sinister peacock blue.   Now named Nilakantha, Blue-throated One, he retired to his cave in Mount Kailas.  All the sages and rishis made their pilgrimage.

kailas and manasarovar

kailas and manasarovar

 

“Ramana on Siva’s hill Arunachala says, ‘When the selfish thought returns to the Self, Self-awareness shines, distilled and pure:  the elixir of health and wholeness, ever enduring.’

ramana sketch

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“Mixing too much with the world, I swallowed poisons  churned up by confusing my activities, good and bad.   With a deep exhalation, I cleanse my body.   Drawing in fresh prana, I use that attention to dive within and find in my heart’s cave, Siva Nilakantha … ever illumining those who, from dreaded Kalakuntha, call upon His transmutation.”

Alan Jacobs 1993

 

“Within a cavern of  man’s trackless spirit
is thrown an image so intensely fair
that the adventurous thoughts that wander near it
worship, and as they kneel, tremble and wear
the splendour of its presence, and the light
penetrates their dreamlike frame
’till they become charged with the strength of flame.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Siva - Rudra Immerses

Siva – Rudra Immerses

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**

Gene Keys Golden Path Program

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

A Picture-Book – Pierrot and the White Wolf

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Pierrot in the fields

Pierrot in the fields

This story for our children, and for the world’s ageless children in ourselves, was written in French by Catherine Harding during the 1990s; she asked me to illustrate it. In due course it was published privately in France, with a few of my illustrations, as “Les Explorateurs du Vrai Monde”Explorers of the Real World.   Here is the complete set of drawings and paintings I did for Catherine, plus a few extras at the end.

Pierrot’s story is a celebration of the late Douglas Harding’s life and work. Douglas was born in Lowestoft, and trained as an architect. After he discovered his real Home, he travelled all over the world for sixty years to share it. His unique series of experiments tap our resources of infinity, and demonstrate the treasure lying at the heart of the great traditional faiths.   The experiments can be done at any time and place, right now.

Douglas and Catherine met and married in about 1991; their loving and down-to-earth teamwork – built open for each other – enchanted all who attended their workshops. Douglas passed away in 2007, age 98.

Douglas & Catherine Harding at Nacton

Douglas & Catherine Harding at Sholland, Nacton

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For more information about Catherine and the Headless Way, contact The Sholland Trust, 87B Cazenove Road, London NW16 6BB, or visit www.headless.org.   Douglas’s many books include On Having No Head, The Hierarchy of Heaven and Earth, The Trial of the Man who said he was God, Look for Yourself, The Spectre in the Lake, To Be And Not to Be, Head off Stress, and The Little Book of Life and Death.

Douglas's 90th Birthday

Douglas’s 90th Birthday

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Now, here are the pictures which tell the story. To view, click on any image.

Chapters One and Two – A White Wolf Arrives in the Village

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Chapters Three, Four, Five, Six – Experiments in Seeing

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Pierrot showed them all his secrets

Pierrot showed them all his secrets

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Chapter Seven – Sharing the Seeing

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Chapters Eight-Thirteen – The Attack

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Chapters Fourteen-Seventeen – A French Village Awakens

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Artists’ Epilogue

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It is time for the artist to ask herself some questions.   As I draw my self-portrait, what do I see? What enters my extended hand and heart? What fills the un-named movement along my arm, what welcoming focus – shape to space?   What ancient world, before historians wrote a word?

Who draws through me? the taut flow through finger and thumb to a dancer’s point ?   What smile in space for lines of life to happen?   What urgency gives birth?   And the tight hours – as often as not – groping towards the magic “touch” with tippex, eraser, and elimination?

How many faces do I see? Do I have one here?   Or is it yours? Plainly, my daily life and relationships require the same careful attention to precisely what is there.   Not what I’m told, or think I should believe: but receiving the curve – “I am you are. Thou art I am.” Keep practicing. Look, I am built open. I may trade faces with Pierrot’s white wolf, or with my foot on the floor, a still-life on the window sill, a sketch-pad on the kitchen table, the sense of dotting an I. I may trade faces with you or with the sky whose clouds keep changing curtains.   Where I look in the room, looks back, and I, un-named and changelessly, change all the time.   Look, if I cross my eyes a bit, there’s a nasal blur and spectacle frames – as I thought. But when I put them on … The One Eye has these details like a mountain spring.

As I put life’s tunnel on my nose, who comes to meet me but my Friend?

47 spectacles

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and now a surprise Present to unwrap at the End of …

48 douglas in paper bag

“Wait,” said Douglas (on our first meeting in Nacton), “How many faces in this bag?  Scientifically – how many faces do you see?”

I looked for some time silently.  The sides of the paper bag removed Douglas’s face from the context of everyday resistances.  Bit by bit I freed myself to gaze and to receive the information as if I never saw such a thing before.  It was rather warm in the paper tube, and from time to time we had to come out like divers, for air.  At first the intimacy made me feel selfconscious.  Presently as I overrode my small fret, I found myself contemplating with compassion, a living landscape.  I received the searchlight of that sensitive terrain into my emptiness.  I saw how the pupils and lids of the eyes narrowed or dilated, as they roved and scanned mountains and valleys.  They examined features in detail – eyes, nose, the lines in forehead, the contour of the cheek, the growth of hair, the twitch and lilt of expression.  I saw the baby unborn and everlasting, the bed of the river, the vulnerable soul in those dark eyes which, like wells, never age or end; the youthful profundity of that searching glance.

I received and beheld an inescapable mysterium, a humanity.

“Just the one face,” I replied.

“Yes,” rumbled Douglas, “You’re starting to see the point.”

Put on your space

Put on your space

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**

Gene Keys Golden Path Program
My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

Odyssey & Therapeutic Empathy

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profiles frontispiece

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How do we journey to the Self? We bring together two approaches, which enrich each other. Their creative combination enhances the discovery process.  We need:  A broad data base, a depth-sounder for information.

Image: On a boat we start to make a map of the unseen seabed.

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"This Shows the Way" - Rosicrucean Emblem One

“This Shows the Way” – Rosicrucean Emblem One

That means becoming receptive, and registering what is “picked up”, like a graph or seismic counter: drawing it, or writing the images which come first to mind.   Gradually these join up, and a picture of the sea-bed appears.

The sea-bed represents the subconscious: the boat is the surface consciousness.  We are needing data, in this “unknown”. We seek a personal and social interaction: Commitment.

  “Acts are intentional experiences, not mental activities.
They are either intuitive and full, or signitive and empty.”
Clark Moustakas

The old knowledge: the data we have – persons, situations and opinions – interacts with the NEW.  A starting point for the odyssey is: “What answer am I looking for?”

The fundamental assumption is, “I don’t know”.  In a subatomic interaction, particles collide and the energy of their annihilation emits/creates a new particle or photon.  Similarly, our current knowledge collides with the new picture coming in, releasing  a fresh (experiential) insight. Describe the picture I see as it emerges from Unknown.

An odyssey begins with a desire to know what is not known.

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Jung in his Study

Jung in his Study

“Your unknowing stems from the previous harmlessness of your life, from the peaceful passage of time, and from the absence of the God. But if the God draws near, your essence starts to seethe and the black mud of the depths whirls up.”

The Red Book, C.G.Jung

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Again I find myself empathising Jung’s sorrow for his father’s dutiful unbelief and spiritual sterility. This unhappy pastor father figure was central in Jung’s troubled soul.

mobius one

Empathy is what happens when we start to travel inside.   Empathy is this figure of eight when the personal spheres of healer and wound overlap, and it is voluntary from one side or another. One side VOLunteers a psychic receptivity, and to ask questions which will turn the other’s tap to flow. (The root syllable VOL means the will, the willing.) Or, the VOLunteer is silent, feeling the other.   Whichever – it is interactive. Empathy is interactive, and empathy sparks profound commitment and interest in the subject.

Empathy at its best, awakens in the empathee, that keen, attentive interest for its own sake, and can sometimes deliver him or her – birth.

It is subjective, because VOLunteer and empathee share the subjectivity.   Then it becomes “objective”.  The empathee is not alone now.

murmuration of starlings, gretna green

murmuration of starlings, gretna green

 

The empathee might want to be alone – might find the VOLunteer intrusive – but that is another angle. Generally speaking, genuine compassion does not intrude, and is responded to.   Compassion is a rock in a hard place.   Compassion comes from having been there.

So we have Jung and his patients, seeking the deeper river which heals the soul. And on the journey, the phenomena show up.  “Phenomenon” stems from the Greek phainos, to flare or rise up.  As we receive the phenomena, they turn “Heuristic” – the Self search, or Self-enquiry.   As soon as there is active empathy in the quest, it turns inward (the Greek word Heuristic means to discover or find);  the seeker lets go of his or her self-concern, and begins to IMMERSE – diving into the heart of the matter: a shared textural mystery.

phen heur triad

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This happens through dialogue, and when it happens, the point extends and triangulates the two persons.

Empathy triangles 12 June

When we are mutually empathised, the conversation is FERTILE, with a fluid, moving centre.   When we are truly empathised, we are heard, whether we speak or are silent.  The sensitive topic no longer obstructs. It grows richly humane. When we are empathised, we awake to our holistic Self and are objective.  It is like striking flint to spark and light a fire.   There is trust.

How to feel the way in?  It is difficult, when defensive or on overload, and hanging onto our garments.  It requires an act of creative, positive imagination, to step into the other’s shoes, what is it like to see through those eyes?  In the Gurdjieff work, this is called “external considering” and it is radical.  “Internal considering“, on the other hand, is when we go on fantasising about what the other person might think or do.   (See Maurice Nicoll’s Commentaries.)

Empathy triangles 2 12 June_0001

When we are empathised, trust flows, where mistrust was walled up.  Drink from the full bucket the rainbow waters of the deep well with far horizons.   Drink together from it.

Trust opens shell when the spark is struck – the CONNECTION.   The CONNECTION happens when the essence of the empathee begins to flow, to flower forth.   The connection happens when the empathee feels safe enough to “come out”.   It happens in creative art, poetry and portraiture, and it happens in dialogue, therapy and friendship.   It happens between lovers.  The connection is a subconscious cognition of “the bigger picture”.  Until connection happens, language is wooden.   When connection opens, language is infinitely vibrant and versatile.   Language opens the box, laughs and cries out loud, and lives.

d.harding be as you are 2

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Life resurrects.   It is like Isis resurrecting Osiris.   These great Archetypes refer to simple items in human exchange, from despair to hope.

Raising a Captive Knight

Traumatised persons have wooden tongues, and their heart is locked. We cannot tell, when we are locked in pain. Only a few persons are able to tell the truth of their trauma, while it still smashes their soul.

(I know someone who could, and did.   So remember … What is this doing to me now?   Some “involuntary” surfacing of the anguish. It is a memory, and it informs my NOW. Let it rise, be heard, and fall. A feeling. It is known well, and need not dwell on it. It passes.   See what it transforms to, and smile.   Smile with it, COMPLETELY.   Reach into the past pile of compost, touch it, smile again with the ch’i, it clears its nature.   Did we not feel, way back then, the brightening future sky – the help, the wisdom coming from “there”, which is HERE? )

“Heuristic” – phonetically – is the quest into HERE.

All quests when they go deep enough, turn transpersonal. The individual shrinks rapidly into the speed of light crescendo.   There is an old Einstein diagram of this/can’t find it, but here is one:

page from Einstein's Zurich notebook

page from Einstein’s Zurich notebook

On telling the truth of our trauma: as those who work with victims of abuse, torture and political extremism know well – it takes time and much patience, to be there, and encourage the traumatised one to begin to speak their nightmare … perhaps by using paints and pens and clay, perhaps by being in a circle, or in a friendship, or helping someone else; perhaps by the victim spelling into a poem, what happened.

Being able at last to write it down, and see it on the page, brings an unexpected relief and courage in the blood.   And again.   And again, and again …

pelican & phoenix, A.Roob

What is the relief?   Connection with wider humanity.   Expansion of the psyche.   The life it brings to the pulse, is extraordinary.

Rage converts to courage.   Conversation is conversion.

Sacrifice means to make holy.
Do not allow the Nefesh in you to dominate.
You do not kill it.
It is what you surrender to the Creator.

The Nefesh is tempered along the vine, for the grapes to swell.

Einstein on bike after “fixing it”

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**

My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

A Tale from the Watershed: Birds Nest Epoche

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From "A Way of Life" by Jim Ede

From “A Way of Life” by Jim Ede

Watershed Dreams No.88 – May 1975

A pair of swallows or starlings were in the room mating and looking instinctively for material with which to build a nest.  They seemed to clutch at straws.  I helped them by providing a little pile of grass which I put on the table.  In this way I neglected the people who were with me also in the room, but I was very concerned for the birds, that they should be able to perform their spring functions which they longed so much to do.  Even so, my ‘help’ went only a very little way.  The odds for their breeding and survival were against them, so I was their deceiver. 

They built a nest with whatever they could find, quite desperately. 

I showed this nest to the people I was with in the room.  “Look how round it is getting,” I said. “Look at the inter-weaving of all its strands, as if they were building out of doors in the branch of a tree.  How powerful the instinct is, even when it doesn’t have the right material.”

tree egg '94 j&d11

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This short dream-story is of the series of Watershed Tales in this blog.  You can find others under Categories or Search.  It is about an old Karmically interwoven relationship which failed.

Yet it seems I was not the birds’ deceiver.  Many years later – that same nest is alive and well.  It transformed to a new relationship with life, alive with hope.   Like many young dreams, this one was full of opposite futures and double-entendre.

leprecaun, struggle & egg

My future advises my past.   I felt this, long ago.   She continues to – miraculous and immense.   Time is no time. Life is unlabelled.   Dipping into a study book on Phenomenological Research methods, I found Clark Moustakas’ “Epoche”.

This is interesting, and on cue.   It seems to be what I always aimed towards. “The world … has been cleared of ordinary thought and is present before us as a phenomenon to be gazed upon, to be known naively and freshly through a ‘purified’ consciousness.”

Each morning here, for instance, I trawl my ordinary thoughts of the day before, until the inner Eye lights up and reveals their transmutation: shining fishes.

Hermes with fishing net hauls up old memories and pelican flasks

Hermes with fishing net hauls up old memories and pelican flasks (1989)

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The way of the Alchemist is so. I feel around me softly, the Tetrahedral triads and lines from Nesting Tetrahedrons and The Djinn, as blessing.   However, who am I?

The ultimate Epoche is Self enquiry.   Discussing Epoche, Moustakas (author) goes into (recognisably) Buddhist and Vedanta method without naming so.   He is an academic but (discreetly) on a genuine spiritual path.   Good to tumble on this merger.

Do I cling to Kabbalist Lineage and its identity?   Why?

Empathy triangles

Empathy triangles

 

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I have existential value and truth with Lineage. It is Saturn tempering Mars. It is an ancient skeleton holding a vital heartbeat.   It names and connects the wings of life, and shows me  to ride my bike safely and to live beyond constraint.   It is a Nest woven of all the Traditional twigs in love-knots, placed by the beak of the alighting bird, each a lifetime. But inside it are the unknown cosmic eggs.   The Nest allows the Egg to form and warm.

The paradox is – knowledge of the Traditions with my Un-named Epoche.   The Traditions and This.   The Mother and the quantum chick.   The egg shape solar system: above, below.

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The birds tried to build a nest in an unsuitable place: their doomed love and urgency.  The nesting image is strong today, with the Quark eggs in it – a revolution of all traditions and their hens.   The Light of the World, tender and subtle, throws off dark garments.

pigeons early spring 2

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Jung at about the time he met Idzubar

The Red book
“Man stands between emptiness and fullness. If his strength combines with fullness, it becomes fully formative. There is always something good about such formation. If his strength combines with emptiness, it has a dissolving and destructive effect, since emptiness can never be formed, but only strives to satisfy itself at the cost of fullness. Combined thus, human force turns emptiness into evil.

“If your force shapes fullness, it does so because of its association with fullness. But to ensure that your formation continues to exist, it must remain tied to your strength. Through constant shaping you gradually lose your force, since ultimately all force is associated with the shapeliness that has been given form. Ultimately where you mistakenly imagine that you are rich, you have actually become poor, and you stand amidst your forms like a beggar.

“That is when the blinded man is seized by an increasing desire to give shape to things, since he believes that manifold increased formation will satisfy his desire.   Because he has spent his force, he becomes desirous: he begins to compel others into his service, and takes their force to pursue his own designs.”

C.G.Jung

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There!   Isn’t that what happens with spiritual charisma and inflation?   Materialism … the culture of consumers?

But what is strength? Strength is before formation.

Paths of awakening, and the pillars

Paths of awakening, and the pillars

Jung’s statement above is Kabbalist: Solomon’s pillar of force before formation, in the Tao of Tifareth – soul triad – strength.   This is a kind of labelling, but no more so than musical notes which strike resonances or the song of birds.   It doesn’t pin down the Bird.

Ahhh the phoenix.   So vast an archetype!

phoenix copy from master r

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The culture of consumers threatens the eco system and cliff-hangs the human race.   Even so, I have this deep feeling that it is ephemeral, it is tinsel vulgar, our consciousness suffers to saturation, the juggernaut imbalance.   In years, decades to come, the acute emergency leaves the general landscape but little changed; Gaia prevails.   There are perhaps rougher weather conditions and leaner economies.   Do I remain in the human trough, or do I see over its rim, into the field?

Jacobs ladder - four dovetailed worlds

Jacobs ladder – four dovetailed worlds

The human tapestry is itself, inescapable.   I share a wide angle Kabbalist view, across centuries.   Only the bottom end of Jacobs ladder is generally visible where it rests on Assiyah – the product of the 4 Worlds: the temporary friction and weight of those stepping onto it; their civil wars and disputes and abuse and poverty and grabbings and luxury basements.

But, I once dreamed – (in early Tarot days, about the Emperor) – I saw snow-waters pouring down the sheer mountain face, the great peal of the waters, and humans climbing up it, up and up, fading into the mist … always.

The dimensions veil each other.

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Alpenspitz - a great raw rock mountain in Bavaria

Alpenspitz – a great raw rock mountain in Bavaria

So now. How to live and think and be, as Epoche?

I sat and looked in the dark well water. Phone rang at once – my mother. She is almost 90 – a Leo-Aries. I saw her garden, the flowers at Kilve in Somerset, her sore legs, Edinburgh and everywhere she is, and has been – long natter.

Live inclusively. Open unconditioned to what comes naturally.  Like this …  on Jordan Lake with the bald Eagle – Spirit – circling with its cries (watch the video clip!), and Teala’s little son replying.   Borrow strength!

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granite egg flower

granite egg flower

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A History of the Golden Seed

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Lily of the field, and tower of alchemy

Lily of the field, and tower of alchemy

This post is a concluding chapter from the book “Manishya – On Being Human” which my friend Actaeon and I wrote and illustrated together, a few years ago.

I like to see Kabbalah and Alchemy in the historical context because – for any whose interest it quickens – it is your/our history, the recurrent surfacing of our threads of life in the broad human tapestry.

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Crossroads: The Mandala of the Star, Cross and Crescent

Star Cross Crescent with Omkara of the east

Star Cross Crescent with Omkara of the east

SOME HISTORICAL CROSSINGS OF THE GOLDEN SEED

OUR THEME includes Christ’s parable of the Talents, any talent or potential in Reality.

In the New Testament story, (Luke, 19) three stewards were given each a talent or treasure to look after while the King was away. The first one invested his, and with it made ten more; the King on his return, rewarded his trust. The second steward made five talents and was also rewarded, but the third hid his away safely in a piece of cloth. He felt the King was a hard man who took out what he did not put in, and reaped what he had not sown. The King replied, “Take his one talent from him and give it to the one who has ten.”

In other words, the Talent is the sowing and harvesting of a golden seed. From the golden seed we grow our White Roses of forgiveness and vitality. We dare to be wise, to know, and to create.

profiles welcome across time

profiles welcome across time

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In 2014, we don’t have to be tourists to enter our own sacred space and bring heaven to earth down the lightning-flash.

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The Knights Templar were lightning-conductors. They opened a road for the pilgrim between light and darkness. Their art transforms night into light, and in their cathedrals the Christ was uncrucified, like risen bread.

But their Order was powerful, and was feared and destroyed by the Church, though their buildings of the sanctuary still stand. A century after Chartres, the last of the Knights were hunted down by a pair of popes, and burned alive. The popes survived them by barely a year. Then the plagues attacked the body and fabric of genetics, society and politics, fracturing and fragmenting space and time. There was a charnal, collective shock in medieval Europe. From this compost grave, a flower of Renaissance would arise.

Botticelli’s Aphrodite on the wave, a body of light, is beautiful to touch and see.

Aphrodite, after Botticelli (1992)

Aphrodite, after Botticelli (1992)

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We can trace the Talent or seed potential through history, as the Tree of Life was nurtured in the collective unconscious.

Concurrently with the Cathedral builders, during the 11th and 12th centuries in Spain, a flowering of culture occurred as Jew, Moslem and Christian lived in harmony with one another. These communities expressed freely their traditions, which developed through the teachings of the Tree. A great Jewish teacher called Nachmanides of Cordoba consolidated the ancient Tradition. It seems that the working model of the Tree with its Ten sefiroth and Twenty-two paths emerged during this period. It was reformulated from the Biblical Merkabah (Chariot) of Ezekiel’s vision, which had been conserved in the visionary vessels of the Essenes.

The Jewish people had historically been so scattered – some felt that in order for the Tradition to survive, what had always been taught verbally should now be written down. The form we have today is the ‘Kabbalah’: ‘to receive‘ in Hebrew. ‘Qaba-Allah’: ‘the house of God‘ in Arabic.

Sacred geometry - lily and rose

Sacred geometry – lily and rose

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By 1492 the ‘golden gathering together’ ended, as the Christians dominated Spain; the Jews and the Moslems were persecuted and thrown out of the country.

The Spanish Inquisition almost annihilated the inner knowledge, wiping out the mystical aspects of Christianity and its connections to its Judaic roots and Moslem brothers and sisters. Some who survived accepted token conversion to Christianity, in order to continue working where their roots were.

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Eight path Tifareth mandala:  Part the waves, kiss the lips, turn the wheel, fingers touch numbers on the clock, enter the cave, find the jewel, and climb the mountain through the rainbow.

Eight path Tifareth mandala: Part the waves, kiss the lips, turn the wheel, fingers touch numbers on the clock, enter the cave, find the jewel, and climb the mountain through the rainbow.

The Tradition was taken to the Medici courts of Florence; Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael were possible receivers of the knowledge. The Renaissance expanded this golden seed throughout the Arts and Sciences.

The Tree inspired creative work but remained secret in the background, from fear of persecution and the Inquisition.   The golden seed and its alchemical symbolism found its way into the “Primaveras” and stone work of the great Italians.

Hermes (1992)

Hermes (1992)

After the expulsion of the Jews from Spain a revival of the Tradition took place in Safed in Northern Israel. Associated with this, are the names Moses Cordovero and Isaac Luria.

Some groups of Jews were welcomed by other European Jewish communities. The city of Thessalonika, in northern Greece, was under the rule of the Ottomam empire. Commenting that “Ferdinand of Spain was a fool for exiling the Jewish population”, the Sultan celebrated the culture of this displaced people who enriched his city. From this Jewish community emerged many healers and doctors who practised their art in the Sultans’ Courts.

The Sephardic Jews continued to live in Thessalonika until many centuries later, when they were decimated by the Nazi persecutions in 1942.

Solomon's Cube, rosicrucean Emblem 6

Solomon’s Cube, rosicrucean Emblem 6

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Dhjabir Ibn Hayyon

Alchemy also became linked to the Teachings, with Moslems particularly adept in this science. Through the stimulus of Dhjabir Ibn Hayyon of Baghdad a scientific School arose. The Moors brought the alchemical chemistry to Europe. An English monk in 1144, Robert of Chester, translated works on alchemy, from the Arabic.

The conditions for this work were solitude, silence, patience, perseverence and discretion.

Alchemy became a part of the inner tradition. One exponent was Nostradamus whose prophetic writings reverberate through time; one of his later prophecies being:

“The two great masters will be friends, their great powers will be increased.
The Sun and Eagle will appear to be victorious.
Peace prosecuted by death, it shall be achieved.
In one night the Tree that has been long dead and withered shall grow green again.
After this war which would have lasted for a good while,
there shall be a renewed reign of Saturn and a Golden Age.
Here shall begin an age of Universal Peace – a Peace of 1000 years.”

This prophecy relates to the nature of the Tree; when it is seen and practiced as part of the living spiritual tradition, the feminine aspects of Binah (Saturn) will revive, and a Golden Age will flourish once more.

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Chevalier Inconnu (1992)

Chevalier Inconnu (1992)

In the 15th and 16th centuries, esoteric societies emerged through the Rosy Cross. They developed the Tradition from the root Sefira of the Tree, Malkuth. The aim was to square the circle and build heaven on earth: to balance the four elements alchemically: and to guard the Tree as a living symbol.

The early Rosicruceans, with a mystical connection to the Christ, developed discreetly in France, Germany and England. They offered a Utopia – a Hermetic alignment for scientists, intellectuals, artists and philosophers. Rene Descartes, Robert Boyle, Thomas Haydon and Thomas Vaughan all became exponents of the Rosicrucean Tradition. Elizabethan England witnessed a flowering of literature and plays. Francis Bacon, Shakespeare and Robert Flood were the main distributors of Hermetic knowledge. Further schools developed in England influencing Sir Isaac Newton, Christopher Wren and William Blake. During this period, writers such as John Bunyan in Pilgrims Progress and John Milton in Paradise Lost repeated the theme of the spiritual journey: our descent and ascent of the Tree of life paths, towards symbolic discovery of the eternal city.

In Blake’s hymn Jerusalem, the second verse resonates symbolically the journey of the ascent through the Sefiroth and paths to Kether:        

“Bring me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire

Bring me my spear of clouds unfold

Bring me my chariot of fire.

I will not cease from mental fight

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand

Till we have built Jerusalem

In England’s green and pleasant land.”
 

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Mystics who travelled the pathways of the “Kabbalah” were known as the Merkabah riders, those who drive the chariot or vehicle to ascend to the upper worlds.

There are very interesting parallels around the Sufi teachings of Mevlana and the Mevlevis, the whirling Dervishes. The turning practice called Mukableh means “coming face to face” – an encounter with the self and God.

Dervish

Dervish

The two words Merkabah and Mukableh have a resonance. The Merkabah riders have the same intention of coming face to face with God through the Tree.

The golden seed, an alchemical symbol, is perceived and cultivated in the pineal centre through yoga which means “Union”. The golden seed becomes an irresistible focus, aligning the Worlds and the centuries. It grows among groups and circles of friends in the transmission, and tends to avoid publicity and large crowds.

aleph

From the fifteenth-century Renaissance culture in Europe, the cult of the individual Master took root, as the fair art of Perspective opened up.   Then the Baroque broke forth. With the loss of innocence, and focus upon sensational artistic effects, the Talent became vain. Dazzling rococo and gilt surfaces, devoid of symbol or meaning, decayed into pure decoration. Power and clarity were lost behind the fig leaf -whose guilt obscured original innocence.

In the seventeenth century, the same Talent branching into physical sciences, became an urgent quest for all roads of history to meet and rediscover wisdom.

At this crossroads, the golden seed was nurtured by a regenerated Rose Cross Fraternity in Germany, and by the masonic founding fathers of America. “Our strong child” was announced in European pamphlets such as the Fama Fraternitatis, which satyrised religious intolerance, superstition and charlatans.

aleph doodle

aleph doodle

Telescoping the stars to earth, the New Astronomy straddled the sixteenth and seventeeth centuries with the soul’s need to re-define, verify the motions, and share the result with colleagues. A scientific community was born, inheriting from Pythagorus and from the early Renaissance a hidden truth: the Discovery always transcends – is greater than – any individual who discovers.

Discovery 1963 - painted at school

Discovery 1963 – painted at school

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Subsequently, the Talent became channeled into a narrow band of Reason by rationalists and cynics, who “wrapped it up in a cloth”. From that confined place emerge the birth pangs of today – a multicultural crossroads, a rapidly changing global matrix. The Talent is a young bird sitting on a quantum nest of probable parables, crying “Quark!”

The shadows and distortions we experience, seem to be cast onto the screen of our life by a greater Light emerging behind them: “I am a hidden treasure, and I seek to be known.”

Our Journey into the Tree of Life, at any age or era, enquires into the soul’s origins, and with awe receives the Greater mystery – the golden Conscious seed.   As we walk forth into the coming day, we may recognise and welcome these histories daily, as our own; for we are humanity.   We have seen and been it all.

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Part Two – the Present

See also my earlier post “Alchemy and Self-enquiry“.

Ez haim tree of life, with three granthis

Ez haim tree of life, with three granthi..

Journeying into the Tree of Life  – THE GRANTHI KNOTS

THE KNIGHT (male) journeys through the mandala of the Rose (female). The Knight and the Rose symbolise our learning process from childhood. The task of the child throughout life, is to reconcile and honour his or her parents – the incarnation’s archway whose horizons expand. They, the right and left pillars of the Tree of Solomon, stand south and north. I journey through their portal, travelling from the west to the rising sun.

This is a quadriform Key to life:

“All experience is an arch where thro’
gleams that untravell’d world
whose margin fades
for ever and for ever, as I move … “
                                                                                                         Alfred Lord Tennyson

In our shadow are rigidities of beliefs and indoctrination which devour their own tail, and become a closed circuit of births or reactive patterns of behaviour.

Arcanum 12

Arcanum 12

In alchemy, the arrow’s flight is put into reverse, and flies “upside down” into the heart of Dante’s Rose of paradise. Our attachments to “life-and-death” matters begin to drop away of their own accord. They fall out of the pockets of that powerful tarot symbol, the Hanging Man – the path of MEM, the Waters of Life. Diving into the unconscious, he smiles as he performs a cosmic headstand, treads the starry firmament, and is born again – as dew from heaven.

The personal becomes transpersonal, moving deeper into the Tree.
We reach our own interior crossroads,
where the granthi of our genetic, karmic and mental tendencies are knotted.

Kundalini Tree

Kundalini Tree

In Indian Yogic culture which parallels the Tree of Life, the granthis correspond to the solar plexus, the throat, and third-eye centres. Kundalini – the Shekhinah/Shakti – has to break through these knots in the course of her journey up the spine, and free their energy potential. The first is sometimes called the knot of Brahma (creator), the second that of Vishnu (sustainer), the third that of Rudra (destroyer).

Human consciousness reaches union with its own true Self, through these three states.

The first concerns personality, ancestral and genetic codes (ahamkara).

The second addresses issues still deeply engraved in the Soul Law
from previous lives, which await resolution (buddhi and ahamkara).

At the third, (beyond chit and manas, the mind) time and space dissolve, and grace prevails.

These points of tension or conflict, seek resolution. In the Tree’s Lower Face, the cutting of the first granthi of Yesod to Tifareth, across the “Red Sea” path of Hod and Netzach, frees our spiritual heart, Tifareth, from ancestral ties which bind. After we have lived along the paths forming the Soul cup, we start to understand the nature of our second granthi, – the intersection of Tifareth centre pillar with the horizontal Path of Strength – Gevurah and Hesed. Unravelling this knot, where very deep Karmic issues adhere, releases a potential to receive the Cup of divine grace: Tifareth, Binah, Hokhmah.

Conditioned tensions in the Tree’s Lower Face melt away, as our centre of gravity shifts to the heart; to cross the Abyss “beneath the Angels’ Wings”. The great Wings of Archangel Mikael open from between the shoulder blades. “As children we shall re-enter the mystery of our Heavenly Mother and Father” .

O Angel - 1988

O Angel – 1988

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The Soul Law  
THE INCARNATIONS of the soul are a journey to expand consciousness, truth and love – through conflict towards harmony. This is what unconditional love ultimately embraces and contains. At the second granthi, we break the deeply ingrained Soul patterns of victim, persecutor, rescuer. These obscured consciousness (Tifareth), truth (Gevurah) and love (Hesed). They lay embedded for lifetimes to resolve.

Gevurah and Hesed in the Soul triad, are the feminine and masculine pillars of our individual soul Law. The soul Law is reflected in the parental Hod and Netzach to which it gravitates for an incarnatory purpose, seeking resolution. And so, appropriating a bundle of soul memory, the personal “I” – Yesod – takes shape. The soul Law breathes into our ear a Word – the essence of why we have incarnated this lifetime.

Kundalini shakti, 1988

Kundalini shakti, 1988

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As we are born again and pick up this live vibration, we acknowledge in ourselves, our parents, their genetic framework, their gift to us however arduous, and our way of discovery through it.   If you rest against a tall beech or oak in the woods, you can listen to the Word: the golden core within. Then you may intuit how time’s ancestral concentric rings in the wood are a plane which crosses the Tree’s height, root and breadth.   These are layers of the onion.   Let us reach the core of our soul Law “that I am“.

This Reality moves and flowers through all our seemingly separate births, linking and drawing them together by soul osmosis.   Osmosis is the law of growth. Moisture and nitrates in the ground are drawn up through the roots as sap, towards the Sun. The sap rises through the cell membranes. As nature abhors a vaccuum, each cell as it empties, draws nourishment up into itself. This is Ascension. In the branches and leaves it photosynthesises with light, and releases life-giving oxygen.

Alchemy calls this ‘the green dragon’; a sensitive extra-terrestrial onlooker may witness the flow of renewed life over the continents, as a quiver of springtime’s emerald ray. Thus, the soul’s release into Spirit from Tifareth, begins to nourish humanity.                      

TOWARDS DAAT
Bearing rather than scatter the seed
whose fire liberates us,

we are the glowing lamp the Hermit holds.

We are the honey of the melting snows.

9 hermit - Version 4

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A YANTRA or sacred circle is a mandala across the stem of soul Law’s osmosis. We practice techniques such as yoga, breath work, meditation, astrology, astrocartography, déja vue, dream exploration and reincarnation regression. We enquire into our own soul Law, what it may be.

Path-working on the Tree of Life awakens the soul’s osmosis and cellular memory. Some of the jigsaw pieces fall into place. As we begin to map some coastlines of the vast interior continent, we gain compassionate access to “that untravell’d world”.

pentacle, after E.Levi

pentacle, after E.Levi

Squaring the Circle:  A Yoga

CONFLICT SEEKS resolution. (See illustration below – “Mandala of the Mind’s four aspects”).  Like integrating the Circle with the ellipse, we may “square our own Circle.”

squaring the circle, old illustration

squaring the circle, old illustration

There are procedures in sacred geometry for this, but in brief, we square our Circle by drawing together mind and heart organically as one, and regulating the breath. This vibrates the vagus nerve. Mind focused in the third eye centre flares like a cobra’s hood and comes to a point. It bows and dives inward. The mind immersed in the heart transcends time and space, and is the key to the opening.

Even when we know we have the key, we cannot always use it; for it comes to the hand of interior peace. By surrendering to the law of gravity which is love, we are usually guided to our roots. The deeper and higher and wider we trust and are transparent, while remaining focused in the heart centre, the simpler the opening way becomes.

Uniting Force to Formation, the Circle is squared when she becomes a garden, a landscape, an organic view of earth from within. She is seeded by Hokhmah through the door of the Queen of Nature – (the Hebrew letter for this, is DALETh).

She as Time – Binah – gives birth to Space at Hesed, over ‘the quantum abyss’ of DAAT.   As in the Emerald Table of Hermes Trismegistus:

“The father is the sun, the mother the moon.
The being is carried in the belly of the wind
and the earth is its nurse.
It is the seed of all beauty throughout the universe.
The power of it is realised when it is reduced to earth.”

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Manas Mandala

Manas Mandala of the Mind’s Four Aspects (2004)

On the Mandala of the Mind

OUR THOUGHT constructs formulate our consciousness. In Indian Yoga, the mind is divided into consciousness (the seer, the observer, Chit) then all the many thoughts we have (Manas). Then the choice, the discrimination to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ (Buddhi). Finally, the accumulation of conditioned memory, ego, survival concepts and belief structures (Ahankara).

unknown_crystal_animals_figurines_buddha_P0000305736S0092T2

If we only identify to thought in its possessive context – my work, my art, my child, my thoughts with the comparisons that this is mine, this is yours, then these thoughts will cause fragmentation and separation in time. A division occurs between the internal and the external. For what is in the present is all that can be known.

The same fracture is caused by religious beliefs. If I say ‘I am Moslem and you are a Christian”, then your beliefs and mine cause fragmentation and separation in the identification.  When we empty the mind of thought, we are undivided.

sukhthai rock crysal buddha, 15th century

sukhthai rock crysal buddha, 15th century

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The “I” as sacred space takes us beyond time. In this space – the trust and transparency of the Crystal Buddha – all is Holy:  all is compassion. A wise mind remains still. Time equals thought. Space is empty for the fullness. See what it is, then Be. As thinking comes to an end, we are free to love.

When freedom is not bound by thought, then that freeing is absolute. When the mind is still, that is the ending of time.

“The rest is silence.”

Hamsa Great Swan - jnana (wisdom) floats on bhakti (dedication)

Hamsa Great Swan – jnana (wisdom) floats on bhakti (dedication)

How will God come today?
God came today only to be gone tomorrow
but what is in the heart of God
is also in mine

so God and I 
are eternally One

P.T.

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My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

 

The Desert Rose

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Hermit, Arcanum 9

Hermit, Arcanum 9

What is the desert? the innate way of unfoldment: truth.

In the Red Book, Jung journeyed and wrote: “Walking around in a circle I happen to return to myself and to him, the solitary one, who lives down in the depths hidden from the light, held securely by the warm bosom of the rock, above him the glowing desert and sharp resplendent skies.

“The solitary lives in endless desert full of awesome beauty. He looks at the whole and at inner meaning. He loathes manifold diversity if it is near him. He looks at it from afar in its totality. Consequently silvery splendour and joy and beauty cloak diversity for him. What is near him must be simple and innocent, since close at hand the manifold and complicated tear and break through the silvery splendour.”

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There follows a long poem with expanded script, in which the magid, Philemon or Ammonius Sacca speaks:  (see italics)

“The sun and its glow nourish him … the solitary loves the desert above all since it is a mother to him, giving him food and invigorating warmth at regular intervals.”

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desert rose socotra/moffett/nationalgeographic.com

desert rose socotra/moffett/nationalgeographic.com

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Thus also the interior sun of the soul.   I have mist on my window. I am dull this morning, and out of relationship.   I have nothing and am uneasy with what I have.   Yet I know it is condensation on the window, which blurs life, and the sun – Great SOLomon – will clear it as he rises. The creatures and the histories of the soul wake up slowly, and give the prospect some positive meaning.   The soul is a full engagement with everything.   I think this defines the soul.   With the waking up there is a deepening of the mirage, and some change of key.

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Geode: "A Way of Life" by jim Ede

Geode: “A Way of Life” by jim Ede

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The thin Hermit in his hut with his book and the heat, wanders in an orchard of lush fruit and flowers, all reaching for his hand, his breath. He engages with the desert.   “Fragrant resins drip from his trees, and under his feet, thrusting seed breaks open.

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I engage with North London. It is the poetry of life in whatever medium.  Sometimes the poet over-reaches, fantasises and falters. The poet has an ethical task, to remain where it is real, and to question every surplus.   The poet has an ethical task: to not invent.   Invention turns to mist on the window.

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desert roses by Alayn 1807, trekearth.com

desert roses by Alayn 1807, trekearth.com

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I think for human default mode generally, “the horror of the desert and its withered evaporation …” permeates the conventional stress of livelihood, entertainment and mortgage.   For the hermit in the Libyan desert or in North London … “he stammers when he speaks of the indescribable fullness, his eye rests on the garden, his ears listen to the source, his breath draws in sweet perfume from blossom rich trees.” …

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I see the hermit in the midday sun, in the deep shade of his tent or hut, with book and abundance: the ferocity of the dry heat, the ringing silence, his parched limbs, the rustlings.   I see human security which seeks above all else to cover my head with a roof and a story.   The stories in our souls are read to us at bedtime, to keep us covered and safe.   The hermit falls into a place where he cannot write any story at all; there is no room for it.   The sea in my face is a desert.   From the desert all things come.   In the desert is the well, and the camel drinks.

There are many sounds in the desert – of the soft mother, the wind; and of cracked insects and darting lizards.   There is the endless sound of space. This is the fruit the Hermit hears.   HERE.

Hear it through the trains, the passing cars, the songbirds in the budding trees. All of London is the sound in this corner of it which is silence: this window on which a Rune is drawn in the dew: my body’s unending kiss with gravity.

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Gaudier's Dancer - in 'A Way of Life' by Jim Ede

Gaudier’s Dancer – in ‘A Way of Life’ by Jim Ede

Are not lovers the gravity with each other? Is not the Hermit the gravity with God?   In this mode the thought with the beloved is gravity.   The Hermit’s daily dawn footprints through the silver dunes are blowing in the wind.   Their edges soften, but he walks some more, and again next day.   There is always the trace of his passing, and the wanderer finds it, follows the thread to the web’s gossamer centre, follows the Sun’s rays inwards, becomes still and is blessed.   The Question is left open.   The wanderer abandons the answer he or she seeks.

sun1b

“He gives you a small insignificant fruit, which has just fallen at his feet. It appears worthless to you, but if you consider it, you will see that this fruit tastes like a sun which you could not have dreamt of. It gives off a perfume which confuses your senses and makes you dream of rose gardens and sweet wine and whispering palm trees. And you hold this one fruit in your hand dreaming, and you would like the tree from which it grows, the garden in which this tree stands, and the sun which brought forth this garden …

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Adam & Eve detail

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“And you yourself want to be that solitary who strolls with the sun in his garden, his gaze resting on pendant flowers, and his hand brushing a hundred fold of grain and his breath drinking the perfume from a thousand roses.

“Dull from the sun and drunk from fermenting wines, you lie down in ancient graves, whose walls resound with many voices and many colours of a thousand solar years.

“When you grow, then you see everything living again as it was. And when you sleep, you rest, like everything that was, and your dreams echo softly again from distant temple chants.

“You sleep down through the thousand solar years, and you wake up through the thousand solar years, and your dreams full of ancient lore adorn the walls of your bedchamber. You also see yourself in the totality.”

C.G.Jung, The Red Book

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poppy pod in drinking-glass - from "A Way of Life" by Jim Ede

poppy pod in drinking-glass – from “A Way of Life” by Jim Ede

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**

My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

 

Love Letters with a Dancing Yeti

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kevsyeti col

This wild shaggy creature fills me with joy and smiles.

Veteran readers of the Ramana Foundation journal Self Enquiry (1993-2004) may recall an exchange of letters from our very own correspondent in Tiruvannamalai.  He reflected on the Guru scene, and took the plunge himself.   Nowadays, tucked up in a delicious French valley – or rather, in the Yeti’s own words (which he prefers): “tucked up ‘n fukked up in his petit coin, suitably located among the desirable caves where his ancestors nibbled their fleas among the shady trees of mittel France”  …  while wintering in India to pedal his astral bike from Arunachala to Alaska – the poet in the Yeti sings.  We just started to write to each other again.

Book of Is

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This might be a Post without an end in sight.

16 January 2014
Dear Kev, just a word to say I loved reading ALL YOUR WORDS for Xmas and to smell India again through your descriptions, and those sadhus and bird noises, and to have a good ketchup with you generally. With much love to you,  Xx Jane

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Thanks Jane, good to hear from ya. Those words were rough and unvarnished as they fell through my head. Rash to dump ’em like that, but communicating sometimes gets huffy and puffy and won’t wait. Your blog is too big for me . Do you have time for owt else? Sometimes I see lovely stuff there, but to try and read it all would be like being the guy who constantly must keep up with the 24 hour surveillance camera. Life throws so much in my face that I can’t offer so much time to the inside of another head, even when it pours out gems. I look forward to a selection of the best, which I can sink into like a warm bath. A lake of dancing fresh water may gladden the eye and soul, but it’s too much to drink and I fear it’ll drown me before I get to the other side or find the bottom. Love from Kev.

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17 January
Don’t let it worry you, Kev.   My stuff might not be your cup of tea;  you poets have your cups full with Life anyway! – as you say.  And I’m glad the Great Teapot in the sky keeps pouring through you its bounteous brew.   Those who settle for bread and butter with my blog find their own bits of jam here and there:  maybe even a Devon cream tea with scones if they are lucky – nobody reads it all, but it is there for a large table.  I’m glad you’ve sunk such rich deep roots in france, and thankful that I don’t have to cope with all them ants in India.  I read about your adventures with them, with awe.  Much love, Jane x

Book of Is 2

Book of IS: Mt Sandford, Alaska.

The poems inside, may step on a banana skin,
then slide, so far, within the deeps,
they meet the stars,
as they examine simple things
from bits that Darwin missed,
to mysteries like why this all exists,
or who, or what, we are.

“This cover blurb is meant to sell the book,
but if you want to check it out,
just step inside, and take a look.”

(“Is” –  by Kevan Myers
published 2009 by Dancing Yeti Books)

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Dear Jane, I ain’t complaining about the flavour of the tea, though must confess the details of the esoteric and symbols can be wasted on me. I love stuff I read when you reflect on this or that, and of course I have enjoyed reflections of your past, particularly where Peter comes up, but my cup runneth over fairly soon when you are pouring from your bottomless jug (s?). I am amazed by your fecundity and glad for you that it is.

When in UK I sometimes buy a saturday or sunday paper to check TV progs, and then “enjoy ” reading the bloody thing for at least the next ten days as the nesting boxes in my brains get filled with tweeting terribly fast. Thus it is very much more volume than content that leaves me peering over the vastnesses of your bloggery like stout Cortes viewing the Pacific. Like I say, I really look forward to the shortish book of selected gems unthreaded from the kilometres of golden chains where they presently dangle, so sparkling …

Much love, Kev

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Dearest Kev, as I canna yet stopper the fall of tea from the sky, I leave it to you to identify and assemble a few concise leaves of best earl grey for your pot, you lazy old poet!   However I am indeed delighted that you do deign to dip toe & wade a little – say from San Francisco bay area to the bridge, you know it is all pacific really – and especially that you have located and read my outpourings about my Pa, which I value.  Never mind about the Hesoterick, just look at the pictures.   The pictures are there for our tired old eyes to rest from all the wordzzz.

Peter now 91 and a little frail, has email at last – I hope to see him later this month, braving winter gales along the Tarka Bike Trail to Torrington, and then steep hills up and down to his piggery.   He lives in elegant grandeur in The Old Piggery … (in case your cyberwhotsit breaks down.)  He would love to hear from you, and definitely needs practice with his email/Ipad, and he keeps nice biscuits in his tin.
I am seeing Quince and John next month here in Blighty.   Much love, xJanex

PS we have been having a lot of rain.

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kevsyeti bw

Gawd bless, yer, dear,
I have unloaded Peter’s edress and have good intentions to use it. Just got briefly hassled by Authorhouse, offering to print my wurkz. I took a rain cheque, but should really set them on your trail, since yo wurdz are bustin’ out all over. Are you planning to huff and puff your way to Torrington by bike path? Remember I once did it from the Grey Wen to Land’s Sakes and back, which is fine along canals and suchlike, but once confronted with steep and wiggly Devon lanes, big roads are safer and quicker, because you don’t lose downhill momentum at the bottom by savage wigglies or charging pantechnicons or harvesters suddenly blocking the whole lane.

It’s very gracious of Q and J to touch your feet in salubrious w. Hampstead, but high time you hauled your sorry backside over to see them in the gorgeous part of France where they and I offer such splendid horse-pit-alities, and where I also met your fine mama.
Anyroad, enough of this blether. You could have probably filled at least five pages of blog in the time spent soaking in these worthless sentiments.
Much love
Kev

yeti cover work

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19 January 
I remember your Great Ride, Kev, and when you turned up in your dayglo cycling gear in the rain – my pa thought it was a bloke from Mars selling spin-driers, and nearly shut the door.  

The trouble with canals and nice flat trails, is the winter monsoon mud in those parts.  To avoid this,  I shall have to turn off from the Puffing Billy at Torrington into steep cow-patted lanes; and  huff up and down the wigglies amid splatter from tractors, till I reach the noble abode, hopefully before dark, & in time for tea & scotch.

Now I have a proposal for thy wurdz and mine, Kev: How about, I create a post for them, in the calm clear waters of me bloggery, like we did those years ago in SE.  It may burble along quietly for as long as it likes, ever deepening the single post which stands by itself in the reflecting lake, O Sake, until we are distracted and fade away elsewhere, like sweet birds run out of twitter.   

Do you agree?  I would add a few snaps from the album of happy times, and a verse or two of yourn.   I think I have a photo of you dancing, on that memorable night in Dorset.  I can’t wait for your venerable observations, you chattersome Gemini.   Love fr jane

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www.panoramio.com, by pedro point

http://www.panoramio.com, by pedro point

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19 January
Into my morning space, haunted by squirmy gut, drops intrIguing offer. Most kind suggestion calls for response from this laziest of beings, when it comes to manufacture and broadcast of his emanations. I am most honoured to be thus prodded, and can happily supply you with wurkz old and new, as well as appropriate snaps, of which I posses many, so there be no need to drag forth fotos of bizarre blackmajickry under the greenwood trees of Hardy’s backyard, most particularly since I got no memory at all, of any such prancings among the yokelry.

But to be simple I dinna comprehend the meaning of this here “post” thing you proposeth, though I vizzalyze it well casting its long reflexion over your pool and impeding the crystal currents with its squat nether region. Yea I’m sure I agree, with gratitude and brass knobs on, but need a deeper understanding of how this post is approached, how it will look, and what it demands of me.

As you perceive my observations are hardly venerable yet, as my parts are presently pure, but given time they may acquire the necessary vintage and putrefact desirably.

Which brings to mind the announcement this day received that The Bard is about to imprint the holy dust of my neighbourhood with his esteeming presence, so I shall be dragged forth to receive his lofty Darshan, as he towers like some giant, scrawny monkey puzzle , eclipsing the diminutive form of the holy hill`.

Ah me! Oh yea, and the muddy lanes of Devon will no doubt “ooo arrr” as your comely person huffs with astonishing puffs between its unending hedges as combine harvesters bare their teeth and lurk round every corner, while Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all, lurch their way down the steepest, bestest bit for gathering momentum, linking arms with jugs in hand and flying smocks, as the sheep stare.
Kev

O yes, you old Kevvery - don't you remember this?

O yes, you old Kevvery – don’t you remember this?   That’s yo’ face yeti dancing.

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20 January
Esteemed Colleague,

Delighted about your spiritual exercises by the Holy Hill – along with the squitters, a healthy antidote to chomping on the Lotus in fair France, which was bound to bind you up.

Now Kev, here is what I have in mind.  A Post in a blog is simply an entry – the day’s musings or landfill – whatever.   But of course it can go on and on being added to:  for a Post is an ever lengthening scroll to the deep, an unbottomed and never ending Mystory.

Here is what I have in mind for me and ‘ee:  to offset the rather Serious atmosphere of me Pacific Posts, methought to plant a Merrie one, to cheerieup my patient Readers.  And I thought this post might be your and my plain wurdz back and forth, just as they are, beginning last week, and continuing:  coz I double over with joy at yours.   Each new item gets added to the bottom, dives deeper into the lake, needs just a finger-flick-fone for the curious to scroll it all …

We might get tired of it, or if it gets rather long, create its very own be-a-blog, which we both access from each side of La Manche, and put pictures in.  You might take the project over completely, and make it bristle with verse… That is up to u.  You might come to your senses and publish, you slothful scribe.

sailboat logbook

You asked I believe, what this yur post will look like, and where will be its squat nether end.  Well vizzilize a big pond, lake or pacific bristling with wind farms – they all are posts.  Here and there a noble ship sails in and out among them, piloted by Magellan or Cortez or a migrating Albatross.  Our little post will extract the michael and mind its own biziniss, and may become a popular port of call, particularly if you include Mr (for gawd) Sake’s observations on the Teaching Scene, while u are in Indiar.

photo by r.nial bradshaw

photo by r.nial bradshaw of posts in salt lake

I attach a draft with a few awful snaps.  I might attempt a passable sketch of a yeti.

Am enchanted that you shall see and be inspired by the Bard so very soon.

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dancing yeti in dorset

dancing yeti in dorset

20 January
Thanks for sending me your sample. I shall study it extensively before conveying it to the lab for professional analysis. How dare you resurrect the nauseating name of Sake, which I never requested though it may have generated some passing amusement among the hissing cauldrons which you shared with the lofty presence, as you popped in livers of pontificating swamis. I am well aware that Self Enquiry may have been scattered with pseudonyms to disguise the authorship of many dubious passages penned by the grey eminences, in an attempt to fool the 30 subscribing miserable seekers of NW3-6 that a plethora of bespectacled academics could be counted among the contributing lunes, but I have so far braved the attention of assassins in never seeking such masks to my reality, beyond the one I have long borne, which carries the much bemyred sobriquet of Kev, and with that I am content. So awa with such as Ma Tarocardananda or the new age Elvish Delvish of the Blackdowns, whom I presently address. Your Jane will never be plain to me. However when it comes to yetis, my fondness for my shaggy leaping hide still warms all the trembly parts of my soul, as I hop skip and polka before the holy hill, so occasional appearances of the.Himalayan bigfoot would not be unwelcome.

As I said I have some excellent snaps and can certainly provide the gorgeous yeti donated by my cartoonist brother.

But I should be amazed if such correspondence raised more than the occasional rarified eyebrow, among the divers necromancers, tea-leaf readers and other exotic fruits from your private tree of life, who must comprise the bulk of your readership, already soaked as they are by your daily voluminous brilliancy.

Thus I am honoured by your offer and pleasured to concur, though noting with displeasure the many typos among my previous offerings.
Love
Kev

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21 January
Dear Kev, I just happen to be up and unable to sleep – moan – but cheered by your twink.  Sake was offered only as a protective hide, but the Yeti’s is much better.  Well then, I await the lab results.  Much love xxx Jane

I go dancing too

I go dancing too

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Self-Inquiring R.I.P.

SE Penultimate issue

“Self Enquiry”, Penultimate issue

It was indeed a day of infamy when that Lady Chatterbox left her lovers and other glitterati of the spiritual universe rubbing their bewildered spectacles as their deluging weeps created a nouveau Saraswati to mingle its rarified tears with the nether reaches of the less salubrious but very Kosher meanderings of the Brent.

O weep and beat your inconsolable teats, all lovers of spiritual passions and other heats, lest we forget her ladyship, unburied yet and due to rise again when her creating organ, the chief necromancer, forsakes her unending beat, that adds each day another set of rings that newly tingalings the wrinkled foreheads of the tree of life.

mandala

mandala

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While Mistress Jane Attempts To Kip

Ah the wee small hours of West Hampstead,
when even the Jubilee Line slumbers,
as it meanders
the passing snores!
Where acres of cemetery
thrust monuments that grope for heavens
high as Whitestone Pond.
While worms sleep gentle sleeps
in many cloistered gardens,
well communally maintained,
beneath the central-heated walls,
well-hung with polished souvenirs,
nudging the heart from half-forgotten
terraces of long ago, before
the robberies inflicted
by more recent times,
that tower high above
the petty wounds
of self-inflicted crimes.

 

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dive spiral arunachala

dive spiral arunachala

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More poetry from Kevan …

Confessional-like

I really have nothing to say.
Been saying it for years,
but nobody hears
a thing

**

Happy Indiscretion

Ah the joy of wurdz,
where nothing makes a universe
and diamonds sprout from turdz.

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mike on a visit from holland

mike  – a very dear friend – on a visit from holland which is FLAT

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As dreams go by …

23 January – From Kevan: “Here attached find yetis …”

I love ‘em.  Those cuddly toys in ye mail.   The Hill must be doing you good (and the wurdz).  So shall I make a post at the weekend?  No hurry, just when you like.   Love, J

Yo, go ahead and carve yer post whenever you have a spare mo, but please check my do-dos for typos afore ye posteth as they can udderwize confyouse. Love Kev

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Dunsbear Halt on the Tarka Line Trail

Dunsbear Halt on the Tarka Line Trail

23 January
Yo, u Neti neti (arunachala generated), Yeti yeti, of course I willeth check yore spellings and notyets, I thought they might be done on purpose, I don’t meddle with Poet’s Purpose except I be given strikt instructions.  I can’t go to Devon Oo-arr this weekend, and indeed not till February, because the railway line from Taunton to Exeter is closed for repairs and the replacement buses don’t take bikes.  Love from Jane

PS Mr Sake is sacked.

alan jacobs and Kev

Alan Jacobs and Kev, in 2004

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24 January
Enough mit these excuses. Who needs train and bus when you could leap on your steed in west End Lane and start pedalling. These Adamses are a muscular lot with mighty shanks, just made for this kinda thing.

As foR typos, me deliberate unspellings are obvious, but typos confuse the head by usually missing a letter, reversing them or inside-outing them as dyslexic affect rather than failing wit-exercise. Would you like me to hi-itify some. Here comes an oldish one now: …

(and so forth.)

cows near buckland filleigh

cows near buckland filleigh

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24 January
Been delving among recent werkz and made some dubious improvements , which might lead you to chooze these newer vershuns, unless you feel advershuns, of coarse!  Kev

kevsyeti bw

 A Trespass On Your Moments

I have undone what I oughter have done
And there is no good in me
Under the sun, but that which has sprung
Out o’ my own unhoed earth.
Do I ask for praises unsung,
Songs to be sung
To commemorate
The strainings of my birth?
Rather I say forget it
Get on with your own undoings;
Love, as you will, your screwing
And unscrewing,
Under the ungod eyes
Of the skies of mirth.

Ah men! That we have become!
Ah, the becoming of the end
Of unbirth!
The dance of life
Pours through the snores
Of the blind-eyed conveyors
Of I-pads on their endless tube run
Into the blank.

May the skies split and run
As the sewn up of everything
Comes undone.
Let’s tear off the hoods
And run.

Kevan Myers

warrior high leg sun

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“Back hoe” that’s a JCB in Yankspeak

 Seems like “Front Hoe”
if there am, should wear
a kinda “Hiyo Silva” ‘n cut
this backward crap
cos hoeing up your backdays
seems to me to be
a little short on mileage,
even though, old Uncle Ho,
may be the ghost that lurks
at tunnel end,
if days along the furrow
trailing hoe
were lengthened out
to miles of the killing fields
of Napalmed ‘Nam.

groovin on that memorable night in dorset

groovin on that memorable night in dorset

Forgive my mind
that trespasses in lands
where any visitor
would once have opted for
the white stick of the blind.

I’m lost and wander off
so many tracks,
you cannot blame me
when my ankles land before my toes,
because I’ve yet to find
the way to open up
the eyeballs on my back.

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Back Again

The nothing was blessèd and long… ‘til dimly aware of the soft, warm liquid, and distant muffled sounds..strange roaring and words in another tongue…

I flinch and kick, and kick. Memories of pain of body..always pain..but more ..the tearing of thorns.. the agony  of wrists splintered and bored..trying to focus on love while shredded by hatred and the dumb hope of eyes not knowing what to with themselves, staring at what?

Let it be gone forever. Give me nothing, nothing, beautiful nothing.

Everything is intrusion in this nothing. Even this warm, safe pool that seems to be me.

I want no memories and no present. But this warm, liquid body of me will not obey, and now I am being forced inside out, squeezed and squeezed, driven out of myself, struggling and blinded.

Not again! Not again!

Kevan Myers

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general musings

general musings

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**

Poetry in this post is copyright (c) Kevan Myers.

..

My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/