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Legs Like Dua Lipa?

1/19/2021

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                                                                           Wangari Maathai


That this African woman, Wangari Maathai, was an environmentalist and a winner of the Nobel Peace Prize likely means little to most folks -- and even less to those (like the fossil fuel industry) who prioritize "making a buck" over every other consideration... Wangari began what became known as the Green Belt Movement: an environmental cause taken up by women to plant millions of trees in Africa (and the world) as a saving grace for Planet Earth: she wrote, "The tree is just a symbol for what happens to the environment. The act of planting one is a symbol of revitalizing the community. Tree-planting is only the entry point into the wider debate about the environment. Everyone should plant a tree." Wangari's husband divorced her, and in doing so, noted that she was too hard to control!

Damn right! Too hard to control should become the clarion call of every young girl! (And the rest of us!)

​Just like Wangari and just like Mother Mary! Yeah, I know, I write too often about spirituality (but then again, this is about building your sacred life, is it not?). But there is a point that I want to make: I think it a silly spirituality that would have our saints and heroes dumbed-down into caricatures of supposedly holy, human beings (complete with plastic holy cards)... Shams of Tabriz insisted that Rumi go purchase a jug of wine in the public market place for all to see:  simply because the caricature of "saint" was a stumbling block to his truly becoming a saint... like Mary...

​The Wild-Woman of the Magnificat no doubt (in my mind) could play guitar like Ani Difranco, had legs like Dua Lipa, (but most importantly) walked with the swagger of Aretha Franklin! Religion is for the lazy: building your sacred life takes passion, swagger, and background music that bursts at the seams of your status-quo consciousness... Too hard to control is more than a black t-shirt saying: it's the holy shit that hits the fan when the Holy One gets too rambunctious and begins to insist on justice and liberation as the Keys to your next steps... just like Wangari... and just like Mother Mary... 

​There is not a particle of matter in the universe, not a grain of sand, a leaf, a flower, not a single animal or human being, which has not its eternal being in that One, and which is not known in the unitive vision of the One... This quotation is from The Marriage of East and West by Fr. Bede Griffiths... Here's another quote, from the same book, by Fr. Bede: Consciousness can grow beyond the boundaries of time and space, and enter into transcendent consciousness, a consciousness transcending the limits of matter and mind, of the categories of sense and reason, and become aware of the universal consciousness which embraces the whole creation... 

​Wangari, Mother Mary, and Fr. Bede! They all come together with (in) our every effort to live seamlessly the sacred: home, work, play, sex, leisure, community organizing, public service, meditation, walking the dog (s), washing the dishes, etc. etc. The Trinity of the Hindu, Sat (Being), Chid (Consciousness), and Ananda (Bliss), is the Undivided Totality within our Every Moment: it's all Sacred: it's all Good: It's all an Opened Door to Wonder and Beauty... Satchidananda... Say it... And meditate: "So Hum"... I am That...
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Everything Is Mind...

1/17/2021

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                                                   "The Great Void and the Realm of Form are Not Two!"


The above quotation, by John Blofeld (from Bodhisattva of Compassion, the Mystical Tradition of Kuan Yin), succinctly primes the reader for a quantum possibility: our minds are not separate from Mind (Blofeld)... Or, as physicist Amit Goswami puts it, "The breakthrough idea is that consciousness is neither a material brain product nor a dual object; instead, it is the ground of all being in which material objects exist as possibilities..." (from How Quantum Activism Can Save Civilization).

When you make the two one,
and when you make the inner as the outer
and the outer as the inner,
and the above as the below,
and when you make the male and the female into a single one
so that the male will not be male
and the female not be female,
then shall you enter the Kingdom.

-- Jesus of the Beloved (from the Gospel of Thomas)

​
Mind, or Quantum Consciousness, is the undifferentiated no-thing-ness of Ultimate Reality. This "IT" is the sole reality... and manifested reality is, in essence, the means by which, or through which, "IT" discovers and knows itself... Mind is the boundless source: and creation is, as it were, the boundless mirror in which Mind knows itself... Blofeld: both philosophers and physicists are veering in the direction of believing that the whole universe is a mental creation... (from Bodhisattva of Compassion).

This is perhaps the most meaningful (and playful) definition of our human purpose: we can choose to mirror the Quantum, Divine, Consciousness and thereby assist in Naming the Universe!

​
The Kingdom is the recognition of, and the mystical re-entry into, the Ultimate Reality of Oneness... The Path, as outlined by Jesus of the Beloved, is that of living our lives as the process of "making the two one"... The practicalities of Oneness are the Beatitudes and the Great Parable of How the Rubber Hits the Road: I was hungry and you fed me... or as the case too often is: I was hungry and you did not feed me... Quantum spirituality is the particle and wave of 21st century transformation / rEvolution...

​Living the mantra of Divine Life of undifferentiated compassion, is the radical humility of knowing that nothing can exist idependently of everything or anything else... Simply put, we need to jerk our mind onto a new platform (a new dimension of consciousness): thirty years of life in a Soup Kitchen with the slow-turning of beads in hand, Hail Mary Oh Ma, boiled with the potatoes to become OM-Ah! And returning to Oh Ma when catastrophe was looking me in the face and turning again into Hail Mary when getting fat and happy...

​
Surrendering into the soup of contemplation: seeking nothing (no-thing) only the be-coming of compassion... ungreedy... perhaps a simpleton... serene in obscurity... like a Third-World Mother... breathing the Mother in beads and service... a sage, a Buddha, a Christ... Namo Kuan Shih Yin P'u-Sa... Hail Mary full of Grace... Mother Mother... Oh Ma...

​Therefore should the mind be constantly fixed on her...
(from the Lotus Sutra)... Ordinary consciousness must surrender before extraordinary consciousness... Ultimately (only) the Path is that of becoming the Mother... just like Jesus... 
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The Warm Blanket Gospel...

1/11/2021

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                                                                                  Sahara Desert


​Little Brother of Jesus, Carlo Carreto, related a version of this story in his spiritual classic, Letters From the Desert... Without shade during the day and warm blankets at night, the great Sahara Desert will claim one's life... with no evident thought, whatsoever... As a novice in the Order which took on the mantle of Charles de Foucauld, Carlo Carreto was required to go out into the desert as a spiritual pilgrimage and trial by fire... 

​Brother Carlo had a small bag of dates, dry bread, water, and two blankets as provisions for his journey... Walking away into the desert, his beads passed slowly, with his breath, as he walked. A hood covered his head from the blazing grief of the Sun... that night, he not only gave thanks and praise to the Beloved, but also to the two blankets that would preserve his life during the plummeting cold... How strange the ways of death in the desert: fire or freeze! Not a human choice...

Brother Carlo survived that first night and a number of more as he kept walking and walking... breathing his prayers... calling out the holy Name as he stumbled in the sand, rocks cutting his hands, and the last of his dates spilling out... That night, he looked up into the stars: so many stars! They said there were more stars than grains of sand in the deserts of the world... he began to drift into the sleep of an exhausted man... when he heard a voice: not of the Divine, but of another man...

​How could that be? In that vast desert, how could another man have stumbled across him in the night? Brother Carlo invited the Stranger into his barren camp... he had nothing but the clothing upon his seemingly ancient frame. He asked Carlo if he might have a blanket for the night... Carlo knew the bitter cold of the Saharan nights, just as he knew that, at a minimum for survival, two blankets were required... If Carlo shared one blanket, both lives would be at risk... if he refused, the Stranger would certainly perish...  How could he refuse though? He was a Little Brother of Jesus, after all...

​Share he did... both he and the Stranger shivered, shook, and near morning, joined in a jump-about dance to celebrate their survival... Morning prayer was silent, touched with tears, but with a deep peace that he had not known before... As the Stranger departed, Brother Carlo called out, "Brother! You forgot your blanket!" Carlo handed the blanket to his Elder Brother... And strangely, as he continued his journey with his single blanket, he was not cold again...

​It seems,  after all is said and done, there is really only this little Warm Blanket Gospel...  
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Scratching the "faith" itch...

1/9/2021

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                                                                 Ram Dass, Holy Man Scoundrel


Some people seem to have been born with "extendo arms", perfect for reaching the troublesome spots that seem to always question and object to that which is called "faith"... Meanwhile, there are still others who trip over everything: like, obvious hypocrisy, conflicts with reason and science, and all of the accumulated power and privileges of the "priestly class" ("priestly" covering all of the "professional" religious, regardless of any specific faith)... And then there are some few, like Ram Dass, Andrew Harvey, Matthew Fox, Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan, Amit Goswami, and Bede Griffiths, who combine faith with science, and mysticism with activism...

​
At one time,  I admired the folks with "extendo arms" even while I habituated with the folks who are always "tripping" over something... But thirty years in a Soup Kitchen, somewhere along the line, got me to thinking that to keep trying to "scratch the faith itch" was both an abstraction and a distraction, in short, a waste of time... Sort of like approaching one's first-night-of-marriage-bed, with what one has studied as theories of pleasure... when the one thing required is a gentle, passionate, kiss and dive...

​Faith, in this day and age, is stupid. Haven't we all been around the Sun enough times now so as to get our heads adjusted to what really matters? And just exactly what is it that really matters? First off, if you intend to drive a car, you don't jump into the trunk, do you?
​Following after the Celtic insight, one either lives in, or intentionally cultivates, the spiritual perspective of radical amazement! One simply lets "faith" take care of itself: forget it as something of importance. It is enough to practice amazement! 

Science tells us that the Universe is most likely some 13.8 billion years old. The Hubble telescope can pear back in time just about that far! And yet! Here we are! We live on a tiny blue-green planet in the perfect position to orgasm life! Holy Moly! We live with mountains and rivers, oceans and ducks, snails and butterflies! We get to make love! Holy Moly again! We get to gaze upon a naked woman or a naked man: how incredible is that! We get to kiss and talk! We can talk Immanual Kant or Ani Difranco, and peanut butter with jelly or honey! 

​It is amazing this miracle of making babies...  and then to give birth, or to humbly try to help the definitely working mom... It is amazing to teach a child how to pee into a toilet... or out on the lawn when the neighbors aren't home... It is amazing for me to think back and to remember that I had a hand in giving away over two million meals to homeless and hungry folks! It is amazing that I got arrested with Martin Sheen at the Nevada Nuclear Test Site! It is amazing, always, to be able to feel the love in my heart, always greening (as St. Hildegard would say)... 

​Scratching the itch of faith, while there are so many reasons to doubt, just muddies the waters... We are such tiny beings, so fragile, so mortal, and so serious! It's like we've all taken up residence in the Inn of the Rabid Dog and we want to argue about G-d when we should be wondering if there's a rabid dog around... Faith will take care of itself, if you relax and enjoy your meal, the company you are keeping, and you always leave a very generous tip for the wait-staff and cook! 

Radical (to the roots) Amazement is the ticket to a good life! Tell your Lover, everyday, "Baby, I'm Amazed!" Stand in the Holy, holy, Sun, and say, "Baby, I'm Amazed!" Kiss your kids, and say, "Baby, you are Amazing!" Stand up for social justice, peace, equality, and re-generating the Planet: and say to yourself, "Baby, I am Amazing!" Pass it on and on: cultivate opportunies to live and to become radical amazement... 

[I hope you won't be offended or disappointed if I tell you the secret of the Mystics... but, "BOO!" is the Name of God...]

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No! To the New Confederacy! No! To QAnon!

1/8/2021

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                                                  One of Trump's New Confederates... Brandishing Their Flag

​Generally
speaking, I try to keep my politics focused on the big political design of the Holy Scriptures: be gentle and compassionate as your Divine Beloved... Obviously, compassion implies peace, nonviolence, social justice, the equality of gender and race, and the loving stewardship of our Common Home... But, the attempted coup and insurrection that was prompted by Trump, will not stand without my voice (small as it is) getting into the mix...

Rush Limbaugh can moan and groan his appreciation for the violence employed by the patriots of 1776 -- and wish that current "patriots" shared a similar conviction... if they had, how many of our Representatives would have been murdered? As it is, January 6, 2021 will forever be a day of infamy: when America's "dance with democracy" nearly came (how close?) to a shocking end... That "nearly" was serious: what if the military had followed Trump? What if former General Flynn still had troops at his command? That is just "how close" Wednesday was to disaster...

​I've written and said it before: tell no lie! Neither money nor violence are the root of evil. Rather, the root of evil are all of the lies that support it! Racism is entirely constructed on lies. Sexism is entirely constructed on lies. Inequality is entirely constructed on lies. Social injustice is entirely constructed on lies. And the greed that would willingly put @risk the well-being of the entire Planet is entirely constructed on lies. Limbaugh, Jones, Carlson, and the rest of the plainly right-wing-nut media would have nothing to say -- nothing to add to our national conversation -- if they could never again lie! And as for Trump, it does seem that lying for him comes as natural as breathing...

Where do we go from here? Right next to the table upon which I write, are a couple stacks of books: books that are my reference points to the wisdom I seek: there's the Gospel of Jesus, the Tao Te Ching, the Bhagavad Gita, the poems of Li Po and Tu Fu, Be Love Now by Ram Dass, the Tao, Watercourse Way by Alan Watts, Illuminations of Hildegard by Matthew Fox, a book by Fr. Bede Griffiths... with more to my right and more behind me and more out into our Gathering Room... The point is not that I can read! Rather, it is that I have points to which I refer as I strive to build my sacred life... 

​When I write about compassion, nonviolence, the Beatitude Life, contemplation, radical personalism, social justice. etc. I don't just pull ideas out of thin air: I constantly check my references! Is this, is that, at least approaching consistency with the big ideas of the Gospel, with the Tao, with St. Francis, with Dorothy Day...? I don't check in with Limbaugh or Carlson: I don't reference Trump or Cruz: remember by their fruits you shall know them: they lie! Who in their right mind wants a mouthful of their fruit? 

​I am a deeply flawed human male: but with my reference points frequently employed, I still have potential! 

​What are your reference points? Which exemplars or saints or sages direct your attention? How do you imitate Christ? Are your prayers about your wants or are they about how you need to serve others? If you are still breathing, you still have time to become the hero of your own life story: not as in "look at me!", but in "this, becoming Love, is my real life!" Read anything by Ram Dass, but especially, Be Love Now... I understand that everything is a choice: you can believe Trump and QAnon, or you can take a chance on Robert Daniel and read some Ram Dass... there is a big difference: Ram Dass will fill your head and heart with wonder... while QAnon can, in the end, only promise (no pun intended), a brick in the ass... 

​Building your sacred life is as daring as the sacred choice to never tell a lie -- and to turn your back on the liars: and if you still haven't learned how to tell the difference between truth and lies, just compare whomever's words and actions to the Beatitudes of Yeshua (Jesus of the Beloved)... it really is quite simple...

 
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And Her Name Is Chuck!

1/4/2021

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                                                       Steven Spielberg and Actors from Ready Player One


​
A weirdly fun movie, from a few years ago, is Ready Player One, based on the book by the same name. Out of context and with no explanation, I have pulled five words from the movie as title for this blog, and her name is Chuck! I figure that it's a good place to start with another pondering of soul, person, Tao, and Gospel... I guess that you could say, now go figure...

​
In other words, the idea of who someone is (perhaps you) is a mental construct of an environmental construct: in spite of the photos I present of myself, with accompaning philosophy, I just might really be Chuck... Maybe, in fact, you are... Chuck is the illusory idea of any and every individual self... We build our sense of self from the tools of self-identification that we are taught, along with the overwhelming influences of place, class, race, gender, education, culture, and religion: all together, they (we!) are an environmental construct...

​But, who would either you or I be, if we were born with our opposite gender, up or down on the class-ladder, and so on? If every conditioned, environmental, construct was stripped away, who would you be? Who would I be? 

Perhaps most religious philosophies, insist that, in our essence, we are soul... Western religion generally thinks of soul as something that we have, sort of like an interior ghost that we possess... And that it is our soul that is of primary interest to G-d... or so it seems... Delving a bit deeper, there is also the philosophy of person: a person being the union of body and soul, and it is as person that the Divine relates to us... but, that still begs the question of ideas and constructs: both mental and environmental... It seems to me, as I both ponder and write, that the idea of both soul and person are themselves constructs of mind, time, place, and environment...

​Is there even a me without each and all of the constructs with which "I" am inundated from birth-through-life?

​Why should I even care? This, too, is a construct. Going along, being "saved", being forgotten, whatever: it's all just ideas, right? Decide to agree with this, disagree with that, and so on, neither proves nor means anything at all... Everything happens in our Mind, right?... A current catch-phrase is mindfulness: a word-construct meaning attention to the moments... It seems to me that we are always, always, full-of-it-in-our-mind! Isn't it time for some classes in mindlessness?

​
"Chuck" is whomever we think that we are. But, who were you, before you were "Chuck"?

​This question of "Chuck" is the essence of the mystic-path: "not him, not her", not this, not that, all the way to the very bottom of emptiness... It is precisely at that zero-point, that un-conditioned Real Reality, that we see our face before we were born... Infinity begins in no-thing... Heaven is exactly beneath your feet... Ego-annihilation is a trip into our own personal Chuck... Zero-point is such Radical Grace, that every mystic turns and turns and turns and runs away, back into her Chuck! This is the spiritual life, the building of your sacred life!

​Here's my own, very first, zero-point story. (It's true!) As you likely already know, I started a Catholic Worker Community back in yonder-years, with my life savings being our start-up funds. Inevitably, within a few months, all the money ran out (a bit over $6,000)... I collapsed into a complete ego-annihilation: I had "lost" my savings as I had "lost" my Catholic Worker vision and project: no money, no food, no way to any longer serve the folks who had come to so appreciate the free meals we gave them...

​
Completely empty of both faith and possibilities, I told the first volunteers who showed up that we were done... Kevin suggested that we say a prayer, Anna Marie selected the silly scripture of Jesus of the Beloved taking five loaves of bread and two fish and with them feeding over five thousand people. Welcome into what is possible with Radical Grace at the Zero-Point: we gathered into a circle of five people, listened to the scripture, recited the Our Father, and that was it... within minutes, a white, unmarked, semi-truck parked in front of our CW House... the driver knocked on our door, "Would we like some bread?"

​
We unloaded the truck: bread was three feet deep across the sofa: bread was stuffed everywhere it was possible to stuff bread... Now, remember that zero-point: I walked from our front door into the kitchen: at that precise moment, our phone rang: I turned to the volunteer on my right, Bob, and said to him, "God, I hope that's not a donation of more bread!" I answered the phone: a fisherman in Moss Landing wanted to know if we'd like to have 400 pounds of frozen fish?

​The impossible miracle story of the Loaves and Fishes,
is the kind of explosion that happens whenever "Chuck" disappears somewhere into the zero-point: when our original face before we were born: conditioned by everything into our very own personal Chuck... has ceased, even for just a moment, to exist... Exactly this, is the high-point, the end of evolution: infinitity... heaven... didn't Jesus say: the Kingdom of God is within you? Ultimately, building your sacred life is learning how to get out of the way... Everything that Jesus taught was a "how-to" in getting out of the way... it's all a road-map into ego-annihilation... like what Hafiz said: "Zero is where the real fun starts!"
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Can't Get No Satisfaction?

1/1/2021

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                                                                             Masanoba Fukuoka
                                                               Japanese farmer and philosopher
                                                                   Author: One-Straw Revolution

​
Western Civilization has advanced? to the now common practice of living by the axiom of freedom is busy-for-money... even the homeless man has to be busy: collecting cans or otherwise scheming for beer-food-motel money... Whether homeless man, industrial giant, movie-maker, or member of Congress: dissatisfaction and only dissatisfaction keeps the wheels greased and spinning... It's all the same, only the scale differs...

As a direct consequence for our collective life-by-dissatifaction, our very Planet itself is giving every evidence of its own essential dissatisfaction: global warming is a tirade of judgment on the entire system of dissatisfaction... On the other hand, there have long been folks like Masanoba Fukuoka who have observed the rhythms of nature: get up at dawn, get something to eat, lolly-gag around, nap in the afternoon, eat again as the sun goes down, wrestle in the grass with a lover, and then simply sleep... The attainment of a certain quality of leisure gave rise to philosophy, the arts, meaning-making, and the construction of all of the underpinnings of civilization... Indeed, philosophy is the cultivation of satisfaction...

​How much is enough? is a relevant question for the individual person and society both. By now, it is no longer a question motivated by jealousy to ponder what it means if a person who spends a million dollars a day for his own consumption or pleasure, could still make a profit: as is the case for any number of folks in the billionaire-class... A solid gold toilet is still a toilet...

​The Unholy Trinity (Privilege, Profit, and Power), needs the concentrated push-back of the citizen-voter-activist standing to serve and save democracy from the schemings of the solid-gold-toilet-billionaire-brigade... controlling Congress, media, banks, agriculture, the courts, the police, and every civil institution, it might seem too much for the solitary citizen-voter-activist... which is true enough, for as far as it goes...

​But on the other side of true enough is where personal transformation and social change reside in creative freedom, resistance, and rEvolution... A nation of gardeners, consciously sequestering carbon in their small-scale urban farms, is perhaps the most consequential action we could take: scale down in life-style: embrace simple living: build intentional community: and cultivate satisfaction in one's daily life... this is the antidote to the cruelity of "freedom is busy-for-money"... Happiness is the cessation of the search for happiness: happiness is supposed to be the satisfaction that is generated by "enough"... 

​And what are the tell-tale signs of "enough":  isn't it time for thinking, time for relaxation, time for play, time for children, time for walking, time for holding hands, time for making love any time, time for volunteering, time for cooking incredible meals for a common table that includes family, friends, and welcoming strangers, time for civic actions and commitments, time for working the garden, time for planning a trip to Paris, time for a bike ride, time for climbing a mountain, time for teaching someone how to read... time is literally endless when we have recovered our natural sensibilities and have learned our philosophy of life: life is for living with grace, with gentleness, and with the peaceable kingdom in mind... 

​Heaven is inexhaustible in bringing forth wild bounty. (The I Ching, translated by David Hinton)

Quotes by Masanoba Fukuoka:  

​
Could there be anything better than living simply and taking it easy?

I believe that if one fathoms deeply one's own neighborhood and the everyday world in which he lives, the greatest of worlds will be revealed.

The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.

Ignorance, hatred, and greed are killing nature.

​Giving up your ego is the shortest way to unification with nature.
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A Poet's Choice...

12/30/2020

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                                                                                Robert Bly, Poet



                                 The poet makes a meadow from each leaf.
                                 Each curve of language turns into a lamb's ear
                                 Because a genius is a child in the house of suffering.
                                                          -- Robert Bly
                                    (The Night Abraham Called To The Stars)


It's unlikely Robert Bly ever really had a choice: except for that yes or no... does any poet ever really wrestle with to be a poet or not? Oh to be sure, most of us do wrestle with how to make enough money to live: but we learn how to make do: washing dishes, tending bar, driving truck, and some are lucky enough to be teaching kids... but all of us poets were born with a specific itch...

​An interior itch is worse than a hemorrhoid itch... and the only possible scratch is with words... a line or two, like these four! from William Blake: I give you the end of a golden string / Only wind it into a ball / It will lead you in at Heaven's gate / Built in Jerusalem's wall. Something to say... something, the poet is sure, that needs to be said...

​Even a seemingly mundane moment, like this one that begins a poem by Robert Bly, can ease its way into space for undying mystery: A man and a woman sit near each other... [from A Third Body]... The poet's choice is always to search for and to chase down: the word the line the essential stuff of the universe and everything that matters...

​Language is a means of communicating: it is always all about a you and an I... all of the arts are the same, only the medium changes: music, painting, sculpting, dance, photography, film, song: all of art is always an I and a you... The I is never a solitary one... I is also always us... The poet is searching for that one line that can save the Universe...

​Picking up on the Greek Logos, the early Christian mystics identified Jesus of the Beloved as the Logos, or Word... specifically as the Word of the Divine: the Voice was that of the Divine Consciousness, and the spoken Word was the means by which, and through which, everything that matters came into being... I think it more magical to think of the Poem, and not "just" Word... 

​Here's Coleman Barks translating the first line of a Rumi poem: I, you, he, she, we... even though those five words are the most sacred, they are still not enough... so Rumi adds: In the garden of mystic lovers / these are not true distinctions... See! There's the line that could, in fact, save the Universe... "Distinctions" are the stuff of privilege, profit, and power (the Unholy Trinity)... Without distinctions, there is only us... "Us" is where things are clarified... Quite a few people scoff at the idea of Word become flesh... or of Bread become body... but when distinctions disappear, out go the defintions of difference: then what if and why not become the questions of building a bridge...

Reaching for a stack of my poems and thumbing through them, I stop with a poem entitled Dripping... the first line is not going to save the Universe, but it does set the scene for the second: The sun shines and rains upon my skin / Like a tongue dripping pleasure... without end... And it goes on to be about a gathering of poets... A fundamental human need is for song and conversation: for the kind of conversations that unlock doors, that fling open the shutters of the abandoned rooms of the heart, and that convince us that we were born for ecstasy!

​
Reading the news, it's impossible not to see how measely so many lives have become! How incredibly small and tiresome are the speeches of political leaders, the pronouncements of religious leaders, and the hunger for celebrity that infects entire cultures... I once sat about fifteen feet away from Coleman Barks as he read from his translations of Rumi. His eyes read those poems for me, and he knew it, as he bore down into my eyes... That's it! The poet, not unlike the Original Voice, gives birth to the Word... and at least for a moment, I, you, he, she, we do not matter: those distinctions of difference are not real... 

​Jesus was a Poet. Christmas is a celebration of the Poet's Choice... to listen to the Voice of one's heart... to collect a word here and a word there... to string those few words together... and no matter what words make their way onto paper, they always, in the final analysis boil down to Here take this Bread, it is my Body, given to you... Only a Poet could have imagined such a wonderful line...

I write poetry because I have to... -- James A. Autry
Now tonight / I am a burning bush / my bones a grill of fire... -- Jimmy Santiago Baca
Poetry is my passion. It is my art. It is my love. -- Marilyn Chin
Poetry began when somebody walked off a savanna or out of a cave and looked up at the sky with wonder and said, "Ah-h-h!" That was the first poem. -- Lucille Clifton
​She bears / the rainbowed layers of charity and murmurs / all of you / even the least of you... -- Rita Dove
One day in the eighth grade the teacher came in and said, "All right, everyone's got to write a poem." We were dumbfounded -- a poem? -- Joy Harjo
We have the same problems that everybody else has. -- Jane Kenyon
My first hunger of every day is to let words come through me... -- Naomi Shiab Nye
There is a seething, burgeoning poetry out there... -- Adrienne Rich
How Poetry Comes To Me... It comes blundering over the / Boulders at night...
-- Gary Snyder
I could not live if I didn't write poetry... -- Daisy Zamora 
     
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The Romance of Your Interior Life...

12/28/2020

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      ​                                                                                  Celtic Cross 


An insight common to all mystics, regardless of particular faith, is that of remembrance of the Beloved... Whether at rest, work, or even play, the Beloved is always present, like a shadow to a body when standing in the noon-day sun... The height, depth, and breadth of mystic-life, of your interior life, is that of remembrance. Remembrance, while both a subject and an attitude, it is always an essential experiential reality to be cultivated: such is the work of the mystic... Remembrance can, perhaps, best be described as the spiritual or interior application of falling in love...

​Michelle and I have been living an extended honeymoon of now eighteen years: our remembrance of the other is a cultivated magic: we talk, we listen, we encourage, we hold hands while walking, we plainly adore the other, we kiss, and we grab all the time... Our three beautifuls see and know that we are nuts about each other: and that state of being lends itself to our primary family spiritual practice: we always gather for a gratitude circle before every meal together: each of us has our turn to express those things that bring forth an awareness of thanksgiving... Inevitably, we each hear our name called out multiple times: Even in times of hardship and struggle (from which no living being is exempt), awareness of gratitude is both our bread and our breath...

​Falling in love is the sacred path of remembrance: the maintenance of that falling is the work of religion (a work in which it oftentimes miserably fails)... The height, depth, and breadth of the mystic-life can perhaps be best described as similar to that of parents with their first gaze upon their newborn child: that gaze is stunning: the mystic-aura of the newborn gathers into itself every bit of the adoring love of those parents: and returns it without any claim of ownership, in the humble perfection of gratitude... Oh! and the waiting breast! Oh, and the father's hand holding the tiny head! And the sacred tears of both Mother and Father that flood like a breaking dam...  

​Prayer (your interior life) flows from remembrance and gratitude: words can be used, but ultimately, either a groan or a stutter are better. Words in prayer are like a circle drawn in the sand: into that circle we write the words that best indicate our experiences: words of adoration, but also of grief and of loss, words of hope, but also of fears, words of tenderness, but also of stress and anger... what matters is the fact of remembrance... and like a couple in love-making, mutual surrender, one into the other, remembrance-prayer is the spirituality of St. John, leaning forward onto the breast of Jesus of the Beloved, and listening to the heartbeat of God...

​
In work and in play, in the very midst of the everyday-stuff of our life, we have the opportunity to seek awareness of the Beloved: this spirituality of nonduality is, as it were, the silent alphabet of mysticism... It's fundamentally silly to perceive difference as the heart of creation: good / bad... beautiful / ugly... worthy / unworthy... etc. etc. The Divine Beloved is not separate from creation: the whole of creation is sacramental: a magic-portal for an encounter with and in the Beloved...

​
Remembrance of the Beloved, is both an outlook and an inlook... Interiorly, we might link the Holy Name with our breath, for truly, our breath is our one never-ending meditation... this inlook inevitably transforms one's outlook... and our outlook is the direct evidence that we are alive in our endless romance with the Beloved... romance is the way of the lover... love-notes, sneaking up to kiss one's lover on the back of her neck, surprising her with an evening out (sometimes without you!), and hot tub interludes... everyday can hold any number of moments of remembrance... So too with the Divine Beloved: a moment, even a single breath, offered in gratitude for the opportunity to live and to love and to give...  

​Narrow shafts of divine light pierce the veil that separates heaven from earth... There is no creature on earth in whom God is absent... The presence of God's spirit in all living things is what makes them beautiful... If we look with God's eyes, nothing on the earth is ugly... When our love is directed towards an animal or even a tree, we are participating in the fullness of God's love... It is not believing in Christ that matters; it is becoming like him... A person who is rich and yet refuses to give food to the hungry may cause far more deaths than even the cruellest murderer... Write down with your own hand on paper what God has written with his hand on the human heart... -- Pelagius, 4th Century, Celtic Christian 

​Another important ingredient in building your sacred life, from the example of the Celtic Church, is that of anamchara: or "soul friend" with whom one shares the inner workings of her soul... A soul friend listens and listens more... occasionally, if one veers way out into la-la-land, he might get a "knock" on the side of his head, delivered by his soul friend... however, the secret of the soul friend is "pass no judgment" and to encourage the inner work of the Spirit: humility, patience, kindness, compassion, and service... 

​The truest surprise of the Celtic rendering of the Gospel is the essential way of engaging with the world in which we live: everything is a theophany, a visible manifestation of the Beloved... remembrance and gratitude can be the love-letters that your life writes to the Beloved... so be it...
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No-Harm-Tough...

12/26/2020

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Picture
                  Photo (by the great Bob Fitch) of Dorothy Day, Civil Disobedience with the United Farm Workers

​
Dorothy Day, as significantly as any other, was captured by the nonviolence of Yeshua bar Alaha (Jesus of the Beloved): from Soup Kitchen and shelter, to the fields and vineyards of California, Dorothy lived the conviction that the Gospel was an invitation to rEvolution... That the Gospel was pregnant with possibilities, was only too obvious to her: why not to us?

​Why not to us
is not a skip-over question... this question mirrors that of the First Thought of the Beloved: Why not? Everything that we need to do is wrapped up in these two questions!

​There is that within us, as Thomas Merton wrote, a point of nothingness... a point of pure truth, a point of spark which belongs entirely to God... A Christian would call this point "soul" ... others, particularly of the Hindu faith, would identify it as atman (our interior oneness with the Divine)... in any case, the point is that which is always open, vulnerable, and available to the flow, the Breath, of the Beloved... and, I suppose, it essential to write that this flow-breath is always Now...

The Gospel story of the Angel's visit to Mary came with a rush... now is the time... are you ready? The saddest part of this story is simply that the Angel's question was not a one-and-done-thing... as we like to think. Rather, we are supposed to live the story as a question asked of each one of us: now is the time, are you ready, and will you give birth to the Beloved in your life, wherever you are, right now?

​
Not even breath is free! Everything comes with an accompaning cost: even grace, which is freely given, comes with an expectation... Dorothy Day accepted this as a simple and obvious fact: the ways in which she lived a radical openness, vulnerability, and availability are now the stuff of Catholic Worker legend... but again, we are supposed to be legendary in our own lives! Real love is either about personal and social transformation or it really isn't love at all...

There is a story that comes from the New York Catholic Worker... One day, a guest in the Soup Kitchen was agitated, and then increasingly so... Becoming irate at the suggestion of a volunteer Catholic Worker that he calm down, he approached, threatened, and in short order had the volunteer in a head-lock while he rained down upon him every foulness that he could think of... all the while, Dorothy was seated on a bench and calmly peeling potatoes... Finally the irate guest released the now humiliated volunteer and left the dining room... the volunteer turned to Dorothy and said, "Why didn't you do something!?" Dorothy responded with a curt, "I did. I was praying for you." And that was that -- except that the volunteer realized that he hadn't actually been hurt... only humbled...

​Well, I will admit that this isn't the best of possible stories to relate, but it does illustrate  how the Gospel challenges us to become no-harm-tough... which is another way of what Rev. Cynthia Bourgeault calls "Blessed are the gentled." In other words, Jesus of the Beloved invites us into his life -- his way of life -- in which we submit to the egoic transformation that is required of becoming an adult stepping towards wisdom... It is by our yearning that we will give witness to the possibilities of peace and justice that rest in the Heart of the Gospel...

​
The Beatitudes, which convey the heart of the Christ-Path, are at their core, an explanation of the Way in which the Universe is attuned: it is not only about the vibratory structure of the Universe, but about the vibratory connectedness that is at the Heart of Wisdom (which is at the heart of everything)... This is the Way things shake... I could write the obvious: it is all about Love and loving... but that would be too easy... and as Dostoevsky wrote "Love in reality is a harsh and dreadful thing, compared to love in dreams"... so what I will write is the word nonviolence... "Cause no harm" would be the first "rule" of nonviolence... And realizing the impossibility of that, there is a second "rule": "Cause as little harm as possible"...

​Wrestle with this: be upset, be riled-up, but don't be dismissive! Remember the vibratory connectedness that is at the Heart of Wisdom (and everything)... Everything connects in the Heart... it is precisely in our wrestle-mania with no-harm-tough that transformation will be made more than possible...  "The greatest challenge of the day is: how to bring about a revolution of heart, a revolution which has to start with each one of us." -- Dorothy Day, Saint of the Gutter Beautiful
 
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    Robert Daniel Smith was privileged to serve the homeless and marginalized for 30 years in California. He is living now almost within shouting distance of the Twin Cities. He is an interfaith minister, a poet, artist, writer, and long-time Franciscan Worker / Companion of the Way currently dreaming Iona House...

    ​Recommended Reading:

    ​Be Love Now by Ram Dass

    The Rebirthing of God by John Philip Newell

    The Hope by Andrew Harvey

    The Return of the Mother by Andrew Harvey

    ​Creation Spirituality by Matthew Fox

    Loaves and Fishes by Dorothy Day 

    Sacred Pleasure by Riane Eisler

    Occupy Spirituality by Adam Bucko and Matthew Fox

    Existence by David Hinton

    Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

    The Self-Aware Universe by Amit Goswami, Ph.D.

    Bhagavad Gita by Eknath Easwaran

    The Wisdom Jesus by Rev. Cynthia Bourgeault

    ​Living the Eternal Way by Rev. Ellen Grace O'Brian

    Listening For The Heartbeat of God by John Philip Newell

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