it's all about LOVE

I realised clearly last night that one can never know another completely and really it's not necessary. We want to in order to elevate our status and standing with another, our importance to another- but there is no need.
The closest person to me, my son, who i carried in this body and held as he took his first breath and fed on milk from this body and nurture carefully, daily is still operating independently from me. He's not really 'mine'-no one is ever anybody's. The love between us is perhaps the strongest, most intensely felt-constantly flowing in both directions but there is so much about him i'll never know and don't need to know.
All in need to do is love him and that just happens, it's just there. In that love i'll see him, watch, sense, feel and enjoy the essence of him, know his nature-let our true nature communicate and dance freely. I say,'my boy' because he looks like me, he has my genes, he is of this body but I don't own him, there is no ownership. This I understand clearly. I am a parent, a mother and I see what that means.

He had a whole world going on last night in his room, when he was meant to be asleep, that was nothing to do with me. He changed his bed clothes to another set of clothes, changed his bedtime story on his CD player to something else, emptied his wardrobe, ransacked his room and set up little displays of toys. He didn't want to sleep, he was on a mission that only he could understand and I let him do it.

As I changed his clothes back and removed his crocs and put him back into bed at 10.45 when he had exhausted himself, I saw that all I can ever do completely is love him.

Waking Up to Oneness and Celebrating Separateness

Yeah! Love him! The point of existence is clear -living, breathing life as art-art as life

i like i love

I like unmani. She's no nonsense-direct,down to it-with humour and care. She's right, it can be lonely, it is nakedness, vulnerability, it requires courage, wilingness to stand in this, time and time again. The thoughts may keep coming, patterns of thought, groups of thought but they have less and less power, become more and more distant and they are meaningless-like puffs of smoke from a cigarette. I see the thoughts, watch them,but this is stronger, what this is, what i am is prevalent, primary, the thoughts come and go within.

One man today at Unmani's Meeting in Not Knowing said he still wanted to hide and protect himself. I feel the opposite. I want to stand in the face of it and take whatever comes to get to naked truth. I like being hit hard by truth-it can be shattering, I want it to be shattering, going deeper and deeper into this. Now i know, i want to know more, i want be immersed in it completely. There's nothing to lose-no-one to lose it.

I like not knowing. I really like it-the pressure of having to know, feeling like you know or should know creates big problems-it is the problem. And the more people pretend to know, act like they know the more ludicous and removed they become-the more separated they are. This is a glorious, massive mystery. As a little person, it's impossible to compete with it, to hope to know and understand and conquer it. That creates misery.

I love the mystery. I'm in love with the mystery-i am the mystery along with all else...

STRIKE

standing in the face of truth, however harsh it may be, I die somemore and it feels good.
there is nothing to hide from, nothing that needs protecting, -blow apart any remaining notion or hanging on of an identity or attachment to any part of the story. The things that keep dragging me back-look at them, face them, see them, meet them, then they fall away, dissolve into nothing, made of nothing. They have no substance.

this.here.right here.right now...there's only this

Bill Hicks: What is the point to Life

underneath it all

am I just really, really tired or...some days are odd like I'm not at all connected-not in it at all-it's happening, I speak, I interract but the connection's not there. Gary called, i missed it, he left a sarcastic text-a reaction came like hot water scalding my insides and a feeling of me and him descended-not a nice feeling-irritated, uncomfortable. It passes.

sporadically the effort of going along with it, getting mixed in with all the other stories co-existing, becomes a bit of a chore. Some days it's enjoyable, really easy and flowing, fascinating and endlessly interesting but others i want to be still and quite, just noticing, reading, listening or contemplating.

always i love louie-sweet, gentle love as soft as his skin, as fragrant as him-even when I'm frustrated with his mad energy bursting all over the place-i love that boy. it is all reflected in him, in his image and presence -in an unadulturated form-that's why it's so whoozy-it's like mainlining LOVE..pure