CITY OF ROCKS SP, NM—Sorry these posts are so long, but there’s a weird and powerful energy to this place…
Date: January 9, 2013 8:03 AM
A Dark Night
Starting at 2:56am and torturing me for about two hours (according to my voice recorder), a powerful insight began to form: I am addicted to my ideas—and (as sacrilegious as this may sound) my mind is cursed with extreme creativity—it is constantly spewing out fascinating and enticing ideas.
When I get hit with these ideas, I spend a lot of energy trying to flesh them out, understand them, and explain them.
The sentence above is exactly what is creating the ongoing, recurring “hardness” that repeatedly pulls me away from Her: The TRYING: trying to understand, trying to piece together, trying to explain.
I’m addicted to all these damn ideas and I hate (not an exaggeration) that their appeal keeps pulling me away from Her.
Do they have a 12-step program for addiction to creativity?
Date: January 9, 2013 8:22 AM
The Inquiry into Hardness
The above all started when I asked myself (at 2:56am), “Why don’t you feel you are ready to teach in person?”
The answer: “I still feel my personality, my presentation, is too hard.”
Q: “What is this hardness composed of?”
A: “Focusing on explaining all these insights that come up.”
Q: “What is wrong with that?”
A: “All the theories and explanations are too rational, they pull me away from the love I feel when I’m with Her and that makes me angry.”
Date: January 9, 2013 9:56 AM
Instead of getting right to work (I don’t know why Jim hasn’t fired me long ago), I went for a walk to contemplate this painful insight.
My feet trod fast, and my Demon raged, “No, you can’t get rid of me! I’m your inspiration! I’m your success! I’m your security! I’m why people read your blog! I’m the creativity that everyone dreams of having! I’m your future!”
He screamed, he raged, and as the sound of my footsteps would bring me back into Oneness, he’d scream louder and drag me back out.
Back and forth we’d go and slowly it dawned on me a new practice, one to practice every chance I get, every chance I can remember: To be the opening for Her. Not like a prophet or messiah or new-age channeller of spirits, but like a sense-organ for Her, a way for Her to see and experience the World… as an opening for Her to perceive Herself.
The world slowly came back into focus, and as I opened to Her, I saw with that heightened sense of clarity the birds and shrubs and rocks. The wind in the weather vane as I passed by sang with a divine music and by the time I arrived back at my rig, my pace had slowed to that of a monk in an abbey.
Can an alcoholic transcend his lust for the drink? Can a creative transcend his love of a great idea?
The 12-step programs would say, “No.”
The non-transparent nondual teachers (sadly the only kind I know of out there) would say, “Yes.”
But the God’s honest truth is, I simply don’t know.
Date: January 9, 2013 10:56 AM
147 “Someday” Blog Posts
To demonstrate my “creative addiction,” I just took a screen shot of a pageful of all the “Someday” blog posts. I have a total of 147 “Someday” blog posts in my queue.
Then on a whim, I pulled up my website stats for the day: 147 page views so far today.
I take “coincidences” like that as sign I’m on the right track—that this creative addiction is something I need to seriously address.
Date: January 9, 2013 4:31 PM
A Magical Walk
I worked a few hours writing some complex code, then, mentally tired, I put on my shoes and went for a walk.
I opened and expanded and allowed Her to see through me. It was beautiful. It felt as if I were giving Her a precious gift, something She rarely experiences.
Clear and open and deeply still inside, I ambled slowly down a dirt road that leads out into the prairie. I look up and see my boar ambling along at about the same slow pace towards me, completely unaware of my presence. Seeing that our paths will cross if I continue, I stop and wait and point my iPod to snap some photos. It isn’t until he is but a few yards away that he sees me and, in a sudden burst of energy and dust, runs out across the plain. I was oddly still—silently grateful—and I recalled that time when some wild birds nibbled on my toes when I was particularly… clear.
The road turned into a path and after a mile or so, the path led me back to camp and I followed it up into the rocks. With my iPod set to “random, play all” I climbed high up upon a large rock and sat down to look out over the vista. As I settled in, Loreena McKennitt’s hauntingly beautiful Dante’s Prayer came through the headphones and when she sang the following lyrics, I smiled and nodded to Her in gratitude at having acknowledged my “dark night.”
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me.
It's Time To Wake Up
Mystical Oneness and the Nine Aspects of Being is a step-by-step guide to enlightenment and beyond.
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