can you awaken someone

by poking them with a sharp stick

or is it better to make them breakfast in bed?

venting one's passions is spiritual

passion is spiritual, dammit!

and

there is no meaning to life
only the venting of passion

i shrug off the coat of judgment

trying slyly
still to win

and yet

i understand,
you don't want me to have a
pagan wedding

what's holding up her face?

nothing but blue skies

where do you live

if love is a place?

where are you from

she says

ask yourself

ask anyone

-metric

electronic amulet

this is my baby

I used to think that waking up from the movie and understanding that i am an infinite being was the best thing to do. It was almost as if I were in some sort of schoolboy competition, as to who could discard themselves the quickest. I believe now that passion is more important than understanding, that truly feeling is more important than anything else and that love for others is the most important thing of all. My path with heart is love and passion. Way cooler than so called enlightenment. We are here for a reason, and not simply to escape. I suspect that anyone you look at can awaken any time they want, and are simply indulging themselves in their crap if they act otherwise. So, therefore, I believe you are asleep by choice, I am asleep by choice, etc. And that being the case, chasing after spirituality is just an indulgence, no different than chasing after money, or art or ... The real story is the chase. The passion, the love along the way.

2006-07-25 20:38:27

sorceress

jann haworth

it still trips me out

that i met the love of my life on a spirituality message board and not at, like, the avn awards. i mean really, who would have thunk it?

i'm just sayin

The female Asian Mourning Gecko has found a
way to simulate sex and produce eggs, rendering
the male of the species useless.

the enlightenment card

yes, folks, you are now part of visa's marketing plan.

http://www.enlightenmentcard.com/

vishuddhi and anja

ouch this shit hurts
and now it's cold
stop fighting it
and for a moment
just now
the wind stops

do you pray?

i don't pray anymore. i just stopped praying, stopped talking, to a god who is outside my concept of self. it's disconcerting, and slightly scary, to realize that i am the same as everything around me, but strangely, it's also empowering. everything, both good and bad, in my life, is my creation. my story. if i want change, i change my story.

not in kansas anymore

by christine wicker

People with, shall we say, expanded kinds of awareness are quietly blending among us, cobbling together spiritual lives that are more freewheeling than anything ever seen before. Quietly, quietly, with a minimum of fuss, they are reenchanting the world -- their worlds anyway. The waitress wears a pentacle under her blouse. The computer geek next door is a conjure doc. The mom down the street tells fortunes. Soldiers chant towards gods of war. Nurses send healing power through their hands. You have to know what to look for. You have to search them out, ask the right questions, notice the right signs, but they are there, here, everywhere around us. Deep into the night, with only the blue glow of computer screens lighting their faces, they send streams of energy to one another, small town to inner city, Amsterdam to Houston to San Juan, virtual meets magical and melds.

red hair dreams

from grandfather's song by jake george

The wind shifted, and Talking Coyote could smell death in the air. The trees, moments ago full of leaves and life, were stripped of their bark by hungry animals. No leaves remained on the trees. Turning circles, he could see hundreds of dead animals. All were emaciated and predators had marred none; they all died of starvation. It was still the same path he was on a moment ago, walking to his favorite trout stream, but it was also different.

Returning to the path toward the stream the smell of death almost made him gag. I need to get to the stream and wash my face. This has to be a dream.

From behind him came a voice: “It is not a dream, N’gsisak.”

Talking Coyote turned and Red Hair shape-shifted from a spruce tree to a man. He spoke again, “This is very real. They are all dying. You must help them.” Red Hair was dressed in only a breechclout, and his white skin, although tanned, was still a white man.

“I am not afraid of you, white man who speaks Lenape. You are not a danger to me.” If only Talking Coyote could convince his mind of that bravado. On the verge of cracking and running for his life, he decided to speak for some reason. “Why do you bother my dreams?”

“You are incorrect on three things. I speak Lenape because I am Lenape, not a white man. I am no danger to you, and I do not bother your dreams.” Red Hair smiled and sat in front of Talking Coyote. “Smoke with me, my son,” he said, as he removed a pipe from a plain leather bag. The pipe was anything but ordinary. It shined like the silver of a full moon on a still lake. It was not metal but actually made from water.

As Red Hair filled the pipe, Talking Coyote could see the tobacco being put into the pipe through its watery sides.

“Sit and Smoke with me, my son,” Red Hair repeated.

“If you do not bother my dreams, then why are you here now?” Talking Coyote said a bit too loud.

Red Hair smiled again as he lit the pipe with a flame that came from the end of his index finger. “Are you dreaming or are you walking to your favorite trout stream to fish for trout you do not need.” Smoke from the pipe drifted toward Talking Coyote as Red Hair exhaled in his direction. “Do you not dream only when you are asleep? If so, then you are not dreaming and I am not bothering your dreams,” he laughed. “You are awake. Smoke with me.”

enlightenment is an illusion

finally at long last, he realized that true enlightenment is a matter of endless practice and compassionate functioning, not something that occurs once and for all in one great moment on the cushion.

so...

don't know much 'bout buddha

but i know his shit is probably going to to have the same holes as the teachings of all the other spiritual leaders i've come across... maybe slightly better, but there will still be that feeling... something's not right... there is this level of happiness that i'm supposed to have, or this thing that i'm supposed to do, and i can never get there, i can never do it... and if i do it, it doesn't feel good... not the way they say it should...

why all these fuckin rules?

the only idea i like right now is the one about not having ideas