Zen Koan

Quaking earth reflecting Thundering skies
Skraggling bolts hitting Skraggling trees
When what you want most is to be scared
If, at the very least, feeling again.
Estranged father begets self,
With the quicksilver Touch and Go,
Emulsed with time, that Autocatalytic fear
Quickening, quickening, Stuttering as
Much as speaking softly, as if this message
Could be broken like glass.

Strength. Again and again tested.

Something to Listen to

For later

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/10/help-from-heinlein.html

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/10/people-simply-empty-out.html

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/10/the-beauty-of-words.html

Ouroboros, The First to Divide by Zero

I'm paraphrasing, but Grant Venerable, the name of greatness if ever there was one, once said that the measure of a man's excellence was his ability to confront paradox. When you look for solace and find bewilderment- to get that real sense of what's up, to get a solid dose of that wretchedness.
I've got a deep relationship with that feeling. One moment, under the weight of being self-critical to the point of manic depression, to becoming that weight. That unbelievable, undefinable weight. It's the simultaneous feeling of being a pimple and the greasy preteen squeezing it. The zip-pop-wow of being transported between that flimsy, wretched thing to that incalculably solid feeling.
A titan amongst men. That indistinguishable "it." Beyond being the product of the universe, a thing to be acted upon; not even relating to the body. You are the strength that acts upon the body. Not the motion itself, but the motion of motion. The wetness of water. The strength in strength. Action of action.
Beyond even that. Yes, I've got a deep relationship with that feeling.

Magnum Opus

The great work.

A Response to Loneliness

Today at lunch I was feeling depressed again- an overflow from yesterday, not quite resolved. I was looking around, eating alone, checking out all these groups of people seemingly having a good time. I wondered why I wasn't in one of those groups. What kind of group would I even want to be involved with? I couldn't pick one out of the twelve or so tables that I'd eagerly want to engage with.

I've always been very social- but not very... tied? to a single group over another. As far back as I can remember I've been the intermediary, the entertainer, the mediator, the lone star. Sort of a drifter- sort of like Hermes (aka Mercury) from the Greek and Roman mythologies. Even while walking inside a group of people I deeply cared about, I always felt separate. I'd walk dead center amongst a group of people, and yet starkly by myself. It was not a choice I made, it was just always how I was- how I have been- how I am. Never once developing that kind of "I'm part of this group" mentality. I've had many, many social families, but it never became "I am from X, not Y or Z." Does that make sense? It was always "X, Y, Z- and everything else!" for me. So, sitting there in the middle of an empty table, I felt at peace because I was not with a particular group. I was alone and yet I was having lunch with the entire room. I started to feel better about my situation because, like everyone else, I was following what came natural to me. Nothing is worse than trying to fit into a place you don't- and nothing better than being where you're supposed to be.

Letting my mind wander from my social situation to the lifestyle I'd like to lead, some qualities occurred to me that I'd like to bring to my professional life.

(1) I'd like to travel- to have a home base to come to (and get grounded in) but I'd love the opportunity to travel the globe and get paid for it. I want to travel lightly. I don't want to have to bring a suitcase full of crap- I want to be able to carry everything I need. I want to live simply- vibrantly, with such greatness. I want to be able to create everything I need- to use the tools I've got.

(2) I want to meet with influential and knowledgeable people- leaders in their particular fields. I want to meet and deal with a variety of people from a multitude of backgrounds on a DAILY basis. Also, I want to have some kind of context to relate to them with- some kind of purpose or shared project.

(3) I want to write. Lots. Often and with great enthusiasm. I want to become excellent at my craft. I want to be published. I want my work to be relevant.

(4) I want to be autonomous. I want the freedom to make my own decisions on what projects I work on and what I say about them. I want the personal liberty to go where I want and create what I want. I want to be well paid for that.

(5) I want my work to have practical application- to effect how things are done, instead of some kind of funky abstract that five academics read- I want to have my work easily accessible and, more importantly, I want to create things that are useful. I want to be useful. I want to solve real problems- not abstract ones.

(6) I want to be able to support those who matter to me. I want to have a solid and developed social/professional family that I can rely on. I want to set down some roots in a global tree- to have a wide network of people. I want to be able to adapt my tools to contextual problems wherever I go. I want to solve and deal with a variety of problems. I want to be the vanguard, the heavyweight- someone to initiate programs and develop them. I want to be able to go places I've never been and have tools that will serve me.

(7) I want to work long hours- all day if I can, doing what I love. I want going to work to be a joyful experience because that's the place I rather be- what I would rather be doing more than anything else. I want to start that soon.

Yes, yes, I want to start that soon. Yes please. As soon as I can. Let me do THAT. Whatever that is. However I do that- let me do that.

Fear

I need help

I know I've alienated most of my friends but for the love of god, I need someone to tell me that I matter to them. I'm manically depressed and I don't know how to ask for help other than posting these half-drunk blogs and hoping that someone will take the initiative.
It pains me every day to know that I've chased so many of my friends out of my life. I isolate myself, I'm flaky, and I keep strange hours, but -
I really need help.
I don't care if it's a facebook message, a simple text or a quick call. I just need to know that you care. Please. I'm begging you.
I know I post those long winded posts about bullshit philosophy- I frequently hide behind big words and complex messages. It's my attempt at something real. I'm freaking out right now because of how alone I feel. I don't feel like I've got a leg to stand on and...
It would-
Please.
Just drop me a line

the bob and weave

"After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were.
After the second, you see things as they are not.
Finally, you see things as they really are,
and that is the most horrible thing in the world."
-Oscar Wilde on absinthe
But is it not also the greatest? To unite those poles of the spectrum between horror and ecstatic bliss? To force those magnetic points together until your body quakes- and finally that stillness. Silence that's louder than cannon fire. That eminent point of all genius. Origin of all motion. That which catches even quicksilver.

Ohh~ to have a relationship with that feeling.

Knows to the grind

The essay I wrote got some feedback from my teacher. Her style is to record her voice instead of writing on paper- I got a 30 second clip saying she didn't understand anything and gave me a 60%.

Well.

Shit.

That's a hard crack for the ego. You know? The last paper- I mean the very last paper I wrote (for a different class) got the best score of all time. "On the verge of being graduate level" and then I get this. Thirty seconds and 60%.

I know the essay I turned in was crap this time around. I mean, I wasn't happy with it- I had gone to see three writing tutors and each gave me drastically different responses. I didn't get any two people who said the same thing as far as what direction I should take. It was a mess. I went bold. I tackled a subject that was pretty damn large for six hundred words.

At the same time, it was a topic central to what my teacher was trying to talk about- and she didn't understand any of it. Not a piece. I was hoping for something. At least one iddy biddy glimmer of recognition.

Nothing.

My frustration isn't that I got a shit grade- I'm mad because there wasn't a single person who could give me constructive feedback. But you know what? That shit works two ways.

I couldn't make sense out of what anyone else had said- and you know what? That means I have to work harder to write things that people can access easily. Return to simplicity. Work on the basics. Hash out the small stuff. Aight. Can do. Let's boogy.

Fuck it. Scrap the paper. I'll take my 60%. I'll talk to the teacher about it, sure, but not to fight. Chill. Let's roll onto the next one. Kick it into gear. Let's go. Just for the love of god, get me writing soon. Last time she gave us something like two months to write six hundred words, which is great if you have time to expand on a subject and contract it. I think it's a mistake to go for brevity right off the bat without really drawing something out. It's too easy to fuck up on a single word and drive the whole thing to bat shit. There's no room for elbows.

Do it live.

De Generate

Neurotic, disconnected, full of shame and painfully self aware. The feeling of being cheated- of being incapable. The desire to be somewhere other than where I am. It's a shit day.
Resentful of beautiful women and people who are able to put up with all this shit on a daily basis- simultaneously I want to destroy them. For being who they are, for being what they are. For promoting such pathetic conditions, I want to destroy them. Being angry at myself for being so willfully ignorant and wanting to hide from my daily condition. Yet facing it seems equally horrible.
Shit. I wouldn't want to read this.
The fuck do I want to say.

My situation may be shit at present, but it's also excellent. I could no more hope for strength without gravity than excellence without facing this horrible muck.

As for being a dumbshit spaz, I say fuck you. I won't tolerate all this self destructive horseshit. I won't degrade myself like this. I'll promote self-compassion. And while I may remain a neurotic fuck, I'll be one that doesn't run from my situation. Here's to bravery in the syphilitic pit which is modern education. Here's to honesty in a culture who's ridden with self-doubt. Here's to compassion, knee deep in the pig pen. Here's to unrequited self love, to unconditional creativity and absolute victory against all enemies.

I may be a degenerate mongoloid without friends, but my future is brighter than ever. What brilliant colors! What absolute beauty! What amazing grace has taken over this opium den! With rapture, I turn filth into gold and the most devout sinner into a beautiful gem of this world, clothed in pure white.

I accept who I am and the conditions I live in- more than that- I love the daily challenge. I am in ecstatic bliss at the struggles that stick so loyally. What a blessing to live in this place. What true and perennial love has sent me these trials in hopes that I would face them? Whatever force put me in this place- here amongst the shit- I thank it. Thank you for the trust to face these issues. Thank you for the chance to practice this divine alchemy. Thank you for the courage, the patience, the loving compassion and the daily rage I sit in that focuses my eyes firmly upon this goal.

Thank you for placing me in the path of destruction. Thank you for the myriad weapons that pierce my breast daily. Thank you for heartbreak, and difficulty, and my irreverence that has served to teach me what's important.

A thousand blessings to every force that tries to destroy me. I live in peace because of them.

To be or not to be.

I'm scared. So terribly scared.
I want to hide.
And yet-

there is something worth doing.
A single thing.
So simple- a friendship.
A friendship with myself.
This is worth doing.

I don't feel good,
but at least I have the chance...
to BE good.

To be or not to be-
that ain't even the question.

Rapt

Shifty Morals

While personal morality can be thought of as proper behavior, communities develop a moral set due to what’s functional for them. While we’re all the same species and have all the same basic forces acting on us, we come up with drastically different sets of morals because of changes in context. Our context determines what kind of issues we have to solve and, more importantly, how we need to address them. For example, the use of children in the workplace has historically been a controversial issue, like within manufacturing plants or coal mines for the sake of cheap labor. However in the case of a family ranch, having children help may be essential to the survival of the ranch, simultaneously educating the child and creating a stronger family bond. A long-term view is required to assess survivability because some communities might create enthusiasm and look promising, but actually have a bad track record or become unable to fulfill their promises.

Conversely, the universe formed due to the consequences of physical laws. Stars, planetoids and the arrangement of orbiting patterns all formed because of these laws. Just as the static of the radio seems random, every little blip or fizz has an origin somewhere. What we call “random,” we often mean to call “of an unknowable source.” Similarly, lower levels of math are very exact, while higher levels make numbers impossible to pinpoint.

The same consequential forces that created the Earth are the same organizational principals that drive biological evolution. As our solar system developed as part of the Milky Way galaxy, our planet Earth was being composed by those ‘accidental’ physical laws. After it cooled considerably at the surface, torrential flooding occurred and eventually created the context that would support life. It was in the nutrient-rich pools of an approx. ten billion year old Earth that life started developing which followed the same accidental physical laws of events previously, but at a much faster time scale. Complex structures could be built faster due to biological cooperation.

As it turns out, biological cooperation has survival value basically because two types of cells (or cellular components) working together can produce more effective behavior than either cell alone- this creates increasing complexity like multicellular organisms as well as increasingly diverse combinations. With more combinations of cells, you get greater deviance of ability with what they can do. While each combination will be adhering to contextual functionality, its actions will differ greatly from another similar combination if it’s within a separate context. Increasingly complex organisms vie for resources and the ones with the greatest fitness survive to reproduce.

I once heard the saying that there are no straight lines in nature which I interpret as saying that everything is prone to change. I believe that our personal and collective sense of morality is developed in reaction to the physical world we live in and will continue to change over time.

Worth it

I caught myself today. I was sitting at the computer desk with a (strong) drink in my hand and I was yelling at my cousin in the same tone and style my dad used to. Some shit just isn't worth passing on. I walked out side, took a breath, tossed the drink and went back inside. I'm finding that being emotionally vulnerable is enjoyable in some ways. It's weird, after I've alienated all my friends and basically destroyed my social life, strangers off the street will come up and tell me how awesome I am. It's like they cheer me on. I don't know if that happens to anyone else, but fuck. How cool is that? I don't get much of a gray zone. It seems like either everyone is my friend or nobody is. I guess I've still got a lot of emotional work to do. My report card used to be all A's and F's. Seems like it's still that way. Guess that's not so bad.

ILLIGNOBLE

Illignoble is a good word.

I started with the word IGI, which is sort of the middle of ORIGIN. I've been playing around with the idea of 'origin' for the last couple days. Finally I asked myself what kind of origin I had. It's an interesting idea after all.

Ill. Sick. Amazing. Awesome. An amazing origin. Beyond family or community- but of the fabric of the universe itself. A product of your ultimate context, which, ultimately, is ultimate. Hah. I am of amazing origins. A member of the universal family. Brother to the stars and the celestial bodies.

ILL IGI... illigi. Cool. Sounds like illegal, sort of.

But then I thought... wait, if I'm of amazing origins, which is the same origin as everything else, isn't that also kind of common? The word 'ignoble' means that you're from a common ancestry. Something along the lines of 'that which is not special'- something that is not noble, which is kind of separate from everyone else.

I started playing around with positioning of letters and landed at...

ILLIGNOBLE.

Of amazing common ancestry.

A person of illignoble ancestry is amazing because they are of the common fabric. Which is to say that the exceptional person- the noble person- the person who believes they are separate is also illignoble. It's not quite an entitlement thing, but something to recognize. You can't work towards becoming illignoble, you can't be born illignoble or marry into it. Being illignoble is the same as being anything. In fact, you were illignoble before you were you. Before you were born. You were illignoble before the universe began.

Amazing for the simple fact of being. It is of the every-day miracle. The only way to deal with being illignoble is to recognize that you're already amazing. Everything I do is illignoble. I can do nothing other than being illignoble. It is not a choice. It is the condition of every particle in the known galaxy. Rivers and streams are illignoble, so are mountains, and thieves, and killers, and dirty socks, and rocket ships, and broken bottles, and that feeling you get when a firework explodes on the fourth of July. All emotion is the expression of being illignoble. All artwork, science, history- every expression is a reflection of being illignoble.

Every piece of art reflects my lifestyle. Every work of music, every emotion, every moment.

I AM ILLIGNOBLE.

Will to Live

I'm tired.
Tired of fighting to come up with the words.
Of being so damned self-critical.
Walking down the street and finding that it's easier to break a person down for what they're doing wrong than finding what they're doing right.
I'm tired of the pauses. The gaps that I stumble over. Fucking tired of being afraid about doing the wrong thing. I'm fucking tired of wondering what's next. I hate the baggage of my history- the guilt of not having done anything worthy- and more than that, the fear of attempting anything worth doing.
I'm sick over that feeling. Insanity is attempting the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Who can escape that definition. Immersed in a soup of it. Our culture breeds insanity. That's our greatest export.

I can do better.
I have to do better.
I will do better.

In this moment I recognize that it's difficult for me to accept the truth. It's easy to talk about what "people" do- implied- what -other- people do, and very difficult to talk about what -I- do. In this moment I recognize the pain of suffering from my own insanity. It seems I find myself in that kind of state when the desire to FEEL better exceeds the desire to BE better. If that isn't ironic... That the desire to feel better causes sickness.

I think that self-obsession, self-reflection that isn't honest, exists only to hide true problems. Another form of mental masturbation. I run around in circles because the alternative is too painful. Intellectually I know that a half-life is not one half of a life, but no life. Being half living is worse than having lived and died, yet it's difficult for me to accept that in practice. It seems that is born because I'm ignorant of what's important. Not enough practice. I don't know how to do that.

But I will do it.
In this moment I feel alive. In this moment I feel healthy and on the path to becoming whole again. Sometimes strangers will tell me "whatever you're doing, keep it up" as if they see something unidentifiable, something that refuses to die, something that might just remind them of that spirit in all of us. If there's a single part about me I've never questioned, it's that feeling. That's the only thing I truly love. That urge to live- to fight.

And so I will.

Fight.

Myriad Forms

Heavy

I'm afraid to try and fail... I guess that's what keeps most at bay. If not for myself, I'll do it For those poor reactionary bastards. Who can't think for themselves. Who can never act. God, I wish I could max out my squat today. Instead, I'll max something else. I'll lift some poor bastard's spirits. And in this way, I'll hop from one max to the next. And I'll never have to lift light weights again.

Resolute. Pt. 2

There's a stillness after you've done what's needed.
Nothing to be said; the work speaks for itself.
Without being seen, or heard, it's felt.
Beyond feeling, it's known beyond knowing.
Experienced like the movement of the earth.
In relation to something else,
Like the clouds,
Or the stars,
Like beams of light, bent
Against that invisible thing-
Gravity.
And so you grind, grind, grind.
And push against that invisible thing.
Get that weight up. Grind, grind, grind.
Discrimination
Between what's important
And...
And the perpetual feeling
Of having missed your exit.

Better than avoiding that horrible feeling-
Better than dodging bullets-
Better than simply fighting to stay above water-

Grind, grind, grind.
Get that weight up.

You meet that horrible feeling.
And you endure.

Resolute.

This world overwhelmed by mental afflictions is incapable of accomplishing its own self-interest. Therefore, I must do it for them. I am not as incapable as the world is. Therefore, with an unswerving mind, I shall bring disaster to adversity. I should overcome everything and not be overcome by anything.

Ch7 The Perfection of Zeal, A Guide To the Bodhisattva Way Of Life by Shantideva Bodhisattva

Resolute.

Put more weight on the bar. Grind, grind, grind. Get it up. Discrimination Between what's important And... And the perpetual feeling Of having missed your exit. Get it up. Grind, grind, grind. Put more weight on the bar. There's a stillness after you've done what's needed. Nothing to be said; the work speaks for itself. Without being seen, or heard, it's felt. Beyond feeling, it's known. Experienced like the movement of the earth. In relation to something else, Like the clouds, Or the stars, With beams of light across the vast darkness. There's a subtle perception. Smaller than an electron, It contains uncountable galaxies. Put more weight on the bar. Get it up. Grind. Grind. Grind.

By the way

Cultivation

I want just a little bit more freedom. I want a little bit more strength. A little more grace, just a touch more wisdom, a smidgin more of whatever I had yesterday. I want a little bit more freedom- not from some machete wielding Nigerian rebel, or some fat-cat politician, I don't seek freedom from some oligarchical knights-templar-illuminati boogieman. Nah. I want violence- true revolution. I picked up a book of the history of weaponry. As long as the human race has been living close enough to strike each other, we've been making tools to make that easier. How can TRUE violence- true deviance from our dysfunctional history- how can that ever unite with the petty, lesser violence of men? How can a revolutionary take up petty violence and claim it as greater violence?

I will destroy you with a smile. With a smile I've brought about more violence than some slashing, gnawing, impulsive terror can cause in an eon. I want freedom from the cause of ignorance. I want education instead of learning- better still, I want to bring my revolution to the core of education.

"There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root."

"If, then, we would indeed restore mankind by truly Indian, botanic, magnetic, or natural means, let us first be as simple and well as Nature ourselves, dispel the clouds with hang over our own brows, and take up a little life into our pores." Thoreau, Walden (both quotes)

I seek true work, not mere employment. If I'm to employ myself, it will be towards the ends I've mentioned. Money alone cannot buy revolution. It seems to me that everything I want in this life exists in a world outside the reach of finance. I see many men working hard, but I see few working smart. I see many call themselves wealthy, and yet they all live in the poorhouse of the spirit. I've only got compassion to the man who suffers from such excesses of the wallet and such deficiencies of the spirit, for that kind of wealth enables him merely to destroy his peace of mind.

I myself am the only one capable to cause true revolution.
That is what I will set myself towards.
And like a beast of the field, I'll set my plow into the earth and like the farmer behind it, I will plant the seeds that will best afford me a magnificent harvest.

I'll not worry about Monsanto or the city planning department or any other bureaucrat or impediment of progress because all truly great fields, all truly great actions and developments are beyond them. In this way I'll build an entire city of shimmering quicksilver and plant the entire civilization it in the cracks of their foundation. By cultivating greatness I'll unearth the basis of ignorance. I'll become the Banyan tree, or some great evergreen Cyprus tree, and in this way, tear up the earth.

Victory

All victory is my victory.
All failure is my failure.

A Guide to the Bodhisattva Way of Life, The Perfection of Zeal

50. This world overwhelmed by mental afflictions is incapable of accomplishing its own self-interest. Therefore, I must do it for them. I am not as incapable as the world is.
54. Therefore, with an unswerving mind, I shall bring disaster to adversity. For as long as I am conquered by adversities, my desire for victory over the three worlds is ludicrous.
55. I should overcome everything and not be overcome by anything. I should acquire this self-confidence, for I am a Child of Lions, the Jinas.
62. One should diligently apply oneself to the action in which one engages. Intoxicated by that action, one should be of an insatiable mind, like one striving for the satisfaction of the result of a game.

Things I Forget

I hide in my formalism. Self-care is the most revolutionary act.

Puh-Pum Puh-Pum

There are things worse than death. Half-life. Silent agony. There are things better than mere living. Isn't it funny then that the threat of true life can send a person into half-living? I shall endeavor to follow no law that offends that law I find written on my heart.




To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.

Err on the side of GTFO

Sometimes people accuse me of not being serious enough.
Oh, my mistake. You see, I took it as a farce, whilst you took it as a tragedy.
This tragic comedy gets the best of us all, so it looks.


Joke 'em if they can't take a fuck.

Twine

Chapter 74, Tao Te Ching: If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you aren't afraid of dying, there is nothing you can't achieve. Trying to control the future is like trying to take the master carpenter's place. When you handle the master carpenter's tools, chances are that you'll cut your hand.

Connect the Dots

Capacity to Endure

If sustainability is, well, sustainable... (long pause) why is such a major selling point the idea of government tax breaks and subsidies. I mean, if you're genuinely sustainable... the fuck you need the government to help supplement you? It's supposed to be the definition of "does not need subsidies" and fucking yet... I read recently this little GEMSTONE. "If the government is to play a positive role in sustainability, it needs to become the carrot." The carrot is sustainability, you potato-head. Is anyone else seeing this? It's a green-wash. With all the talk about 80 MPG electric whatever and compost and personal gardens and halogen lamps and a cat that eats his own turds. Like, what's the BFD. This is not sustainable. This makes me, and some cats, very ill. Yeah, eat your vegetables.

In Sickness and Health

If your motivation is to avoid badness (suffering, failure, whatever) then the best you can ever become is mediocre. It is a sickness in this country. So many institutions are infected with mediocrity. It's not acceptable. Find something worth dying for. Some great thing that's worth your time. Better yet, worth your blood, sweat and tears. Find something worth fighting for. THAT is life. So I'm caretaking for an elderly man. Everyone around him stresses survival. I stress life. This pisses a lot of people off. Instead of merely BEING ALIVE, I want him, others and myself, to LIVE. It's analogous to money, actually. Money is only as good as what you spend it on just as living (having life merely) is only as good as how you spend your life. If you spend your money trying to close your heart from the world, barricade yourself in your giant fucking house and fracture yourself into sickening little pieces, hoo fucking rah. You've just failed. Congratulations, you're rich and totally fucking stupid. Hurray, you're alive- but only half-living. You're the walking dead. No, mediocrity isn't for me. I don't want to watch this sick show any longer. I seek greatness- and greatness will meet me.

Jamming Jnana Jackassery

What is Jnana Yoga?
!!!!! http://yoga108.org/pages/show/55-jnana-yoga-introduction !!!!!
Everything here has been taken from that website. FYI Jnana yoga is one of the four main paths of yoga and the most direct road to reach the goal described in the philosophy of advaita vedanta: Self-realization.

The Four Means to Salvation
The jnana yoga student should equip himself with the four means of salvation in order to be fit to receive the knowledge of Brahman. These four means are called Sadhana Chatushtaya.

The student can work on these practices all at once or serially. For example starting with the first one for a week or two, or for a month, then proceeding with the second one for the same period of time, and so on.

Sadhana Chatushtaya
These four means are:

Viveka
Viveka means discrimination. This is the intellectual ability to discriminate, or discern, between the real and the unreal. Vedanta defines the real as being permanent and the unreal as being temporary. The absolutely real, Brahman, is eternal. It lasts for ever.

Vairagya
Vairagya means dispassion, detachment. There is a logical order in the four means. After sufficient practice of viveka, the temporary, ephemeral nature of the world and its objects becomes obvious and a natural lack of attraction to them takes place. This is vairagya. One should then endeavor to become more dispassionate in order to purify the mind and improve one's concentration and steadiness of mind.

Shad-sampat
Shad-sampat means the six virtues. This practice actually consists in developing six qualities or virtues. They are:

Sama - Tranquility or control of mind. Calmness. This is the ability to keep the mind within and unaffected by the external world.

Dama - Control of the senses. This consists in not letting the senses run out towards the sense objects. To the question, "Why do we need to control the senses when we can directly work on sama and control the mind itself - the mind being superior and more powerful than the senses?", the vedantins answer: If one were able to control the mind perfectly, dama would be unnecessary, otherwise it is a more powerful strategy to work on the mind apparatus from all sides.

Uparati - Renunciation of activities which are not duties. Following the last two practices, the mind is so peaceful and calm most desires have been eradicated and there is no more reason to perform the activities in which most people indulge. Swami Sivananda beautifully expressed this practice in his famous motto: "Simple living, high thinking."

Titiksha - Endurance, forbearance of the pairs of opposites. The mind must become strong enough to not waver in the face of the opposites: success and failure, hot and cold, pleasure and pain, sunshine and rain, etc.

Shraddha - Faith. It is defined by Sri Sankaracharya as faith in one's guru, god, the self (atman) and the scriptures (shastras).

Samadhana - Perfect concentration, one-pointedness of the mind. It takes a great degree of mastery to reach this level. Few reach it.


Mumukshutva
Mumukshutva means intense longing for liberation. When this stage is reached, moksha (liberation ) is not one of the jnani's desires, it is not even the biggest desire, it is the ONLY desire.

"An Ounce of Practice is Worth Tons of Theory"

So said Swami Sivananda. Sadhana chatushtaya is the foundation of the practice of jnana yoga. It is of paramount importance for the beginner and no one is too advanced for these important qualifications.
Good practice!

Dog Party Morality

Today I saw a dog party. Yeah, a party for dogs. A dog birthday party. For dogs. With dogs. About dogs. It's a dog party.

There were about, oh, I don't know, twenty people and something like six dogs (wearing birthday hats and pink ribbons). Most were bulldogs- one had it's nails painted. Rich family, ugly fucking dogs. Anyway.

The family, in their sun hats and sun dresses and oversized sunglasses... were drinking champagne. Five bottles worth. They had reserved a huge table, effectively taking up all the space on the patio at this restaurant. There were presents for dogs and bowls of water and little children coming up to pet the dogs... dog party. Yeah, ok. Established.

What I wanted to write about- and what was really interesting about this whole event, was that the dogs would occasionally fight. You've got this huge fucking bulldog with painted nails and a pink harness with little pink bows and this obnoxious party hat, and he's fucking chasing this tiny dog around the patio. He's growling and barking and knocking important-looking shit over everywhere.

And here you find the coolest thing in the fucking world. I'm telling you. Here it is.

No matter how much you dressed up these fucking bulldogs, they were still animals. No matter how well fed they were, no matter what you tried to do to them to make them into your little, cute animal toys, they were still ANIMALS. And animals have this instinct- and so you get this growling and barking and ... you see? That, to me, is beautiful. One of the most beautiful things.

No matter how much the family would like to have those ugly fucking dogs act like animated pillow pets, they couldn't escape animal-fucking-nature (neither dogs or people). Animal nature happens to be geared towards what works. Not what you'd like to have happen, not what you've paid for or worked towards- all the artificial shit dies.

If morality is the whole idea of "what should be done" then everything is all geared towards "being moral." All the human beings and ridiculously pampered, over glamorized pets- as well as rocks, mountains, oceans, space dust... all have to follow what works. No matter how many purple bows or other useless fancy shit. Universe just don't bend over because you painted your dogs nails. Don't work that way.

The highest human paradox is the urge to want something other than what is. It's like, instead of celebrating the fact that we're animals, so many of the members of our species try to fight that fact. We should be celebrating! We are the product of amazing universal space shit! We're the little coalesced carbon blobs of exploded stars! HOW FUCKING AMAZING IS THAT?! And yet, some of these amazing blobs of carbon and hydrogen rather watch the Kardashians than sit in awe and wonder of the world they live in daily.

It's a beautiful thing to realize that life tends towards what works. Even if that means the majority of the population is as dumb as rocks, those rocks improve over the course of a single human lifetime. Just remember it took prokaryotes a few billion years to get their shit together and form multi-cellular organisms. Hell, I could form a chess club in an afternoon. So, in relation to the development of the history of the known world, even your eggo-head of a neighbor is doing pretty swell.

So, you know, in conclusion, or whatever...
Do what works.



Because it's the fucking best thing ever.
(all the cool biological systems are doing it)





OH! This also means that the laws governing ... fucking... volcano shit and, like, plate tectonics and like, blueberry muffin mix... are the same laws that govern snobby fucking kids with ugly fucking dogs.

That's the coolest.

This has been another episode from the strangeness that is the world we live in. (which is, incidentally, totally fucking rad)

Unmovable object. Unstoppable force.

It's the fundamental paradox. You want X and to avoid Y, except you need Y to get X. Failure to resolve this paradox can be seen with a simple example. Have you ever known someone who is so obsessed with the technicalities of language that it makes it difficult for them to express themselves? It's the feeling of wanting to FEEL correct over BEING correct. Failure to resolve this paradox is seen when a person wants their particular method to be correct more than they want to do the correct thing.

It's the basic meaning behind the image of Yamataka, the indestructible destroyer of death.



Fuck, I love that image.

People who have met with this paradox without resolving it speak of a place within themselves that they can never go. A place that would destroy them if they went (into it, explored it, opened it up, whatever). And uh, it would. But it wouldn't destroy them. It doesn't make sense until you explore that place and it's not the kind of decision you can really make just sitting on the couch or whatever. It's an experience. You can reach that place a number of ways, including meditation- but it's not a choice one can make without significant risk. Actually, if you don't see the risk, then you're a total fucking idiot and you're probably going to die.

Bravery is being scared and doing it anyway. You've got to realize what you've got to lose... and then you've got to do it because what it represents is worth more than mere survival.

You've got to see something worthwhile beyond death. Something beyond your own life that is worth working towards.

That's the greatest thing in the world. It's also the most terrible.

So uh... let's boogy.

Motherfucker. Check it.

http://www.yamantaka.org/component/content/article/1-vajrabhairava-yamantaka-an-introduction.html

BIG SUR MOTHERFUCKERS

Tomorrow, a drive up the coast. I need that. I shall have that.

Minority Elect

So today I bought a red '88 Toyota Corolla. On my 30 minute drive back from the DMV I overtook a Corvette and made him sit behind me for five miles.
WHO GOT GAME NOW?
I think I'm going to get a bumper sticker that says "Thug Life." The Corolla was keyed all along one side and it looks like someone tried to touch it up with red paint. I joke that it's a flame decal. So far, no one is buying it (except me, hah!).

I'm worn down from criticism. As I can figure it, fuck you. I'm going to do awesome. I'm going to fail. Lots. But I've got tenacity and that's what I'm going to exploit. When I was a kid, my friends and I would pretend fight. I was always the last one standing. Not because I was bigger or stronger or faster or anything. I just had more fight in me than anyone else. I've got that and I'm going to use it.

Thug life.

(VERY FEW PEOPLE KNOW THAT THE ORIGINAL GREEK TRANSLATION OF "APOCALYPSE" MEANS "LIFTING OF THE VEIL" OR "REVELATION" ... A DISCLOSURE OF SOMETHING HIDDEN FROM THE MAJORITY OF MANKIND IN AN ERA DOMINATED BY FALSEHOOD AND MISCONCEPTION.)

(FAR FROM BEING A HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE, APOCALYPSE REPRESENTS THE REVEALING OF THE TRUE NATURE OF THINGS. IT USHERS IN AN ERA OF FORGOTTEN FREEDOMS AND UNPRECEDENTED CLARITY. THIS "LIFTING OF THE VEIL" WILL SET US FREE FROM THE MISERY THAT HAS BEEN THE RESULT OF OUR IGNORANCE.)





I think I'll vote in this upcoming election.
For myself.





...

Oh, that was good.

Incidentally, my worst days are also my best.

---

I've been described as erudite and sophisticated but it's all crap. I think the words I say are shit as soon as I say them. Worse still, my actions. I do nothing of use. I'm dysfunctional with empty aspirations and lofty ideas of how things work. If I knew how things worked, I would work myself. But I don't. So I must not know.

The fuck do I know. Nothing. My ideas are as airy and tired as their container. I have no friends close by, I've got no emotional support group. No group of peers I actively meet with. I'm depressed and I feel constantly alone. Worse still, I don't know how to act in a way to bring me out of this place.

But that is the only thing left to do. Work.
So that is what I will do.
Do work.

Adamantine Terrifier

Yamataka (imaged above), or Vajrabhairava, is a wrathful manifestation of the buddha of wisdom, Manjushri. (Tibetan Buddhsim)

As the story goes, Manjushri was chilling out on a lotus with his gin and juice, laid back- with his mind on his money and his money on his mind. You know how it is. As buddhas are sometimes known to do, he decided to up and have himself an adventure. He grabbed his flaming sword (that he uses to destroy all dualistic thinking), jumped into his pimp ride and cruised over to Yama's house (the god of death). Manjushri got super pissed that Yama said something about his mother and so he transformed into Yama's form and multiplied himself a million times, scaring the god of death ... to death. Then he poured out an ounce for the homies and split.

Manjushri, in his more chilled out form, is the kind of person to put a flaming sword to the Lord Buddha's neck to prove a point. Don't worry children, Lord Buddha don't sweat nothing.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.

Glorious or Tragic

. . .

. . .

(I want none of your leaping and dancing now)


... So, you know, there's that.

And Churches

... But This One Goes To 11

Wildness How

If I am to be allowed to quote Albert Camus with certain liberties. All the words are his, the arrangement is partially mine (some punctuation has also changed).

"I cannot know unless I pursue.

All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning.
But one day the "why" arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement. "Begins" --this is important. Weariness comes at the end of the acts of a mechanical life, but at the same time it inaugurates the impulse of consciousness.
You explain this world to me with an image. I realize then that you have been reduced to poetry. So that science that was to teach me everything ends up in a hypothesis, that lucidity founders in metaphor, that uncertainty is resolved in a work of art. I realize that if through science I can seize phenomena and enumerate them, I cannot, for all that, apprehend the world.

To will is to stir up paradoxes but that very difficulty deserves reflection."

I began today with a question. It's a question that's bothered me for a long time.
Wildness, how?
I've repressed my personality for a long time. I continue to do so. I wish to say this simply- to be conscious of such a thing is hell. Yet worse is to be unconscious of such a thing- to have an ailment without an understanding of it is much worse. I once heard that if you have a toothache, knowing why it aches doesn't help soothe the pain. Knowing you will survive it does. "This too shall pass" has been one of the things that has kept me alive during periods of deep depression.

It's made my struggle with repression into a beautiful thing, if only in retrospect. To return to that question...

Wildness how?

How do you create wildness? It's a problem poorly defined. Wildness isn't created, it's allowed. Repression is created. It's like trying to open your hand by holding tighter. It's the fundamental human problem, in my opinion.

Wildness how?

What a beautiful thing.
Every day, incredible.

(source for images unavailable)

The Legend of Pan

A drive towards the ultimate.
The need to produce the inferior...

"Alas, human vices, however horrible one might imagine them to be, contain the proof (were it only in their infinite expansion) of man's longing for the infinite; but it is a longing that often takes the wrong route. It is my belief that the reason behind all culpable excesses lies in this deprivation of the sense of the infinite."

A drive towards the inferior.
The need to produce the ultimate...

A wise man once told me if I possessed amazing intelligence I could learn without the need to suffer the lesson. I am not incredibly smart. I endure.

At least I have that.

"I would that your bosom, fragrant with health,
Were constantly the dwelling place of noble thoughts,
And that your Christian blood would flow in rhythmic waves

Like the measured sounds of ancient verse,
Over which reign in turn the father of all songs,
Phoebus, and the great Pan, lord of harvest."

Both quotes were from Charles Baudelaire,
the second was an excerpt
from The Sick Muse

Laughing at the Darkness:

The Seriousness in Comedic Dissent
      "Comedy, we have to admit, was never one of the most honoured of the Muses. She was in her origin, short of slaughter, the loudest expression of the little civilization of men" (15). So says Victorian-era English poet and novelist George Meredith. Comedy acts as a cultural indicator, as an elevation from stress, a dissenting force from authority, a method of ridicule, a way to highlight an issue and a vulgar expression of personal urges. Comedy, while having very many applications, can be used to incite important change during very dire and trying circumstances. It is because we exist in a world that is filed with strife and hardship that we need a seriously comedic response. All life ends in death- that is to say that there are no lasting actions in this world for a living being and that all struggle is just that, struggle. It is to this challenge that the true comic tries to address through the meeting of polar opposites as seen by the mixture of the always-laughing playboy and the never-laughing killjoy. Howard Jacobson, comic novelist and winner of the prestigious Man Booker prize explains during an interview called "The Return of the Wry" that the birth of comedy is the very same as the birth of tragedy. He explains that we enjoy things because they are invariably linked to their demise. If we (mortal men and women) were locked in a state of constant suspension from suffering, there would be nothing to rejoice and that would be an intolerable experience, somewhat akin to limbo. Therefore, to be successful in meeting these challenges, we must employ a kind of serious comedy that both aims to accomplish a goal and simultaneously ridicules itself and the situation with a dissenting merriment.
      As mentioned before, it is because we deal with difficult problems that we must laugh at them. In "Laughing All the Way to Freedom?: Contemporary Stand-Up Comedy and Democracy in South Africa", author Julia Katherine Seirlis tells a narrative of the struggles of South Africa during a period of racial separation known as apartheid, and the effects on stand-up comedians. Under apartheid, a comedian or any person critical of the government was jailed and/or beaten. Nelson Mandela, a comedian in his own right that laughs in the face of adversity, was part of "the struggle" which ended apartheid and started a new era of democracy in South Africa. Even in a democratic South Africa, it is still a very dangerous place to live. It is from this danger that South African comedians feel they have a right and an obligation to laugh about their situations. Comedian John Vlismas mocks the total lack of danger in Australia:

"Australians have no natural predators. Nothing. I went to a game park and said, 'Show me a vicious beast. In my country, we have savage monsters: rhinos, buffalos, PAGAD. Vicious. Dangerous. I want to see a flatulent fanged foaming at the mouth'- and he showed me a wombat. This isn't a beast. I've got Nigerian friends. A wombat is not a beast. It looks like a Care Bear came home drunk and pomped a slipper."

It's a point to note that PAGAD stands for People Against Guns And Drugs- a popular satiric reference to gangsters who use guns and drugs. This kind of humor is a total deviation from the seriousness of tragedy. During the interview with Howard Jacobson, he explains that when God casts Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, it symbolizes the basic tragic plot line, which is a fall from grace. Just as in many Greek tragedies a person or number of people aspire to rise above the toils and suffering of their low lives and end up having quite horrific things happen to them. In Howard's example, Adam and Eve are tempted by the fruit of Knowledge and because of this, they are cast out of the perfect garden. Comedy, contrastingly, is an acceptance of the world as it is and comedy often expresses this acceptance in it's vulgarity and body humor.
      Harry Levin is an emeritus professor of literature at Harvard University. In his essay "Playboys and Killjoys: An Essay on the Theory and Practice of Comedy" he asserts that the character of the killjoy is "the figure who seeks to block sex, youth, ... in general to arrest life's self-renewing autonomies. He is the potentially frightening but, in comedy, always futile agent of repressive authority, sterile formalism and legalism" (51). The playboy, the antithesis to the killjoy, is youthful, highly sexual (with emphasis on recreation over procreation), and celebrates folly, bodily functions and other sorts of "pointless" recreation. Levin and Jacobson simultaneously point out that neither by themselves are capable of understanding true comedy. It follows then, based on Jacobson's argument that comedy shares a source with tragedy, that neither the playboy or the killjoy could properly understand tragedy either. As Jacobson draws the comparison between living in the Garden of Eden and an intolerable life (similar to limbo without anything positive or negative about the world they live in), it would seem that a true comic must temper comedy with tragedy. Levin makes an important note that "The propensity towards ridicule seems to have been at it's strongest among the satirists in the Age of Reason" (50). This seems to be a strong support for the need of balance between reason and absurdity, that when one becomes prevalent, the other naturally rises to suppress it, to seek a natural harmony and to correct the system. Often, when the ruling favor is tipped towards rationality and structure, the laws that are enacted actually give power to dissent. A prime example of this is in "On the Uses of Obscenity in Live Stand-Up Comedy" by Susan Seizer. She asserts that the ban of foul language by the FCC changes certain language into a transgressive act, giving it power "in direct proportion to the extent to which they are cordoned off as taboo" (210). True and proper comedians, as outlined in this essay, must use both forces in balance while retaining both within themselves. Levin explains this balance where one side "generates satire, the latter alliance tends towards romance. Comedy is compounded of the interaction of the two, varying in its emphasis from one mode to the other" (96).
      We see, then, that comedy, proper comedy and not the playboy lightheartedness, as it's explained previously, doesn't aim to merely entertain or make light of the situation. Quite contrary, it seeks to address the dire and possibly life threatening circumstance with a balance of spritely wit and hard-nosed determinism. George Meredith sums up this balance by saying that "Genuine humor and true wit, require a sound and capacious mind, which is always a grave one" (15). It is with both of these tools that we, each of us true comedians, have the possibility to laugh at death and overcome overwhelming adversity. For without both, you have neither and are destitute in an unbearable world. Simply, to utilize merely foolishness or merely sternness would mean unsuccessful attempts towards one's aspirations. Levin highlights true comedy further with "The most protean aspect of comedy is its potentiality for transcending itself, for responding to the conditions of tragedy by laughing in the darkness" (132). The transcending properties of comedy are due to the "gestalten" nature of utilizing polar opposites towards a single goal. Gestalt is a German word that basically means the shape or figure of the whole with the important note that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The representation of the playboy mixed with the killjoy produces something that is beyond either of them individually. This is because individually neither is functional while both together are the near-definition of what it means to be functional. All things said and considered, in order to face off any great challenge of overwhelming proportions, we must meet, within ourselves, a balance of these two factors. Harry Levin called the combination the "Comic Spirit", which could almost be read as Cosmic Spirit because in the world of Nature as well as the work of man, there must be a balance of polar opposites. Cold and warm, up and down, black and white: none of these properties are capable of existing by themselves- none are functional alone and that would be the larger significance. This is a concept that is followed much farther than that of the South African comedian or the 17th Century English page. Without one, we can't have the other because each opposite is part of the same balance that all other life is held in, and that is truly something to laugh about in the dark.

Jacobson, Howard. "Return of the Wry" Sydney Writers Festival 2011: Web, Australian Broadcasting Corporation
Levin, Harry. "Playboys and Killjoys: An Essay to the Theory and Practice of Comedy." New York: Oxford UP 1987. Print.
Meredith, George. "An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit." The Pennsylvania State University 2003. Web.
Seirlis, Julia Katherine. "Laughing All The Way To Freedom?: Contemporary Stand-Up Comedy And Democracy In South Africa." Humor: International Journal of Humor Research 24.4 (2011): 513-530. Academic Search Premier. Web.
Seizer, Susan. "On the Uses of Obscenity in Live Stand-Up Comedy." Anthropological Quarterly 84.1 2011. 209-234. Academic Search Premier. web.

I can see my house from here!

As I suppress myself less (all good things in time), I become more sensitive. I'm 1,000x more creative- I've taken up sculpting, charcoal drawing, pastels, pen and paper- I write more. I've even rearranged my furniture so it gives me more space to do these things. I'm happier. I've got a million times more energy but I've noticed something else...
I'm unsubscribing from most of my friends on facebook. I've got much less interest in what other people say. I've got far less tolerance for people who've got particular kinds of hang-ups. I'm actively shutting out things I've already learned from. Moving on.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I dig it. I dig it soo good.

I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell. —Harry Truman

Handwriting

I was going through an old journal and came to this...
On defying gravity: There is an idea out there that if you believe in something enough it will happen. No one has been able to prove this because no one actually believes it.
Fuck, my handwriting is messy. Hasn't gotten much better since, but fuck if it was messy before! I've heard that very intelligent people have sloppy handwriting and are prone to drinking. You know who else has those characteristics? Sloppy drunks. Anyway...

Needs Moar Pictures

Go.

Go

I've suppressed my personality for so long, I forgot what it was like to really live. I forgot the feeling of wildness. It's coming back, albeit slowly. Daily things are getting better, but at the same time, more difficult. I've forgotten the sensitivity- the way things just flood in, overwhelmingly. The fact that I need to be incredibly selective of who I spend time around- what kind of content I let in, what I watch, listen to, eat... It doesn't do any good to explain what it feels like. Either you don't need me to explain it or it wouldn't help. Talking doesn't help. Not about this.

A demand for training. A demand for discipline. It feels good to rev the engine again. A little basic maintenance- clear the cobwebs... I'll take a drive on the highway to really clear the engine. My god, how I look forward to that. A return to that which is most awesome. The demand for balance.

That command. I live for that feeling. To stand in the breeze and know exactly what I've got to do- and why. It's simple. Go. Right there. Do it. Simple, but fuck if it's easy. The most challenging thing I do. The most worthy thing. The most deserving.

Fuck, this feels good. I'll shut up now and just show you.

Fool

I'm a fool,
This much is true.
But I'm not so fatally ignorant
As those who outwardly
Chase the Carrot
But inwardly
Hope for the Stick.
I'm not as diminished as
Those who think that
Class begins at the Bell.
I'm not as neglectful as
Those who believe Work
Is done always in a Suit.

I'm a fool,
This much is true.
But I'm more alive
Than those who drink from the bottle
Instead of from the gnarled streams.

Because Fuck You

So I've been hanging out with a lot of old people. I've been taking care of my grandfather and when he's not chasing tail that I think is too young for me, he's hanging out with old folks. Sometimes his friends can be real bastards. One will make a snide remark towards me and I'll smile and chuckle. They might say something about me not standing up for myself or being a little slow or something like that but you know what?

Fuck you. You're going to die before me. You could spit and curse and poke fun- I'll still be there to mop you off the floor or remind you about your pills.

Because fuck you.

I will survive all you old fucks. It's my duty to continue on after you're all disgusting and buried, which means you're the least of my problems. If what you're saying doesn't help me do my job, you can eat a dusty cock. That goes for just about everyone. No matter what I do, correct or incorrect, I'm going to fucking do it. I'm going to fucking do it strong.

Because fuck you.

I don't recognize whackness.

Because fuck you.

Do.

It is a biological, sociological and historical fact that Man must aspire to something greater than himself. When one does not have a worthy endeavor, muscles atrophy, the spirit goes slack.
The gathering of early man for the purpose of survival, the grouping of a city-State, the Nation built around principals- having to overcome things such as differences of personal histories- working towards that worthy endeavor.

The Work. The Great Work.

So I sit here and wonder, how is it, knowing this, that I'm able to sit in the sun like I do, to loaf around as I do? How is it possible that I'm content with FEELING like I'm accomplishing something when I KNOW I'm not.

I'm a fan of good questions. Worthy questions. When answers come too quickly, they aren't often worthy. I've got to dig for it.

One of the most basic human problems. The paradox between wanting to FEEL well and wanting to BE well. Let's examine a related paradox to shed some light. "Change is the only constant" and yet we seem to gravitate (as a species) towards something to hang on to- some kind of constant we can lean on. A source of comfort.

How do we resolve this paradox? Become comfortable being uncomfortable.
Of course you can't actually do that, things that suck... well, they suck. That's why they call it that. The suck. Because it sucks. Get it?

I'm not going to write what I plan on doing.
I'll tell you when I've done it.

And again, and again, and...

No, I'm not smart. You see, if you don't learn a lesson, the same problem will keep coming up, over and over again. I keep hitting the same goddamn bumps. Dragged through the dirt.
Pick yourself up.
Pick yourself up.
Pick yourself up.
And I'm running again. Blaze of glory. Pillar of fire. Disregard for- oh shit. There it is again. That fucking bump in the road I keep hitting. Oh, I know that spot well- but not well enough.

It's a process of grinding it out and it certainly grinds me out. I hit the earth until I forget to drop and it becomes force of habit to avoid those pitfalls. My body moves by itself. It must be what those god-fearing people mean by putting faith in the lord. I put faith in that small part of myself to get back up. I rally that part of me.

As much as I've fucked up, as few of those lessons I've learned, I'm grinding this shit out daily. I wipe the taste of the floor out of my mouth with more of the floor. They say that Aikedo is the art of becoming one with the mat- onnacounta being thrown into it so many times. I certainly feel that. Sometimes things just flow- beyond any capability of my own devising. For a moment I'll do something beyond what I think I can do. Move without thinking.

I call that the clutch. It's what I live for. What cracks me up the most is that by TRYING to enter the clutch, I'm thrown onto the floor again. And again. And again. The beating is purifying, but it freaks me the fuck out. I don't know if I'll be able to get up after the next one. So I try to make excuses not to try. And I go on like that for a while until that becomes more intolerable than being crushed into the floor again. It doesn't take long. Twenty four hours of deep depression. Then I'm back, getting bludgeoned about by my own ignorance.

I don't know how to do this any better.
I don't know.
I don't know.

But some part of me still thinks I know.
And so I'm sure I'm going to take more beatings...
Until that part of me doesn't ask "How"
And instead, just fucking does it.

Here's to you, pavement. See you soon.
I'm a fuck up, but I'm an eager fuck up.
Let's do this.

The Clinging, FIRE

Question: How do I tolerate this incredible weight? How is it that I can pass from being overwhelmed and exhausted to using this energy in a harmonic way? How can I make the transition from this incredible burden where I cannot function to that incredible flow where action arrives by itself?

Answer from the book of changes: http://deoxy.org/iching/30
30. Li / The Clinging, Fire

A luminous thing giving out light must have within itself something
that perseveres; otherwise it will in time burn itself out...
The great man continues the work of nature in the
human world...
Activity and haste prevail. It is important
then to preserve inner composure and not to allow oneself to be swept along
by the bustle of life. If one is serious and composed, he can acquire the clarity
of mind needed for coming to terms with the innumerable impressions that
pour in...
Yellow light is therefore a symbol of the highest culture
and art, whose consummate harmony consists in holding to the mean...
To the
superior man it makes no difference whether death comes early or late. He
cultivates himself, awaits his allotted time, and in this way secures his fate...
A man who is excitable and
restless may rise quickly to prominence but produces no lasting effects. Thus
matters end badly when a man spends himself too rapidly and consumes
himself...
...one may put aside both hope and fear, and sigh and lament: if
one is intent on retaining his clarity of mind, good fortune will come from
this grief.
Evil must be cured at its roots.