In spite of what they say,
no one can love god.
Its like saying you love freedom, or music.
To love these things you have to open yourself up,
have to experiencethem,
to know them
& ultimately
to become them.
To love music is to feel it within you.
To love freedom is to practice it,
& give it,
& breathe it.
At this level god
is no longer deity,
no longer other,
no longer "god" but self.
And Vice Versa to know god
to experience and love god,
like music,
& freedom
"you" have to die.
Therefore:
"No one" loves god
or
No one loves "god."
How could you?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
spliting hairs
"Its a Quantum Universe & the problem is we're trying to see something, with out it knowing we're watching, because then it changes. And so we go about pretending not to be paying attention, not to be moved, when in fact we are moved, very deeply & care very much & are actually taking thousands of notes a minute & so the problem has become a question..."
"What question?"
"Well...when does pretending not to care become afraid of being seen? And when does science, the approach of 'pure science' actually become dissociative? Ever gone to a concert & everyone there loves the band, payed the cost of admission, chooses to stand there all night, but no-one's dancing?"
"Too many scientists on the dance floor?"
"Yeah....examining each other's cadavers."
"What question?"
"Well...when does pretending not to care become afraid of being seen? And when does science, the approach of 'pure science' actually become dissociative? Ever gone to a concert & everyone there loves the band, payed the cost of admission, chooses to stand there all night, but no-one's dancing?"
"Too many scientists on the dance floor?"
"Yeah....examining each other's cadavers."
life and give
A dead parying
mantis beside a rose garden
and a hornet
feeding off it & me
with out my camera
to take a picture
mantis beside a rose garden
and a hornet
feeding off it & me
with out my camera
to take a picture
Pause Ontology
Ginkgo leaves made
of rippings from tin.
Dark bird feathers
in parking lot
along the edges, with
the golden leaves &
butts of cigarette.
Pause Ontology
of rippings from tin.
Dark bird feathers
in parking lot
along the edges, with
the golden leaves &
butts of cigarette.
Pause Ontology
Coastal Apples
Coastal apples,
rich with mossey soil
the twitter of year-round birds
small & crisp
in the ocean
wind.
rich with mossey soil
the twitter of year-round birds
small & crisp
in the ocean
wind.
Change we can believe in
We are here for the great exhale
the last fifteen decades
have been a frenzied inhale
of industry
that turned into glutony
& now
there is water in the lungs of communism
and lead toys in the belly of democracy
we are here
to reap the exhale
&
draw
a
-new
the last fifteen decades
have been a frenzied inhale
of industry
that turned into glutony
& now
there is water in the lungs of communism
and lead toys in the belly of democracy
we are here
to reap the exhale
&
draw
a
-new
Alone, not alone
There is a lacking interest in engaging with other people,
in dialogue,
eye contact,
In the America's US.
Not disinterest, perhaps not lacking interest, but repressed,
repressed interest.
The interest is inherent in the human experience,
to want to see & be heard,
to hear and be seen,
to communicate
to engage. However,
there is a social conv-
ention,
arising from
complex dynamics of diversity &
clahings of culture coming together
in high-rate streets
& plolitics
& grocery stores
in bars,
a social convention of not wanting
to offend any one.
This is not the only con-
versation, obivously,
there are others,
as diverse as the culture(s) they
arise from,
some antithetical to this,
none-the-less
there is the convention.
& I see
it is rooted, not so much
in a desire
to be good
always,
but to not be
alone,
to not be left,
physically, energetically,
to not be alone creates the very social convention
which perpetuates
that feeling,
this sense
of the Issolated
American Public
divided by oceans
from their ancestry,
& even in crowds
unable to reach out
for fret of being pushed away
in a concert,
in a bar,
of not being recieved,
or of being recieved
and then made to feel
inferior,
other,
not
met with curiosity
& warmth,
but a cold, civil shoulder.
The insight arose
not from such an
experience,
but rather its opposite,
in a restaurant,
when a waitress
brings a little girl
a heaping dish
of cake
&
the parent's eyes widen
as she overcomes her own
astonishment in a single glimpse
& draws the plate towards her,
her smile growing large around new teeth.
They smile too and notice me
noticing them
& our smiles deepen
& I look away
to not make the little girl self conscious,
before she notices me,
from their cue,
I looked away;
she is happy they are
happy & there is cake.
And in the moments between
I could see the social convention
we were breaking
as it was
part of the smiles.
As the waitress
brings our box my fiance mentions
that she "is
all alone
today
on the serving floor."
"I'm always alone,"
the waitress agrees.
in dialogue,
eye contact,
In the America's US.
Not disinterest, perhaps not lacking interest, but repressed,
repressed interest.
The interest is inherent in the human experience,
to want to see & be heard,
to hear and be seen,
to communicate
to engage. However,
there is a social conv-
ention,
arising from
complex dynamics of diversity &
clahings of culture coming together
in high-rate streets
& plolitics
& grocery stores
in bars,
a social convention of not wanting
to offend any one.
This is not the only con-
versation, obivously,
there are others,
as diverse as the culture(s) they
arise from,
some antithetical to this,
none-the-less
there is the convention.
& I see
it is rooted, not so much
in a desire
to be good
always,
but to not be
alone,
to not be left,
physically, energetically,
to not be alone creates the very social convention
which perpetuates
that feeling,
this sense
of the Issolated
American Public
divided by oceans
from their ancestry,
& even in crowds
unable to reach out
for fret of being pushed away
in a concert,
in a bar,
of not being recieved,
or of being recieved
and then made to feel
inferior,
other,
not
met with curiosity
& warmth,
but a cold, civil shoulder.
The insight arose
not from such an
experience,
but rather its opposite,
in a restaurant,
when a waitress
brings a little girl
a heaping dish
of cake
&
the parent's eyes widen
as she overcomes her own
astonishment in a single glimpse
& draws the plate towards her,
her smile growing large around new teeth.
They smile too and notice me
noticing them
& our smiles deepen
& I look away
to not make the little girl self conscious,
before she notices me,
from their cue,
I looked away;
she is happy they are
happy & there is cake.
And in the moments between
I could see the social convention
we were breaking
as it was
part of the smiles.
As the waitress
brings our box my fiance mentions
that she "is
all alone
today
on the serving floor."
"I'm always alone,"
the waitress agrees.
We all Die
They like to say that we are all dying. I agree that we all die, but I do not think this is the state of things. I do not think life is just a progression to ward death.
They say that in our lives, all, we are dying. Like fruit in a basket, ripening toward rotting. And I can see why. Like an orange, alone, we do not appear to have any branch back to heaven, no strings attached to our creator,that might connect us. We seem to have been separated as the fruit from the tree. As the evidenced in The Fall. Even for those of us who do not identify as Christian we may argue that not seeing means not existing, out of sight, out of existence perhaps. If there were a god, where is it? If we did have a connection to this god: the same question. Our eyes only look out ward. We should not make the mistake that it is the only direction, for that way lays blame too often.
We should not assume something does not exist simply because religion could not give it to us. We should not put so much faith into our institutions to say that if they could not deliver the thing it must not exist. Some-times organization is too complex to receive, sometimes “manufacture” is not as good as “wait”.
To say we are living into death, that life is death, is confusion. For everything there is a season, there will come a time when that branch is severed, for some of us, living out on the out skirts, the no-mans land, in the retirement homes the hospitals and the wheel chairs, we know it is true. And though we may still be here still incarnate, we wither∗, but to think that because it is inevitable, it is presently so, is not right view. It is an excuse not to dare to live. It is saying, “I would love, but I will get hurt, so I refuse. I am only rational.” Only what we are is whatever we choose to be. There is no only but that which we choose to impose. ‘Only’ is a frame, a window, the wall we built is forgotten because we say, “I have my only this or only that, it will be enough. Through only that, I will look out at the world.”
It may be enough for one self, but we are not all there is. This is life is given for us to live, but it is for us to live, for the cosmos. Creation is not a self-absorbed process. If one thinks so, one should attend a birth. The plant needs the bird as much as the bird needs the sun & the sun needs the bird as much as the plant needs the sun. Evolution is co-arising. When we build a wall for ourselves we build it around selves, but in the prairie, on top of the grass, blocking out the sky, divorcing the view from the coyote. Seperating the man from the earth. We need the earth as much as the earth needs us. We superimpose our views on the earth, we say the Earth is dying, because that’s what we think our lives are. We have been tricked by over-organization, by thinking we can come up with all the answers if we “try hard enough”; we have been tricked into always “try hard enough.” Some answers only need to be listened, not manufactured. Some religion is not organized, some worship needs no building.
*(this is a gift: to see the body decay, to see the shine leave your own eyes, is to see the spirit leave, to see the spirit leave is to know the spirit existed all the while)
They say that in our lives, all, we are dying. Like fruit in a basket, ripening toward rotting. And I can see why. Like an orange, alone, we do not appear to have any branch back to heaven, no strings attached to our creator,that might connect us. We seem to have been separated as the fruit from the tree. As the evidenced in The Fall. Even for those of us who do not identify as Christian we may argue that not seeing means not existing, out of sight, out of existence perhaps. If there were a god, where is it? If we did have a connection to this god: the same question. Our eyes only look out ward. We should not make the mistake that it is the only direction, for that way lays blame too often.
We should not assume something does not exist simply because religion could not give it to us. We should not put so much faith into our institutions to say that if they could not deliver the thing it must not exist. Some-times organization is too complex to receive, sometimes “manufacture” is not as good as “wait”.
To say we are living into death, that life is death, is confusion. For everything there is a season, there will come a time when that branch is severed, for some of us, living out on the out skirts, the no-mans land, in the retirement homes the hospitals and the wheel chairs, we know it is true. And though we may still be here still incarnate, we wither∗, but to think that because it is inevitable, it is presently so, is not right view. It is an excuse not to dare to live. It is saying, “I would love, but I will get hurt, so I refuse. I am only rational.” Only what we are is whatever we choose to be. There is no only but that which we choose to impose. ‘Only’ is a frame, a window, the wall we built is forgotten because we say, “I have my only this or only that, it will be enough. Through only that, I will look out at the world.”
It may be enough for one self, but we are not all there is. This is life is given for us to live, but it is for us to live, for the cosmos. Creation is not a self-absorbed process. If one thinks so, one should attend a birth. The plant needs the bird as much as the bird needs the sun & the sun needs the bird as much as the plant needs the sun. Evolution is co-arising. When we build a wall for ourselves we build it around selves, but in the prairie, on top of the grass, blocking out the sky, divorcing the view from the coyote. Seperating the man from the earth. We need the earth as much as the earth needs us. We superimpose our views on the earth, we say the Earth is dying, because that’s what we think our lives are. We have been tricked by over-organization, by thinking we can come up with all the answers if we “try hard enough”; we have been tricked into always “try hard enough.” Some answers only need to be listened, not manufactured. Some religion is not organized, some worship needs no building.
*(this is a gift: to see the body decay, to see the shine leave your own eyes, is to see the spirit leave, to see the spirit leave is to know the spirit existed all the while)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)