WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO LIVE IN A COCOON?

It’s Memorial Day in Sedona. There is a possibility that it is also Memorial Day somewhere else – but I cannot speak to that. A friend recently told me, “You live in a cocoon.” And that sounds true. I understand that elsewhere, folks are concerned about elections and the performance of the president; funny.  I have heard about the oil well disaster but most of my contemporaries simply shake their heads; of course that would be next. Could it be otherwise?

Do not misunderstand me. Just because we live in a cocoon, does not mean that we are exempt from the deluding insanity that is the everyday existence of the collective consciousness. We are you, and you are we and we must all take responsibility for the fantastically beautiful and horrible mess we have constructed. One difference may be that many of us here are attempting to vibrate at a new and unheard of frequency. We understand that we are all amazingly creative beings, and we have no choice now but to begin the transformation of the planet.

Sometimes it feels like we live at the epicenter of the New Earth. I actually hope that is not true. I pray that these centers exist all over the planet and that the energy we create is like a ripple on still water; ripples that radiate outward and connect with the ones that are also spreading across the planet.

Let me speak to the mindset of my dear friends and family who embrace traditional Christian practice. All this talk of the New Earth should resonate with you. It is a reference to the thousand year reign of Christ that is ordained in the book of Revelation. Open yourself to the possibility that the prophecy has been misunderstood or misstaught over the last century. Christian churches are constantly separating themselves from each other because of their different interpretations of “end times” scripture. Why do we quibble about the order of events, the timeline, and the logistics? It just seems silly, now that we are here.

If we look at the track-record of Jesus the Nazarene we will see how we could easily miss the obvious. Why was Jesus not accepted as the Messiah by his own people, from his time to the present? It is because his entry onto the scene did not match their preconceptions or their interpretation of scripture. They were expecting the sky to open and for their savior to appear in form holding a terrible sword, riding a white horse, and wearing a countenance full of wrath. Sound familiar? Where they wrong? Are you?

I’m not sure if the disciples were really as stupid as they appear in the gospels or if that was just a teaching technique. But Jesus is constantly repeating to them that the essential elements for experiencing the Kingdom of Heaven are things that are subtle and unseen. They did not even fully understand the second coming of Christ that literally hit them over the head when they received the baptism of the Holy Spirit as described in the book of Acts. This event was the foreshadowing of the third, fourth, hundredth and thousandth coming of Christ that most of us also did not notice, because we were blinded by belief.

I am as certain that the Christ walks this planet crust at this time, as anything I have ever known, because I have seen him. I have seen him in the eyes of the others who sit with me in the sacred circle. I have felt him in the gentle touch, freely given, that heals my broken heart. I have seen him in the mirror.

This evening I will sit with friends and enjoy hot dogs and potato salad and a good micro-brew. I know you were thinking: sprouts and tempeh loaf and wheat grass. See, maybe we really are “One.”

Memorial Day is for remembering, so let us remember who we truly are and why we are here.
Now . . . everybody vibrate!

I AM HERE BEHIND THE WOUNDED ONES

I yearn. It is an activity that is beyond hoping and beyond trying. It is an ache combined with desire. The objects of this existence will not line up nicely for me, though I set them in order again and again. So I must tear the world down repeatedly and undertake its reconstruction.

I yearn to be complete again. The knowing of the perfect one I am is just outside my remembering. The conditioning and the constructions that separate my awareness from my perfection have not all slipped away. Still it is “I” who peek around the ones who shelter me from your gaze. You may not see consciousness when you look at me unless you look with perfect eyes.

I am here, behind the wounded ones; behind the broken ones; behind the chained ones; behind the ones with shattered hearts. There are so many pieces of me to look past, but won’t you try?

And in my quest, it has proven mandatory that I be made completely open to the rampant hurricane breath of the divine. My opening has not been gentle, but so poetic that it be delivered by a loved one.

She was the rock I leaned upon when there was so much turmoil in me. And when the support was taken away, I was taught how to stand. Yet I misunderstood the metaphor. I misjudged that rocks were only for support; something to hold onto in a storm. But ships are wrecked upon the rocks, and a rock may be a deadly weapon in certain hands. This one, applied just right, cracked me open.

I am grateful for the opening, if not for the breaking. But there is no opening without breaking, so I must humbly give thanks for that as well. It is the opening that reveals how closely lie the peaceful grassy hillsides and the still, quenching waters of tranquility.

It is the opening that informs me that I need not bother trying to manage circumstances or relationships. My own management of these matters has been found lacking. But surrendering them is no easy task for Capricorn Rising. He likes to have a hand in things.

It is the opening that reveals to me the heartbreaking existence of so many of my other expressions, and my love goes out to you full of joy and tears. We will all find our own way, in our own time.

Today I laughed and danced, lifted my voice to the rafters. I kissed my partner on both cheeks, and in saying good-by, kissed the beautiful reflection of my best self – the Beloved on the mouth.

IT'S ALWAYS HERE!

My previous very bad week steered me on Monday morning toward a Sedona Method support group. I got involved with “the Method” last summer and have continued to use many of the techniques I learned, but it had been some months since I had been to a group. I felt a bit like an alcoholic who has been skipping meetings.

I was happy to see Elizabeth was facilitating the meeting, having met her some months before. And when the only other person to show up was my friend Debi, I felt very safe and at home. When it was my turn to be taken through a release, I presented a condensed version of the external challenges I had been facing. But the part that was most on my mind was a profound feeling of sadness that I surmised to be some deep wound that I could not exactly name.

Even though I did not present that piece at that time, it is exactly what came up for me during the question and response cycle. Elizabeth kept asking me questions and I kept saying yes. I said yes to allowing the hurt to enter my awareness, and I said yes to letting it leave. I felt what I would call a nice normal release, and then she asked me what I was feeling now.

I said I was feeling calmness. Then she asked me if the calmness had just arrived, or if it had been there all along. I answered without thinking. “It’s always here.” I could not get all the syllables out without choking up. This emotionality was completely unexpected and the tears rolled out of my eyes though I was not sobbing.

I don’t know how long it lasted. It might have been just a flash, but for that instant I was not separate in any way from the others in the room, or any others anywhere for that matter. It was a glimpse of Oneness, and when Elizabeth asked me now what I was feeling – the only word that came to me was “gratitude.”

It is easy for me to understand the presence of God, intellectually. And I embrace the suggested solution to suffering of just stepping into the One Presence; the true self. But the honest experience of this awareness cannot be achieved through effort. This one came as a great gift when it was completely unexpected and there was no effort on my part to get it. It was grace.

Now this is a good example of non-abiding awakening, because I could not maintain this level of awareness indefinitely. But the experience buoyed me for days because of my understanding that peace is at hand and available. And this knowledge still lifts me, even though I have returned to a comparatively mundane existence.

Let me recap. It was difficulty that brought me to this point. And it was absolute surrender that opened me. It helps that I was guided by a conscious gentle being. And I was ready. It was a prophet who once said, “You don’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need.” Join with me this week in opening to the welcoming of grace in our lives – undefined and unrestricted.  It’s always here!

With a Cherry on Top!

I am celebrating my 10th month in Sedona, and if anyone asks, I say, “I’m from here.” This is my home. It is not bragging for me to say I have not had what could be called a "bad week" since I arrived here last July.

That is not to say, I have not been challenged – I have. And those challenges have required a tremendous amount of inquiry and processing – if not effort and labor. Because the bulk of that work has been internal does not lessen its importance. In fact, it is the internal demons that most stand in the way of our peace and happiness. And it is the internal work that most promises to deliver us from suffering, both inside and out.

So, why did I choose this week to pull an abundance of external challenges into my awareness? I still don’t know why and I may never know. I am okay with not knowing. I have faith that it was all needed for my development and that it is also all in divine order. Though, it occurs to me that I needed to have something more in my awareness for comparison purposes.

I will not detail you to death, here – let me just offer you a slice. My computer crashed on Monday. Okay, the machine is four years old and on its 2nd hard drive. Though I commiserate about the disposability of this technology, I accept it. The laptop had seen me through the most tumultuous years of my life, and it was worn out.

So, when I took the notebook to the Best Buy tech, he tells me there’s nothing on the hard drive to retrieve. Now, I know that can’t be true, because I personally placed over a hundred poems on there . . . and a novel . . . and two screenplays . . . and all my banking. So, don’t tell me there’s nothing there.

The resolution of this challenge was not impossible, it simply required time and attention I had scheduled for work I actually wanted to do. After this event, there was a piling on of external difficulties, including a home visit from a Coconino County officer who wondered if I had forgotten to respond to that photo speeding ticket I had received from them some time ago. I said, “yes.”

Then, the culmination of the week was an unexpected return of a now familiar piece of “shadow” connected to an ancient and deep wounding in me. When it arrived, I said aloud, “Thank you, God!” Because I needed a cherry to sit atop this shit-pile. It seems there was one more layer to this particular point of pain, and the good news is – it feels like the last installment. We will see.

Now, on the first day of a new week – I don’t have hope, I have assurance – that all is well. I am kicking off from the side of the stream and I will let the current take me where it will.

For those of you in the greater Sedona area, I will be reading a new performance-piece poem this Thursday, 5 – 6:30PM, at Java Love Coffee House. It might be good and even have a laugh or two.

The Dreamer and the Medicine Man

Something one of my teachers, Timothy Buzzard, said today sparked a focused remembrance in me. He said, we can all remember the awakening moment in our experience that changed everything – that mandated that we never be able to see or understand anything the same way again.

It took me about two seconds to place the event; for me it was a series of events, but at the time I had no frame of reference for understanding what had happened in my awareness. It took years for me to really understand, though I knew I had been changed.  I knew nothing would ever be the same.

It was the late seventies, and a friend of mine invited me to go with him to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota to sit in some ceremonies put on by a rather obscure Medicine Man named Dawson No-Horse. At the time I was working in an urban Indian Center in Lincoln, Nebraska and was fascinated with everything Indian. I had already set in on a Native American Church ceremony – listened to the songs, heard the prayers, and even took some peyote. I found the experience empty and uninspiring. The peyote made me sick and I had to leave the ceremony halfway through.

The Lakota ceremonies provided a different insight. I participated in the Inipi (sweat lodge), the Yuwipi and numerous Chanupa (pipe) ceremonies. The details are not needed here. I was a young man, in my early twenties and still attended a traditional Christian church. I was raised in the church, and though I was tolerant and even curious about other religions, I was a true believer.

The Lakota ceremonies did not contradict any of my beliefs, but they surely showed me that the narrow traditions in which I had been raised could not possibly hold all the mysteries. I was forced to question absolutely everything I believed to be true. Up was down. In was out. Black was white. My religion, the belief system in which I had been indoctrinated since birth, was insufficient. There was more to man and God and the Universe, and I was just on the brink of discovery.

I have heard it said that for those who have had a profound supernatural experience, they are of no use in the conventional world. That certainly felt true for me. I could see that I was smart enough and industrious enough to manipulate the world of form in such a way to get money and things – but I could never fully believe in the value of doing so.  I went to work – to get more stuff – but my heart was never in it. All my success in the material world was fleeting. This was often disconcerting to a partner who could also see those possibilities and could not understand that the rewards I sought lacked substance and texture.

The other piece that Timothy provided today is this: once a person has given himself to the process of awakening, the only practical function left for us in the world of form is to be of service. We may be of service to others, or we may purely be of service to Awakening itself.  We are witness to spirit, source, soul, consciousness; whatever you want to call it, waking up to who and what it really is. This is our sacred calling. This is our function on the New Earth.

I am finding that being of service to Awakening can be rewarding, even within the world of form. Maybe a dreamer, a poet, a seeker really can be of use on the planet.

Imagine.