my little trailer in the snow

my little trailer in the snow, vibrating with the fan of the tiny heater pulsing away on low wattage setting, the air still cool where im breathing but my feet in two pair of wool socks are warm. i havent succumbed to long johns yet, too bulky for regular life, but they sit nearby for when its necessary. i live on my usual diet of raisin bread toast and peanut butter, coffee, yuban mixed with mexican exspresso drip poured through my tiny broken handled black plastic #2 cone, survivor of too many adventures and travels to remember. i exalt in the whiteness of this christmas morning, clouds already settling in for another round of storms. the variety has been amazing, first the thick wet snowflakes that melt on contact, then as it cools down further the small precise flakes that build up and squeek under your boots like talcum powder, then the thaw after 3 days and the frozen ice and crusted top that breaks sharply with each footstep. the air is alive with the chill and every breath is a reason to wake up and experience this moment. theres no running water in the trailer, so there are frequent trips to the house, a little A-frame ski chalet type sitting on the edge of empty hills covered in snow drifted sage bushes. the 5 thousand plus feet of elevation is dwarfed by the massive eastern sierras across the lake looking west, inundated with snow, the ski lifts at nearby Mt. Rose all in operation, and the distant peaks of Mammoth buried in white snow measured in feet not inches. the world continues everywhere, slipping and sliding getting stuck and staying put for 12 inches on the valley floor wreaks havoc with the excitable christmas shoppers all through reno and carson city. its a winter wonderland and every shade of light and color shifts the granduer and majesty of this natural wonder of mountains and hills and lakes and ranches, dotted with colorful glowing holiday lights and decorations. here its a bit more somber, but the love is within and always pulsing with its own reassuring energy, love for all and everything, acceptance and grace, peace and joy abiding and joined to celebrate within and without this holiest of christmas days.

i have lived so long alone

i have lived so long alone, in my heart, letting only one be and all others just a visitor to their own self. the truth within is the gateway to the self that has no other. to be that even the gateway is to be alone, and the weight of that realization is a truth, solitary, existent as space, containing all but not a part of any. to its door and through each pass but none can remain as the pull is too strong leaving no one. a door has no place neither in nor out, both are there but the door is neither. as i pass through the light envelopes me and i like the great worm swallow myself and disappear endlessly even as i continue to swallow. there i realize the distortion creates the doorway, the incapacity for leaving and the service to all to allow the passage, create the opening within that channel,each soul in turn through and into their own self they disappear, strengthened, disturbed, elated, crushed.each from my wormhole into their own and from there a world that has no door but a brightness and some clarity where before the mind cluttered and thickened shuttering the opening. i sit upon a rock my back resting upon the hard outcropping of the flesh and contemplating the convergences of matter and time and energy that creates all, and the finality that life presents as if this will be forever and not just a lifetime. what can i do for others is now all that matters and what is before me is where to start. i contain the space of eternity and the moment that dashes too quickly, inside the universe has no end and outside i feel the finiteness dying over and over. the mind cannot be here for nothing is controlled or planned, nothing managed or organized by me. the truth is an intelligence and love and supreme awareness that no mind can imagine and the heart can only respond to, surrender and love, compassion and truth, for what am i but the child, filled with wonder and living a dream that never ends.

as the world ends around me

as the world ends around me, the frayed edges of my threadbare existence take on a luminescence akin to what used to be the anticipation of the holidays. theres the slow anticipation, the wondering the magic of the final arrival, then the hurried and gleeful celebrations and presents followed by a slow orgy of self indulgent relaxation, as if all this fun was somehow tiring or needed time to be stretched out and enjoyed fully. now is the aftermath of that and the realization that this is all that there is. the day in and day out of life without presents or celebrations for the human, but inside the heart is alive with the absolute certainty of life eternal in each microbe and star cluster, in the planets aligned or misaligned, the sun risen or fallen, all miracles of incalculable and precious worth. even my slumber is the movement of galaxies and the slow turning of seasons and certain change. for the moment that i return to my human self, i exalt in the majesty of the universe and its wondrous nature to bring this form and consciousness into being here in this eon of ages of creation, I am and shall never cease, for what light is cast is cast upon us all and never shines but to show the way within to all the creation, to end the suffering of unconsciousness and find eternal being in each souls journey. we work eternally to release the soul from bondage and every heart rejoices when one is lifted truly from the yoke of human desire and pettiness.be alive and follow the light within and without resistance for love is the guide to unending joy and truth, a world without walls and a life without end.

the stratagem of self analysis

the stratagem of self analysis no longer seems valid, the self looking into the self, the nature of the relationship has gone away. the question has shifted from who am i to really what am i. this unformed being, the flowing presence and unchanging stillness. there is no name for it and the self has no relation to it, there is a self, it interacts and converses albeit without the usual constraints or shared feelings of the other. there is no sense to continue a process that no longer has a valid object, its like a sentence that has no noun, no object to describe or quantify. who i am is defined by the relationships and attachments that have all been pulled apart, and at the center what they attached to is no longer viable. its a gauzy fuzziness where there used to be a thing. now theres the presence and nothing else is running things. what arises is what is paid attention. there is no plan or purpose or meaning, just the track of the pattern emerging without me creating or deliberating or analysing it. i am here because there is no me to decide, its done for me, its the obvious thing because its what is and not what isnt. If any good could come of dissecting how i got here or what it means or why it happened but there isnt, theres just the moment looking out at what there is and nothing else is making it go, the engine is gone, just the vehicle remains, everything is interior to the framework the viewpoint, the context, theres no here here its not a relationship to any point within and theres nothing beyond. all things come from here but nothing is here. the sense of looking at something that would be the self is like examining the shoe to understand the trail, the mountains the unexperienced expansion and blowing away of all sense of what was there before. the tornado has taken all that was and looking at the scraps on the ground wont recreate the home and life that was lived there. how the presence exists and is regardless of what the body or mind experiences is a mystery that no amount of examination can reveal. one can simply stop and in that stopping the endless truths make themselves known and what i thought of myself becomes an impossibility and nothing it can create remains. there is a tremendous relief and an unfailing truthfulness in its demise, and with it a sense of constant surprise and wonder. all that is, is possible and everything brings a newness that never dulls.

the carelessness of nature

the carelessness of nature masks the unrelenting structure of chaos directed by a supreme intelligence realizing nothing can be prevented and all things are ordained and when brought together under the light of supramental energy become the divine design of all creation acting everywhere at once without ceasing. for the truth is the unceasing reality of existence, the illusion that what is being experienced is completely and unquestionably solid and inescapable. as snow falls and trees grow and animals flourish and the earth rotates and precession aligns the rays of the sun to be in harmony with the requirements of the inmates of the earthly plane so are we veiled to not see the ultimate expansion of awareness required to participate in the collaboration of all the universal forces that take on the finite existence in partial form yet with all the power of the entire creation and its endless formations perfectly combining and propeling  human consciousness to seek union and clarity that cannot be mentally captured but in some portion of the consciousness  existing across all vital, physical, mental and psychic planes and exceeding all combined there is the experience of existence as the propulsion of discovery through limited faculties to a grander whole that is both complete and unfinished for the unmanifest portion has no comprehension and can never be managed from this existence. external to all and beyond the senses and their desensitizing filters there is the profound deliberation that extracts unknowable truths and sifts them through this particulated existence and diffuses them through waves of amplitude and frequency that exceed all and can never be experienced in the triple bodies surrounding human consciousness. it is only when the human form is divinised through exposure to the universal and extraterrestrial forces and the system is free to expand beyond the known and compressed awareness of the unrealized self and its comprehension of self as form and limitations, then can become the exploded nature filled beyond capacity with light and force and perfect harmonies of unseen and superamental beings that create and sustain all as the mystery beyond brings everything from nothing and then destroys even the possibility of creation and the unreasonablity of divine manifestation. for man is not the limited one or the one that has questions that cant be answered without some divine power intervening. one word has created all and one power can bring all to its probable demise and within that calamity of life all liberation is made possible and released into existence as surely as all bondage is made human and meant to be not suffered but broken and uplifted, not as man but as the superman that has no allegiances but to the divine that cannot be known or pictured but only aspired to. possibilities that become anything set bondage upon the idea of self, the self that is all and unlimited and brings to every being its sense of living force and unstoppable awareness and unthinkable emptiness. life is a drop of that which is complete, satisfied, generous and truthful, that allows everything and sustains without complaint or question, every possibility and failure as well as unquestionable success. let nothing be the final destination and the journey everlasting.

that which is living is yoga

that which is living is yoga, conscious or unconscious. when done consciously you feel the connection of the universe to your inner being and you feel that the outer world and the inner world are the same substance, in different form. the breath is you from within the inner being entering the outer existence, the expansion of self into the world of manifestation and immeasurable diversity, then bringing that external energy into the internal silence and joining the source and the creation as one force one flow one energy that can never be finished yet always in balance from absolute stillness and silence to unending multiplicity and expansion. the body serves as the mediator, the membrane between the two realities the duality of being and non being, the perfection and the ideal from which only truth becomes untruth through the separation of consciousness and the resulting journey to reunion. each movement is connection and disconnection, alignment and falling away, the complete acceptance and then rejection of all that is internal and external as every molecule is in an unending dance with every other molecule. a romance and then divorce, a coming together and a rebirth, division and then multiplication of all senses and feelings and awareness that creates all potential and makes actual its possibilities and negative links with positive and all conduction and repulsion are felt. in every touch and sight and holding and letting go the yoga of being is unfolding. every breathe every step every thought is the union of being with itself and examination of what is and is not in this moment becoming and having become falling away. to hold and release we give and take all our living energy and mix it inexorably with all the energies that bring life and let it create unending. we are that force and all force in the body is yoga.

truth has no witness

truth has no witness, it alone exists and all else falls away from its purity as the smoke from a lamp. what creates the force is not the source but the impurities thrust upon it that have no truth in them, these are the fuel for the flame that burns eternally for all that comes must go and in that process are all energies brought in to being and dissipated. every experience is the truth taking hold of its form examining it and burning away all that is not its own. we are that, set to burn with the internal flame, lighting up all that is pure and divine and burning all that is not. we are the burning souls, the core of truth wrapped in that which cannot contain or merge with truth and so must be discarded. life is accumulation and death is the removal.to undergo the removal during life we must catch the fire and only from a realised being bringing the force of grace can that fire light and do the work of the divine dissolution. no one is pure no one is complete no one is any part of the divine work until the fire lights, until only that thought guides their life. and in that living is the death of the undivine and the end of what cannot persist beyond the end of form and self realization. as the lamp is just the holder of the flame and must be lit before any useful purpose is realized so is the human form empty without the divine fire burning within. and once the fire is lit, the form is not the fire is not the reason to exist but it is necessary to bring the fire to each and every soul, to hold the promise and be the example of what flesh is born to become, for each of us is the flame burning, but all are the dirty lamps lacking the oil of aspiration, the wicks of devotion, the fire of consciousness focused on the brilliance of the unknowable source of being, the divine grace the heart of the pure form conscious on earth filled with that divine force that acts as the lamplighter for all others, that sacrifices all human thoughts and deeds for the service to the divine and all beings yearning for the lamp within to be lit.

nothing is required

nothing is required. truth like a mote of sunlight carries everything within its beam. we exist not in the dimension of the dust floating but in the transcendence of the medium of the light.it is not in the experience or the identification of that experience or its source or its lack of source that there is any shift but rather in the absolute end of any feeling or thought of what or who is having this existence. the form conscious of self exists beyond the sense of god or source or truth. it creates a bubble of existence relative to everything else. the mind and feelings position and evaluate everything and cast its identity upon everything or rather on its own reaction and experience of everything. there is nothing known but the self and self is that which has no connection to the source or the god or even the knowledge of what that is. for there to be no self, there can be no connection,. no feeling no energy of the self. you realize nothing and exist in non reactive space. where this is, is dimensionless, has no ownership or guidance. the now is the only marker and it has no set points or edges. in dimensionless existence everything flows through you, it is not subject to comparison or analysis or conjecture. it is the selfless state. nothing is predominate. there is no movement or energy, it feels empty and has no future.the vessel has ceased believing it has a separate state, a separate consciousness, it is the form without content. identity that has nothing to compare itself too, self without any other and without internal feelings. the consciousness emptied and not re identified. in this there is nothing. the idea of reward or meaning or even some thing disappears, the thought of return is lost. only a forward face emerges, nothing behind or to the sides nothing before but what is the flow of emptied forms, meaningless activated by indecipherable means to enter the realm of awareness and then depart. in that moment the sense of self is gone and the relationship with the self and with anything the self connects to is gone.there is a profound sense of loss but that too is empty as nothing remains to know what had been lost. in this stateless awareness,one can only be, senseless to the purpose or outcome, experiencing only the passage the motion, not the content. here no-self exists, and in some imponderable manner, either faithless or existentially passive, there is only the dull passage, the channel of desirelessness and unfulfillity, as echoes of what were come forward and then retreat past and only their vibrations are left. inside a stillness that is deeper than the whole of the earth fills everything. from within there is nothing to color the frameless images that emerge and vanish. finally the world has stopped just as the soul is drained of any color or energy. each step a journey each raindrop a river every breeze the tornado threatening to blow the dried remains away.  here there is only what is sensed as eternity and timelessness, as every day is a life and each night the end of the world. into this emptied vessel what manner of existence flows, what sense of unalterable truth and purity can manifest. who is it that cannot be known by the self or any remnant that would taint the essence of being? awaiting without any sense of time or place, at the intersection of all existence and the source beyond which nothing can exist, alive without living am this that becomes what cannot be held or examined, felt or understood, beyond the reckoning of all senses, he who is that without which nothing can be. imperfect devotion vanished and loves empty chant faded into sublime oneness, and into every particle this wave of being reigns unending and perfected, uplifting that which was separated into that which is no more but is only He and no longer any me to unite or know or become, only transformed perfectly into His unending immanence, transcendence and creation.