Oak Grove Temporal Distortion

Everyone agrees we seem to be experiencing some sort of time-contraction event. The weekend actually felt more like 1.33 days long. What this means is anyone's guess. If space is really curved, as Einstein proposed, then isn't it possible our sensory-cognitive apparatus could be dimly aware of "curved time". I'd write more on this subject, but my work day seems to be rapidly drawing to a close, and I still have loads to do.

The Headache Sutra

World-Honored One, what must I do to attain liberation?

Subhuti, you have not yet grasped the bottle of spiritual Ibuprofen; much less have you twisted off its child-proof cap. Still further are you from shaking out the Immortal Pill into your Buddha palm. And further yet you are from washing it all down with the Water of Life.

Master, if I may not gain instruction from one such as You, then I must give myself up as lost!

Subhuti, you begin to understand. For who is there that seeks liberation? And where shall it be sought?

Those who believe in a path mistake the effect for the cause. They see the calming of the mind, the quelling of desire, the dispelling of Karma as a path to a state, rather than the symptoms or behaviors caused by a state or consciousness field.

Subhuti, do you know the expression, "Seek first the Kingdom of God"?

World-Honored One, this is a saying of the Christ-followers. It is from a passage that states that the things of the world will be provided to believers, but that they must seek the most important thing first, rather than pursuing the things of the world.

Subhuti, you speak rightly. Do you see the problem with seeking the fruits of attainment, rather than attending to the root? The self that you believe in seeks mastery, enlightenment, peace and other states of being, but in so doing, do you not see the flame of desire burning just as brightly?

What the Christians refer to as the Kingdom of God, we might do well to refer to as Original Mind. If one can regard the self and the phenomena of this world as a sort of dream, one can find shelter in the Kingdom of God, that quiet place that has always remained at the back of your so-called mind. We call this "Abiding in the Golden Abode of the Real."

I begin to see, World-Honored One; one does not need to study the wisdom of the ancients. It is necessary only to "stand where they stood"! The field of consciousness supplies all the rest.

Subhuti, I believed we are finished.

Cookie rocks the xylophone

The Half-Hearted Teachings, Volume 1

It's entirely possible that what you're tripping out about is completely wrong. I'd write more, but I've got to find the wart medicine.

A sickness that heals you?

I know it's going to sound weird, but I feel different today... more unified, if that makes any sense. It's as if I had to have this weird sickness break me down so I could get put together the right way again. Like I wasn't quite right before I fell ill.

And death shall have no dominion.

Sometimes when the going gets rough and I don't know what to do, I like to jump in the backseat with my pal The Constant Observer. He is always there, sitting quietly in the back. Think I first noticed him during a bad car crash I was in. I was in panic-mode, as you might expect, but I still registered the fact that there was... this consciousness... taking it all in. I think that was the first time old C.O. ever really communicated with me, not so much the meaning, "You are crashing the car." so much as the feeling: "But don't worry about it."

So anyway, I think there are certain activities (besides car crashes) that are conducive to C.O. coming forward, and practicing music is one of them I can write about in this blog. There's something about letting the surface mind work its kinks out in the music, and then slowly relax back away from trying to accomplish anything. Then he's kind of there, like he was all along, but he was letting the temporary mind do its thing, because he's got all the time in the world, and he's not worried about a thing. If you're trying to make something happen, he's just going to let you do your thing. But there probably won't be much communication or teamwork or whatever.

I mean, it's really like C.O. is the real one, and I'm just the character he dreamed up. When the life is up, the dream is over. And I think I'm cool with that. I'm very cool with that indeed.

Non-specific happiness

Is perhaps the best. Feeling like the only stuff that's real is what I learned in Sunday school at age 4. All knowledge I've acquired since then is nothing more than the internal logic of a dream that's not particularly good.

Remembrances

Evil Woodpecker

physical reality is what
got left over from a prior existence

Short Story

Once upon a time, there lived a man who was convinced his life was nothing more than an average-length sentence that existed in a set of narratives.

Black Cloud

After signing the stupid tax forms, I was feeling grumpy. Actually, I was feeling grumpy before this, both in non-specific ways as well as in ways that could be attributed to specific things: unexpected news of an old friend's death, missing out on a $6,000 order, etc. So anyway, I decided that some exercise might burn the fatigue-induced adrenaline by-products polluting my body and soul.

I went on my "dream route", so named because it passes through a neighborhood I'm pretty sure I've dreamed about before ever visiting. As I ran, the fatigue from the last run a couple days ago made its presence felt pretty quickly. My run became more of a run-jog, then a jog, then a walk, then a sort of run-walk, if such a thing is possible. All the while, a black cloud drizzling rain close by would start spraying drops on me as the wind changed direction. I discovered that if I ran for 100-200 yards and then slowed to a quick walking pace, I could just keep ahead of the leading edge of this micro-weather pattern that seemed determined to follow me.

By the time I got home, I was still dry, and thankfully in better spirits. It seemed funny that the metaphor for someone being in a mental funk, i.e., with a "black cloud" hovering over their head, was on this particular evening both a metaphor and an actuality for me. Was I giving myself a sign or something? Maybe when we get into these bad spaces, it's up to us to get up and do what we can to run out from underneath the cloud?

You might not believe this

The following is extremely tasty late-night snack!

Take some Greek flat-bread and warm it up in the micro for 30 seconds.
Spread a little mayo on it.
Put three or four layers of raw baby spinach on top of this (make sure it is washed)

Fold it up and eat it like some kind of weird semi-healthy taco.