Jealousy, envy, and “It just sucks”

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I was thinking that the function of these emotions or their kin may be a signal from our heart, soul, Being, (whatever word fits) that we are not operating within our particular groove.  A signal that we have become lost in motivations, goals, dreams, or intentions that did not originate from our own Soul or God or purpose (whatever word works).  No matter how “good” or “bad” they may seem to be they are not ours for they do not bring life with them.  So that when we see someone who is actually enjoying, or creating, excelling, or living their life we recoil at the sight, injured but not by the Other’s  success but by our own lack of definition and creativity.  Taken rightly these signals can help us awaken to the un-lived life that is exclusively ours to create.  We tend to recoil from the negative within us but it, in whatever form, can give direction as to where a new creation is required in our Soul.  Be about your own groove and you can share your thing when it’s time to shed, play, or dance.  Then you have something to offer the experience rather than the joy of it stealing yours.  It’s all jazz.  Sometimes we comp.  Sometimes we solo.  Sometimes we appreciate and applaud others.  There are places in the flow for all.  It is the disconnection and inability to join in that is signaled by the negative that arises in us.  Just like an oil light on the dashboard negative emotions are trying to help us.  So many times we turn away from the very help we say we want.  If the quiet signals are not attended to eventually the engine will blow and our Soul will force us to give it our attention and care.

Who you are is already enough.  Learn the path your Soul wants to go.  And go with Her.  She will never leave or forsake you.  Forsake Her at your peril.  I’m serious here.  She will mess you up.  She can be a real bitch if she needs to be. Of this I know.  From what I hear this is a lifelong process so I don’t think we finally “get it” and its ours.  But it seems just moving in the direction (typically toward dread) is enough to get things going.  Maybe just moving at all and breaking the inertia and addiction of the old stale patterns is enough to start.  It can feel crazy but the “crazy” is clinging to what is not, what has never been except in our wishes and grief.  It was written that Abraham was reckoned righteous because when he was called “he went out not knowing where he was going.”  His rightness apparently was in the going not necessarily how or where he went.   So I’m guessing that the “right” direction is not on a compass.  But I do think it is just past and on the left of moving, going, and seeking that which only crazy people believe in.  And somehow that process will get one there.  It is “crazy” to cling to an idea that there is a purpose for your life, that there are answers to the questions and longings of your soul.  The World’s system is so noisy it is hard to hear and know oneself.  Sometimes our Soul will have to scream at us in order to get our attention.  What I do know is that what don’t work now still won’t work later.  Clinging to what is not will not get me or you or anyone to what needs to be.  It might hurt to let go and can be most terrifying.   But the wraith-like existence of the lie is utter damnation.  Perhaps the voices in our heads know what the hell they are talking about.  Be Groovy.

Seeds Sown – Plato’s Groove

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Spiritual path...

I had a crazy idea.  It was connected to my soul somehow.  It has been at the periphery of me for some time.  It is funny how crazy dreams will manifest and change over time.  I have a musician’s heart but I can neither sing nor play anything other than a few chords on a guitar and the CD player in my truck.  But the crazy idea which was birthed a long time ago has persisted.  I had no idea that it could ever become real.  Sunday I decided to get way out of my comfort zone.  I contacted some friends who are some of the best jazz musicians there are.  We are going to do some experimental jazz improv along with my poetry readings.  I figured that I can’t sing but I can talk.  I have realized that the spoken word can be very powerful.  It was and is still somewhat intimidating to think about but crazy might just be my path.

What follows is something that I wrote three or four years ago.  Last January my sons were helping me start this blog and we did this one night after a couple glasses of wine.  Now I’m thinking we can take this thing on the road. Or not.  It don’t really matter.  What matters is that we cast the seeds into frightening and new places.  But I do have at least one place lined up that wants us.

Time winds down. . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . .

The clock ticks.
It fades in and out of my awareness.

The clock ticks.
Marking Time as It winds down to finally rest in Eternity.

The clock ticks.
Independent, without regard It plucks the very strings of the Cosmos.

The clock ticks.
Time now divided makes meter possible and cadence contingent.

The clock ticks.
The fabric of possibility is woven, lining the womb that is time.

The clock ticks.
Sacred Space emerges between the beats of past and future. Seeds can only be sown in the Now.

The clock ticks.
Slumbering Soul, never at rest, seeks completion of Its’ chord unresolved.

The clock ticks.
All existence is in motion, potential, moving toward harmony or dissonance, creativity or chaos, Life or death.

The clock ticks.
The metronome beats out the call to choose or not to choose. Both require a choice.

The clock ticks.
Whether background or fore, whether conscious or dreaming, It makes possible the awareness of Plato’s Groove.

The clock ticks.
Out of the shadows Life calls to life. There is underlying order within the chaos. The pilgrim seeks that which has always been hidden within view.

The clock ticks.
The artist’s heart does not create ex nihilo but rather chooses one and not the other, manifesting particular harmonies that resonate and call them into Being.

The clock ticks.
To act or refrain from motion is the artist’s prerogative. Variation ads pigment, or not, to the evolving tapestry.

The clock ticks.
Soul becomes more harmonious; at rest in the body, powerful its resonance with the Real. Dissonance no longer a mystery to be feared but rather consciously strummed to accentuate and more clearly articulate the Soul’s growing chorus.

The clock ticks.
Oh, Traveler strain through the dissonance to hear the notes which resonate with the pattern of your soul. Choose it at the cost of all others.

The clock ticks.

The clock ticks.

The clock ticks.
Each Soul’s resolution is to cultivate and balance It’s own polytonic sound in preparation for joining the romp with all other pure souls in harmony, dance, in art, in mathematics, and all other lenses through which we glimpse the mystery of the Eternal celebration that is Life.

Consonance. Congruity. Harmonious. Original. Authentic.

Arthur and Oz (Audio)

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“Run away,” they cried.  Coconut shells beating out the rhythm.

On a quest, foolish tasks, tests with no purpose

Stupid King with no kingdom, only coconuts

Grail vision at least lead them toward their fear

White bunny, Holy hand grenades, battle won

Movie within a movie

Fear is like that

It is not the enemy, it is a guidepost pointing toward what is illusion

 

Left home in a storm, betrayed left unprotected, vulnerable

Toto barks at opportunity for change

Advice from Munchkins followed, seeking Wizard, the honest liar

Can’t think, can’t feel, no courage, yet moves toward source of dread

Fix me, broomstick in hand, unaware of victory, angry

Fear is like that

Dream within a dream

Red shoes already on her feet, she just needs to want to go home

 

The white bunny always points the way out of the show

The way out of Oz is always through the Witch’s castle