Tag: Wisdom (Page 3 of 6)

It is Coming, It is Here.

July 16, 2013 / Tom

I am clearing space in my life. I’m not sure for what, but I am sure that for some reason I am making room in my life for something that is not currently present in it. So, I go dutifully about my business instinctively, much like a bird making a nest or a wolf creating a den, without knowing what is coming or when it will arrive.

I wonder if I’ve always done this and am now simply aware of it, or if this is something new. I wonder as I watch the fruit fall from the tree of my life if it soon will be my time to ripen. In the silence of my breath I wonder quietly if I am the fruit at all, or simply discovering that I am, instead, the roots of the tree deeply connected with the Earth around me. Am I feeling the Earth as part of me now in a way that has never been? Or am I realizing that I am the Earth; Her streams, Her mountains, Her valleys, Her oceans and Her deserts?

I feel the sky in my stillness. Am I no longer just the blossom, or the fruit, or the tree or its roots, or the Earth but also the sky? I feel myself as the breeze, the clouds, the raindrops, and the starry night sky. I feel lighting come from my fingertips, and heat from my eyes. I feel the Sun burning from my heart and the moon from my Soul.

I feel as if I am the Sun. Just being me, destructive and life-giving, loving to some and painful to others. All I can do is burn, in the way I was created, in the way I have become, and light the sky for some while burning the ground for others.

I sit here for a while, enjoying the warm light from within, the stars surrounding me, the emptiness engulfing me. In the green-hued mist of my stillness I feel it all, and I remember. Yes, I remember it all. From seed to sapling, from sapling to tree, from tree to fruit, from fruit to root, from root to Earth, from Earth to sky, from sky to Sun, from Sun to here. I feel the Universe blanketing me, surrounding me in full emptiness and beautiful aloneness. I can’t feel any separation here, only truth that I am all of it. The sounds of silence tempered by the beating drums of eternal heartbeats fill my Soul with the rhythm of life, and I realize I am.

Now I return as that entirety sinks into that tiny Being we call “me” once again. I realize now that I am no longer just rooted in the Earth, but in everything I am. I love the scorched ground on which my light has shined just as I find joy in the lush meadows that would not ever have existed without me. I walk with a smile in the cracked creek beds that have dried in my presence and swim happily in the oceans teeming with life just because I am. I can make no apologies for either, for you are the creator of your own judgments on the matter. I can only be and let everything fall where it may.

Yeah. I am instinctually creating space in my life. Something is coming. I don’t know what, and I don’t know when, but I can see clearly in my steadfast foundation that when it arrives I will be ready. I can’t make excuses, I can’t make words to describe what it is, but I feel it all around me as I bask in the light I was created to shine. I feel the puzzle fitting nicely into place. I feel the warmth and cold with equal love, and I feel the day and the night blanket me with equal care. It is coming. It is here.

A Million Times Before

July 10, 2013 / Tom

It was like it was a million times before. He would dream of her, feeling her presence in some darkened place at some other time. He could not comprehend the waves of ecstatic energy that washed over him in the midst of his sleep, and he could not forget the pleasure of her touch as the pureness of their union reached them both in the deepest parts of their Being. He would be there, enjoying this love, basking in its sweat, swimming in its essence and wanting nothing more than its eternity.

She would look at him with eyes and kiss him with lips he could not see as she whispered words unspoken into his unfilled heart. He’d stir with a certain pleasure and begin to reach for her with a very human anticipation. In that moment the stillness would erupt into a blinding white light, and he would hear her scream his name as the light washed away the darkness, and that reality was replaced by a new, more human one.

Awakened, he’d open his eyes and look. There was nothing but empty space and crumbled sheets where he would swear he could still feel her. There was no sweat, and he could no longer taste her lips on his own. He’d sigh that sigh that could not be stopped, and would then fall into the stillness that had opened his heart up to so much more.

He was alone but not lonely, wanting but not needing. In the green-hued light of his stilled mind he could feel that presence that had defined his dream. He wanted her, he sought her, and until that feeling would rise up within him in her presence he would not, he could not, stop. Seasons would come and seasons would go, but he knew that one day he would gently hold her face in his strong hands, kiss her lips, and whisper the simple words, “I’ve been waiting” into her ear as their bodies responded to destiny. There, the light within them would explode, and they’d find themselves in a darkened room blinded but never seeing so clearly.

In that night he would dream as he had a million times before. In the darkness all around him he could feel her there, in this place at this time. He would feel the waves of ecstatic energy wash over him, and he would know them as old friends and ride them to their destination. He would feel the pleasure of her touch as the pureness of their union reminded him of their journey; touching them in the deepest parts of their Being.

He would stay there, enjoying this love, basking in its sweat while swimming in it essence and wanting nothing more than its eternity.And like a million times before he would be awakened, but this time there would be no light, no scream, and no empty space. This time, his eyes would open to see her face directly above his, her hands on his face, her eyes glued to his. She would then bend to his mouth and kiss him deeply. She would move her body closer to him until she was on top of him as his hands began to lightly caress her back.

There the dull, aching fire within him would explode and he would feel it as he had a million times before. There he would know. The search for her had ended. He had not paused, and he had not quit. He had stayed true to the unknown course and remained steadfast to the commitment that he would not stop until this fire had been lit by two hands, one his and one hers. As her hand gently caressed the fire she had lit within him, their lips parted as she brought her own to his ear and whispered,

“I’ve been waiting too.”

In that wonderful union between Life and Love there is one simple truth among a host of lies. We cannot settle. When we do we find we suffer while closing ourselves off to infinite possibilities that surround us. Find that feeling, that fire within us and love it. Cherish it. And be it, allowing it consume the lies; those notions, thoughts and beliefs of others that we often use to define us. Learn to trust what you feel in the purest places you visit within yourself. Understand your suffering as a path that can either lead you to your promised land or to an endless loop that only ends when you choose something greater.

Do not fall in love with the body alone. Do not fall in love with the mind alone. Do not fall in love with the spirit alone. Wait and be patient. Somewhere at some time you are destined to meet a torch-bearer that lights the fires within you, all of you. Be there and be present when she comes. Know yourself so that you can know others. Be yourself so others can be themselves. Be impeccable with your word and refuse to take things personally. Focus on the love, focus on the feeling, and accept it as you give it. Expect perfection even in the imperfections.

Don’t be afraid to be her torch-bearer too. Stand tall knowing that you were meant for her as well. Be yourself, and let her fall in love with the truth of you. Do not pretend, but trust her to know what she wants. Then let go, and let the truth set your fire free.

And, yes, I’ll be waiting.

It is the Sunrise

June 12, 2013 / Tom

There is a vile moment in your experience when you realize, for the first time, that she is not the woman you thought she was. The antidote for that poison is the awesome realization that you are not the man she thinks you are. The smile that crests your lips is the Sunrise.

There is that sickening moment when you realize that the one you’ve trusted most knows your every weakness, and is suddenly allied with those parts of you. There is relief in that beautiful moment when you realize that your weakness has always been your greatest strength. The tear that trails down your face is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you miss the ones you love and you’d give anything for one more hug, one more kiss, one more “I love you.” There is comfort found when the ones who love you hug you tightly, kiss you with joy, and scream to the listening world “I love you!” That comfort is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you look back at certain times in your life filled with sadness and despair and begin to feel them again. There is joy when you return to this moment and find it was all worth it. That joy is the Sunrise.

There are those moments when you are filled with anger and your thoughts are focused on vengeance and retribution. You find strength when your breath returns and the gates of your heart open widely to let the love return. That strength is the Sunrise.

There are moments when you feel so lost that you are not certain you will ever find your way again. Find peace in the moment you realize just how found you are. That peace is the Sunrise.

Before every Sunrise comes the darkest part of night. Don’t wake up for the Sunrise, wake up for the darkest part that makes the Sunrise explode into your soul. Feel the coldest part of night before the warm light touches your skin. Know the dead silence of night before you hear the songbirds of the brand new day. There is so much beauty in those places we think are oh so ugly.

And the beauty we find? Well, that is the Sunrise.

Peace.

I. Love. Just. Being. Me

June 5, 2013 / Tom

There was once an ideal so great it seemed indestructible to me. It stood tall in the landscape of my life, and dominated my horizons even in those moments when I felt small and cold in its shadow. I measured my worth in its presence, often wondering if I could ever stand as tall as the person who had dominated my life.

Ultimately, I failed her and her me. It is remarkable what one can discover when the velo di amore is lifted from the eyes and replaced with la nebbia di avidità.

That is often where we find ourselves when a great promise becomes a lost ideal. I found myself a rudderless vessel unsure of each footstep and lost in an abyss of yesterdays, tossing and turning in a vast sea of uncertainty often sailing against the winds of my own heart. The very moment when you watch everything you once cherished and idolized become consistent with everything you wanted to remove from your life is the very moment when the ideal is lost, and often the very moment when you realize your life is no longer the dream you once held dear.

I had no idea what I was in for in that holy instant when the rains came and the flood waters descended upon my world. The walls closed in on me, and my heart sank into the black depths of despair. Gone are those who said you were their son. Gone are those who only hours before had said they loved you. Gone are those who called you brother, and gone is the one who promised you an eternity.

Everything goes. Everything vanishes. Everything returns to the dust on which it was built. Your life ends, or so you think.

I felt as if I was helpless, alone, and that I’d been left hanging in a place of which I had never been, in a way in which I had never experienced. I cried tears so salty that they dried my body of its substance, and sobbed so loudly that I had stirred the gods from their deepest slumber. I searched for reasons, and although I was told why from her, I realized that nothing I had ever believed in was real. I soon lost my sense of who I was and what I was doing.

It is, however, a moment of great opportunity. Some of us seek distractions and support from religion, others seek the same in substances. I simply wanted to watch and to learn. I wanted to seek out the illusions I had constructed in my life and end them. I wanted to suffer in order to end my suffering. I wasn’t going to find my joy in a Bible, or in a bottle; no I would have to find my joy in a place few of us journey into deeply in a way I had never tried before.

That is what I had decided to do. Search. Watch. Learn. Most of all I worked hard at not interfering with the process. Soon I began to see patterns that failed to serve me at my highest place. I saw my consistent need to blame myself for the failures. I saw the mistakes I made in not standing up for who I was and what I wanted in my life. I saw the error of not loving myself, and in not simply accepting my fears, my desires, my needs and my loves as wonderful manifestations of who I am. I allowed myself to be suckered into living a lie; her lie, their lie, and my lie. I followed my heart that said “I love you” without testing the waters in her mind to see if they were too shallow, too cold, or simply not aged enough to dive into. I allowed myself to believe her lie, and soon began living it as if I owned it. Worse, I began admitting to it as if it had really happened.

I began seeing the pedestal I had constructed to place her and them on. That pedestal was a dangerous construct, it puts others in a place of being worshipped unjustly while placing me in a place of worshipping others unfairly. I failed to see my worth, my value and my sense of divinity. It was no wonder I couldn’t see them for who they were.

Mere dust. Nothing more.

There came a time, though, when the proverbial flood waters receded and my ark came to rest on a mountaintop. The rainbows appeared and I let my cargo go free to wander those places I had never seen. It is there that the veil itself begins to unravel, and it is there that the pedestals crumble and the dust blows away. I began to see less with my heart and more with my mind all the while beginning to see it all with something I once searched for but had never truly found.

That part I was always seeking was, truly, that part that was always seeking me.

I began to see that there is truly nothing more valuable to a human Being as the relation I have with my Self. I began to see the things I once held so dear as nothing more than illusions. I began to let go of those swirling dust-devils I once held as gods upon a pedestal and they, in turn, began revealing their truth. I was never what I was told I was, and I was never what I wanted to be. Because I wanted to be it so badly I believed it so easily. In the end the lie was revealed, as was the truth. There is only I, and I am beautiful in every way.

They are just people, and not always just people. They are having their own experience as they have every right, and I have no real need to interfere with that which does not interfere with me. I don’t need their love to feel love, and I don’t need their acceptance to feel accepted. That was a losing proposition that I started years ago, and the faux me could never live up to the ideal that the real me had never agreed to.

So, now all I promise is me…in the flesh and in the spirit without pretense and without some false sense of what you want. You will either love me or not, and I don’t pretend to be able to make that choice for you. I love me, sincerely and without hesitation, as a man with perfect faults and incredible potential. I love what I am doing right now; taking a whirlwind of feelings, translating them into words, and sharing them with anyone who has the fortune of reading them. I love exploring parts of me that were once oppressed and hidden living up to ideals not mine and am often ecstatic about what I find in the process. I love jumping out of proverbial airplanes and free-falling, often unsure if the parachute I packed will ever open even while being sure that I was the one who packed it and no one else. I love being alone when I want, in great company when I can, and in exploring the liberation I’ve found in the broken shackles that now lay littering the place where the pedestals once stood. I. Love. Just. Being. Me.

Period.

I love writing about what I want to write about without worrying about being censored by someone who doesn’t accept me and who will never defend what she can’t accept.

I love that I am no longer afraid.

I love that I can experience this life in the way I wish to experience it without caring about the judgment of others.

I love that I no longer see the “old me” as bad because I no longer see the old me at all.

I love that I can now live in the present moment whenever I choose, undaunted by the desires of others to resign me to the box they created years ago.

I love that I can explore my journey while looking in the rearview mirror, unafraid of the judgments some will place on my experience, and without needing their approval.

I love the fact that sometimes I am deeply saddened by missing those I once called “family” even as I am extremely happy in the knowing of the love I have for them.

I love my children and the relationship I am forging with them. I love that they love me, and that I am acutely aware of the awesome miracles that they create in so many moments, in so many ways.

I love the friends I have discovered, both new and old alike. I love seeing the world with them, and in having our experiences together when the present themselves.

I love that I can be alone for days without worry and without despair.

I. Love. Just. Being. Me

Oh yeah, I said that already. Oh well, I hope to say it many more times before my time here is through. After all, there is no better proof that I love myself then in my ability to love you even if I can’t be “with” you. I love the fucking rain. I love the humidity. I love the cool breeze now lightly caressing my back through my open sliding-glass door. I love my cat who is now rubbing her body on my leg. I love the other one who is watching to see if I’ll pet his sister (they are competitive that way).

I love the fact that I am pro-peace and not anti-war. I love the fact that my oldest wants me to teach her meditation. I love the fact that I love.

And, of course, I. Love. Just. Being. Me.

As you can see, the experience of suffering can be a great friend. Losing something you love can also be a wonderful experience. Seeing what others are doing while also seeing who they are can be a wonderful experience. You soon see that they are just like you, having an experience, and even if you don’t like how you feel in what they are doing you can always find love for them because they are just like you. Even if they pretend to be better.

Take care of yourself and let them go. Those who don’t serve your purpose will drop away like rotting fruit from the tree to serve another purpose. Remember, that fruit is only rotting to you, to others that fruit will be a deserved feast, a welcome meal.

In the end what will only be real is the love you have for you. In the end, the only reality you will have is that you are a wonderful part of the Universe designed to manifest Its beauty. Adore yourself, and become your best friend.

Peace.

If You Can’t Take It With You, It Doesn’t Mattter

May 29, 2013 / Tom

I have been fortunate in my life to have been challenged by many people along the way. This story is an example of such a challenge.

This is a conversation I had with a conservative Christian woman who was slightly older than I am. It began as a group conversation about the checkered history of Christianity, to which I was offering factual accounts of atrocities created during that history.

The woman walked up to me afterward and said, “I’d really like to continue our conversation. You kind of peeved me a little bit.”

I’m pretty used to that reaction, so it no longer offends me. “How so? If I may ask.”

“Well, you seem to quickly point out the evils of Christianity, but you don’t mention that all religions have such issues in their history. Why not talk about that?”

Without wanting to get into a much deeper discussions of why it seems all religions have such a tortured past, I stuck to the subject at hand.

“I don’t believe that’s true. I don’t seem to remember much history of Buddhist atrocities, or of Buddhism’s evil side. I haven’t read where there were Buddhist inquisitions, or Buddhist crusades, or forced subjugation of people by Buddhists. It may be there, but have you ever heard of any?”

“No, I haven’t. But give it time, Buddhism isn’t that old.”

I kind of blinked strangely at that comment, and she must have seen it.

“Right?” she added.

“Actually, it may surprise you to find out that Buddhism is about 500 years older than Christianity. And it’s killed far fewer people. In fact, the vast majority of people who have died because of Buddhism have died because their Buddhist.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Check it out if you want, but I think you’ll find it’s true.”

“Ok, so let’s go with that. I can also say with some certainty that Buddhism doesn’t contribute to society. At least Christianity does that.”

“Can I ask you some questions,” I went on. ” and would you answer honestly? Keep in mind that I am not asking questions to compare Buddhism to Christianity, but rather want to see if Buddhism contributes to society.”

“Yes, ok, go ahead.”

So, I asked her how many people Buddhist monks have murdered, or of people who have been murdered in the name of Buddhism.

She replied, “none to my knowledge.”

Then I asked how many nations Tibet has invaded.

She said “none.”

So I then asked her how many Buddhists the Dali Lama has ordered to attack non-believers.

She said “none to my knowledge.”

“Then haven’t Buddhists contributed something to society? Isn’t peace something we all can contribute?”

It appeared she had no choice but to say “I guess so.”

Not satisfied with this end, she then started with the clarifiers. You know, the “contributions I mean are jobs, money, income, wealth, prosperity.”

“Can you take money with you to heaven when you die?” I replied.

“No.”

“Can you take your house, your car, or your TV with you when you die?”

“No.”

“Can you take any part of your wealth with you when you pass on?”

“Nope.”

“Can you take peace with you?”

“Yes, I hope so.”

“Then isn’t the very thing that Buddhist monks contribute to society the ONLY thing you can take with you to heaven?”

She again seemed to have no choice but to agree.

“Does it seem strange to you that the very place your faith says you can take peace but not wealth is called “paradise”? Doesn’t it seem ironic to some degree that the Master you believe is the Son of God is also called the ‘Prince of Peace’ and not the ‘Prince of Job Creation’ or the ‘Prince of Sound Finance’?”

She then put her hand on my shoulder, said “thank you” and walked away. I’m not sure what, if any, effect the conversation had on her, but it seemed to confirm in me what I’ve seen since my earliest memory. Peace is the answer, and love is the way to peace.

We all have our own personal Bodhi trees, and for me mine has been the many times I’ve sat simply watching. Watching others. But mostly watching myself. Watching myself in moments of suffering. Watching myself in moments of ecstasy, or regret, or sorrow, or joy. Watching myself when I am challenged and when I am not.

It isn’t easy being a human, or another other physical being on this planet. Yet it can be. We just have to set our sights on that star of Peace and Love and hold our course even when the wild winds blow and the waves try to crack our hulls. We can…

So maybe we need to consider something taught as a matter of life by even the lowliest of Buddhist monks. It we can’t take it with us in our passing it really doesn’t matter. If we can’t hold on to it when we close our eyes for the last time perhaps it isn’t worth holding on to beforehand. Perhaps we have been taught incorrectly, and perhaps each of us, if we listen, can change.

And Now I Write…

May 28, 2013 / Tom

And now I write.

Having been blown away by the solemn wind of something other than this world, I write. Having fallen from a spot on which I’ve stood toward a hazy-blue tale of the unknown, I write. Having found the lost sense of purpose on which my heart does beat, I write.

It’s those eyes. Where have I seen them before? How do I know them? What commands my heart and soul to speak a truth my mind cannot yet fathom? What compass points to my true North which is not heading north at all? I do not think here, for reason has no place at this table. I am lost and found, completely at odds with my thoughts while knowing so certainly that what twists and turns outside my head is right.

To what paradise do I see when falling in those eyes? Only heaven could have pushed me from the cliff on which I’ve clung, and only Love could have gently forced me from the perch on which I’ve stood. I spread my mighty arms and soar through air that I once feared, now knowing the dream I’ve dreamt a million times as a new reality.

To you I fly,

my sweet lullaby,

To tear this mind apart.

And though I try

I can’t deny

That sweet and gentle heart.

And so I write. Onward and endless flow the eternal words from the deepest part of me. Harnessed intentions I see in the moving clouds and hear in the rustling of the leaves that are seldom dormant in my mind. It is a truth. It is the truth, and a purer diamond you will not find in the entirety of our Universe. Hold it. Keep it, and view the world through its perfect eye.

Goodbye, for now, as I will write again when the winds stir me to that hallowed estuary.

Peace.

A Warrior’s (Writer’s) Prayer

May 28, 2013 / Tom

Ah, the night, that time when the mind refuses its call to slumber, that time when rants and raves fill the heart with a desire unique to the tortured soul. Alone we stand even in good company, tired and crestfallen in our belief that we are deserved of something more rather than openly embracing that which we have chosen to ignore. It is here I pray, and in here I find the answer.

I beg of you, be silent you tortuous bastard! Let the body rest and let my flower bloom. Let the stars align and remove the clouds that hide them from my eyes. Clear me a path to heaven’s gate and do not stand in my way. Allow me in, and let me make a mockery of it all with the snap of my finger as my eyes open and reality once again sets in. Let me know that in the great God’s absence I am the Creator, and let such blasphemy fall upon the ears and lips of those too afraid to step outside of their cave. Let the light be seen by all, and make such fear blow away with the clouds that keep me from my Moon’s sweet light, and my risen Sun.

Give me strength to press on even in the darkness of my illusion. Let me shine the only light I see into the frayed corners of these darkened rooms and under those places where I pretend to rest at night. Give me the power to fly above the valleys of my own creation toward those great heights that await me, and do not give me cause to rest when there is so much work yet to be done. Harden in me that which is soft, and soften in me that which has hardened.

Let words be my sword and experience be my shield. Allow me no safe passage where none exists, and allow me no safe harbor in those dry lands of my own design. Let me not pass my cup to others unless it is their will to quench a thirst of which I have no judgment. Allow my shoulders to be strong to carry the crosses I chose to bear, and allow my hands their strength to shed that wood that no longer serves me well. Give me strength to suffer in silence when I must, and the power of voice to scream a prayer when it serves the fires burning deep within my soul.

This I beg. Allow this warrior to not pass without his mark clearly stamped. Let not his body rot lest it feed a forest, or his blood be spilled lest it find a meaningful place to land. Make his sweat that holy water of legends, and his story a fabled treasure for those who have lost their drunken minds.

I accept it all with an open mind, an open heart and a waiting soul.

Amen.

Lessons Learned in Letting Go

May 25, 2013 / Tom

It felt good to let go, to watch her walk freely into the world on the path she had chosen for herself. Her smile was evidence of a just Universe, her life since then proof of something wonderful. Yes, beautiful things can come from the ugliest of places.

Letting go wasn’t easy for a man who loved her so. Her soul spoke to him in a language he had never heard before but, somehow, easily understood. His heart beat out her name not only in the most silent of moments but also in the middle of the storms they had created together. It was their minds, however, that could not reconcile to the music they were hearing.

He had become a willing student of observation and what he observed in the process of letting go was a formidable truth. He could see the tricks his ego would play on him, the anger his mind would create as a method of self-protection. He could also hear the requests of his heart and feel the pulsing glow of a love that was true from the moment he saw her. The choice, he knew, was his. He could listen to either.

What he believed she had done became irrelevant after a while, replaced by a simple belief that all things spoke a truth all of their own. What had bothered him as their minds battled one another wasn’t her, it was the truth that in the divine trinity of human love their minds simply were not meant for one another in this lifetime. He could love her deeply in his soul without hesitation. He could caress her in his heart for eternity. He could not, however, dance with a mind that was hearing a different song.

She was not wrong. She was not at fault. She was her perfect self whose mind danced to a beat of a song he could not hear. Her dance was perfect even if he could not follow the moves, and it was perfect even if he found it impossible to learn. As the dust swirled around him he lost touch with her soul and could no longer hear her heart beating in his chest and anger filled the vacuum. He was angry with himself, falling to the common ledge of self-loathing and doubt. He filled the void in the only way he knew how, and he could feel his mind and body slowly falling into the ego’s trap of fear. He began to resist everything, and in doing so he began to attract even more things to resist.

Life had taught him to observe, and it had also taught him the value of experience. He knew he needed this experience even if he could not say why it was necessary. So, he simply went where the currents took him and watched. He could see what was making him unhappy. He could see where the weakness was, and even if he decided not to change his condition in the moment, he was discovering the value of the experience. No tear was wasted, no moment of anger was spent in vain. He knew that one day he would tire of walking in shoes that never seemed to fit on a path that was either too rocky, too narrow or too boring for him to enjoy.

Sadness was created for the experience of joy. Once we experience sadness we understand the value of joy and we can choose which path we wish to take when presented with the option. This expression we call “life” is nothing more than a series of options given to provide us with experience, and we are the Master of our own destiny; the Creator of our own reality. We often fail to realize our own power as Master and Creator, but once we not only realize that power but observe it in action we begin to see the error of blame and judgment. As he began to observe his own dance and how perfect it was, he began to see hers as perfect too. As he began to see the value of his own independence, he began to see the value in hers. As he began to see the perfection of his own needs he began to see the perfection in hers.

What he discovered was probably the greatest discovery of his life up to that point. Letting go is not about forgetting. It is not about anger, or fear, or hatred. It is not about being wrong, or being right. It is about remembering. It is about love. It is about acceptance.

He had discovered that when one finally accepts himself he cannot help but accept others. He had discovered that when one finally loves himself he cannot do anything but love others. It all began to make sense to him finally. The Jesus of the New Testament did not command us to “love one another” for the neighbor’s sake, he did so for our own. He did not “so love the world”, he so loved himself that he could not help but love the world. All of it. Even the tax collectors. If we choose to see God as “Love”, then the Jesus written about certainly was God’s son sent to remind us that we are, too, Love’s children.

It seemed that what Buddha had found was not the rejection of attachments as a path to enlightenment. Instead, we find peace when we accept everything. That’s real love. Forgiveness is not an act of loving someone else despite themselves, it is in loving yourself despite yourself. Self-love is not a sin, it is a wise mastery of everything around you. Self-mastery is not about discipline, it is about acceptance. Forgiveness is nothing more than an act of acceptance, of love, and soon it all becomes one big non-thing.

It all becomes about selfishness. No, not the type your parents warned you about. Instead, this type of selfishness revolves around the focus on self. He had found that when he was happy he had great ability to make others happy. When he was not, he could ruin the best of moods. He began to see himself as the pebble and the universe around him as the lake. He could create ripples, and he could change the Universe around him with one thought translated into one action. He could ruin a field of bluegrass with one dandelion, or he could plant the daisies that brought the world to life. So he began to focus on self, to become more selfish, because his experience and his Universe depended on it. He began to see the meaningless of his human condition even if he wanted to experience it. He could choose which he would experience and which he wouldn’t, and as he began to change his mind, he began to change his world.

There is great strength in each of us, a great power that often goes unrealized in this experience. We don’t just use only 10% of our brain, we also seem to use only 10% of our power and most of that is often wasted on living in the dreams of others. You will begin to see this the moment you decide to be selfish and to take control of who you are and the life experience you are having. The Sun does not have such great power because it is trying to be the moon, and you will never find yourself in the hearts, minds, or opinions of another.

He could remember the moment he had found her soul again. He could feel her heartbeat once more when he closed his eyes and felt the silence all around him. He could see her smile and laughter in his mind’s ear and he knew everything was perfect. It was at this moment that, with a slight exhale, he let go. Not of her, but of that part of him that held on to the egoic ideal of what should have been. As the smile and laughter of hers blended into a smile and laughter of his own, he knew. He had let go of everything in that moment, a moment worth remembering.

If it is true that one cannot add to a cup already full, he was happy for the experience as he emptied his own. Experience is nothing if never exercised, so in letting go he also found the desire to move on. He had smelled the flower whose fragrance would forever remind him of possibility. A wave retreats to make room for another, and he had found the desire to splash in the surf again even if he would enter the water as if for the first time. With that he entered in the direction of the Sun a place greatly affected by the moon knowing that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Peace.

Jesus Must Have Changed His Mind

May 23, 2013 / Tom

Here I sit, my Bible in hand, trying to find that part where Jesus changed his mind. I look through Matthew. Nothing. I look through Mark. Nada. I search through Luke, still nothing. I get past John and, surprisingly, I still find nothing.

Given what I see from those who say they worship Jesus as “God”, I figure somewhere Jesus must have changed his mind. The book I was taught while suffering through Catholic school must have miraculously changed at some point since those lessons. I wouldn’t be surprised, after all the God of the book did all kinds of wild stuff, so certainly changing the entire text on which His superstition, er, I mean religion was based certainly could be done.

Yet I can’t find a single edit.

I can’t see where Jesus suddenly turned his back on the poor, calling them “lazy freeloaders” along the way. I can’t find that notion where the poor were put on notice that they were “on their own” to either starve or beg for mercy to some church as a part of their poverty. I can’t see where Jesus said that the wealthy were deserved of special treatment or any kind of hero-worship.

Nope, my book still says the wealthy will have a hard time getting into heaven. My book still has Jesus eating with the most hated of his society. My book still has him working to feed the poor without conditions. Hhhhhmmmm.

I can’t find where Jesus is pro-death penalty in my Bible. I can’t find where he condemns people to death for violating the laws of the land. I’m sure it has to be in there somewhere because, after all, the Christian part of our society seems strongly in favor of the death penalty. I must have to reread it all over again because certainly those who follow Jesus as Lord and Master could not be for something he was not.

I also can’t seem to find that part where Jesus seeks wealth. I can’t find the capitalist Jesus every conservative Christian seems to know. I look for the man named Jesus who worships money and puts nearly everything behind amassing wealth and power. I can’t find that Jesus though and I can’t find where he even held a job let alone created a company. I am fairly certain that the Americanized conservative Jesus would have had one of the twelve carrying a cash register while another of the twelve carried a sandwich board stating the prices for being healed. I think it’s also fair to say that Americanized conservative Jesus would have had a 501-3(c) as well as a Political Action Committee all at his disposal.

I’m also fairly certain the Americanized conservative Jesus also only raised the dead of the highest bidder. That’s the capitalist way!

Not to get on a tangent, but if the afterlife Jesus described was so wonderful, why did he raise people from the dead anyway? If I had died, was in heaven, and then was brought back by Jesus, I’d get off my stone slab and beat him with my shoe. I know, heaven didn’t exist until Jesus died…or something like that. Uh huh.

Ok, back to the gist of my thought.

I also can’t find where Jesus felt the need to have a weapon to protect himself. I do realize that anyone who can walk on water probably would have no need for a sword, but even when he could have used one he did not and commanded others NOT to use theirs. Certainly the Bible has undergone a Divine edit there. I’m sure it reads,

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. ⁵¹With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

⁵²“Give me that thing,” Jesus said to him, “we must defend ourselves against this terror.” And with that Jesus killed everyone save those who agreed with him, and the world was safe for capitalism and democracy.

The fact check is all done and, well, mine still says “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.” No caveats, no conditions, just a simple statement of fact.

Yet, it seems conservative Christian America is addicted to our modern version of the sword. This conservative Christian America not only suffers from this addiction, and would not only draw the sword, but would also use it with reckless abandon despite the fact that God (or Jesus) did not sneak into our homes in the middle of the night and change the texts to be more agreeable their version of America. Of course he may have feared being shot.

Then there is our “War on Terror.” Our “War on Drugs”. Our imprisonment of more people by percentage of our population than any other industrialized country. Sexual repression and oppression. Guantanamo Bay. This isn’t even going back into our history of racial persecution, slavery, gender oppression, and slaughter of indigenous people.

It leads me to wonder what version of Christianity conservatives suggest we were founded on; the one Jesus lived in the story or the one they have created in their heads as their own. That’s an easy answer because the Jesus I have read about is nothing like the Christian conservatives of America. That is unless the only Bible not changed to fit their model of Christianity is the one I am reading.

I suggest we end this pretentious fallacy that this nation was founded on any version of real Christianity.

Real Christianity doesn’t exist, much like Jesus didn’t exist. No one has ever raised a person from the dead after days on a slab. No one has ever reattached a limb without surgery.

The greatest proof I have found that Jesus did not exist is Christianity itself. The greatest proof I have found that the God of the Bible doesn’t exist comes from those who say they believe in Him.

If Christians really believed Jesus existed and that everything in the Bible existed and was truth, they would have no need to defend their life and property. Gun sales would plummet because they are all on their way to that wonderful place in the sky Jesus talked about. Why defend a life here when something like heaven awaits you out there? Pass the wine and bread, I need a good buzz.

If Christians really believed they would not be so different than the Jesus in the Bible. They’d all be loving those liberal Arab hippies who are like Jesus. They’d all be washing the feet of others. They’d be eating with Democrats and hugging crack addicts. They’d be rushing into prisons to save the condemned, and they’d be loving the hell out of “terrorists”. There would be no cheers over drone strikes. There’d be no joy over the killing of anyone, regardless of their sins.

There would be, however, an awful lot of bruised cheeks, both left and right side.

After all, do any of us know sin-free Christians? If not, how can one of them throw the stone as Jesus asked? Ah, the devil is in the details, and the proverbial Jesus seems to have given conservative American Christians an impossible example to follow. Either that or Jesus certainly changed his mind about everything he taught since ascending into that board room in the sky. Whichever, it seems that despite some notable exceptions in history Christians have given up being like Jesus and have rather sought to make Jesus more like them.

What clearer failure can a religion endure than when the Master it is founded on becomes as irrelevant as a bumper sticker?

What surer failure can a religion find than when the teachings of its founder are less important than the wood on which it is believed he died?

I don’t mind if someone holds on to a rosary believing it will get them to some place that their actions could not. I don’t care if someone believes unreasonably that the world is only 9,000 years old. What I do mind is open hypocrisy on which we have to endure lecture after lecture and statement after statement from these misguided people who who I am is decided by what they believe. That’s when I mind.

So, stop with the nonsense that America is a Christian nation. Stop telling me how wrong gay marriage is and about how homosexuality is a sin. Stop telling me about the value of life when discussing abortion while you are hoping for the death of a convicted criminal. Stop with the clarifying statements that somehow reconcile your anti-Christ-like thoughts with the teachings of the story you pretend to believe in.

Harsh words, I know, but necessary to me nonetheless. I don’t apologize to those who find these words offensive unless they can prove me wrong. I welcome the debate, but please don’t start it out with how the earth was created in less than a week and how each and every woman I know owes me something for my rib. Instead, show me something tangible that doesn’t take a lifetime of conditioning and a lack of intelligence to believe. Do that, and I will apologize wholeheartedly and beg for forgiveness.

I Once Believed

May 21, 2013 / Tom

There was a time when I believed in something.

I believed that they were my family. I believed that I was their son. I believed that I meant something to them. I believed their words. I believed who I was to them. I was more than just some guy brought into their family. I believed I was loved. I found importance there, and I found meaning.

I believed that they were my friends. I believed that they liked me. I believed that they laughed with me and at my jokes. I believed they saw something in me even if I had not yet seen it in myself. I believed they had faith, that their smiles were genuine, and that their friendship was based on who I was. I found peace there, and I found importance.

I believed that she was forever. I believed that the scars would heal, that I would be “fixed” and she would forever be there. I believed in the power of love even if I had no real idea of what love was, and I believed in the imminence of forgiveness even if I was uncertain of how to forgive. I believed she could make the pieces whole, and that the power I had found in the beauty of her smile would make the dream real and the nightmare over.

I believed that I was broken. I believed that I needed them to fix me. I believed in the guilt that I felt with every breath, and the surety of failure that was my constant companion. I believed I needed them to show me strength, to prove my value, and to make me something more than I felt I was.

Yes, I believed. I believed I was nothing. I believe I was something the ground would tread on. I believed in the darkness and I only dreamed of the light. I repeated the mantra of weakness as I gave others power over me. I abdicated the throne given to me at birth, and I let others control the kingdom of my life.

I believed in them because I did not believe in myself. I needed them because I did not know who I was. I feared being alone because I did not know the awesome company I keep in myself.

Now, in their absence, in their denial, in their outright rejection I find a beautiful sunrise. I find health. I find peace. I find a strength unimaginable yesterday. I realize they are not gods, and that it is patently unfair to expect others to give me what I cannot give to myself.

Most of all, I find a love for me. I find a joy in being with me, and I find those things make me able to love those in my life without need for definitions, of roles, and of a commitment that neither feels right nor feels necessary. I find the power to be honest not only with those in my life, but with myself. I find a great acceptance of my flaws, of my strengths and of my humanness. I find my center easily because my focus is not diverted out there.

And I am happy. For the first time in my life I feel truly happy.

So, in some respects I am grateful their words were meaningless and their devotion unreal. I am grateful for the tremendous loss that has brought me here. “For I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” I am happy to have sunk to the bedrock of my life so that I could find the truth there. I am grateful for the climb out of the pit, and for the fact that she was nothing more than a hollow promise that did not exist outside of a fantasy. I needed the loss, and I needed the pain in order to discover something far greater than I have ever known in my life.

So, in letting go I have found nothing to hold on to. I have found surety in the bedrock on which I once stood that showed me the beauty around me. The hug of my children. The truth in their words that come in the hallowed words “Daddy, I love you.” The ability to stand up for my truth regardless of what others would say or do. The indescribable feeling of sitting with my children in a “family sandwich” telling silly jokes until we simply can’t think of another word to say. Then we are still, as if on cue, the three of us simply listening to whatever direction the Universe sends us in. We can find great joy in our sandwich, and we can find great joy in our aloneness because we are not defined by any of it.

I have discovered that I am whole, and that I am a perfect being even in my imperfectness. I need not be fixed for there is nothing broken. Yes, I laugh out loud at the thought that I needed anyone to be fixed. Now my choices are mine and mine alone. I no longer need have faith in anyone even though I have found faith in many. I no longer need pretend and fake a smile in the storm of false accusations and innuendo. Let them throw their stones, for my choice is to smile purely into the heart of their anger and speak my own truth regardless of what they do.

There is love here…much love, and it is now directed in the right place. Yes, there is great promise here.