Friday, September 28, 2012

7 Layer Dip + Fourth Dimensions

The layering of thoughts is so serenely chaotic.  On one hand, it leaves no room for space, or at least space utilized for the utilization of not (what is space? Space.).  On the other, it perhaps connects the many Electrons across this void of Time into which a thought may take place.  As time continues in a forward-like state of motion, there seems a slight conundrum of this order: without a Past, there would not exist a Future.  In the Present arena of Time, where we now undolefully resign our habitat of attention, we ARE.  We are Being.  (From the same strain of thought as this delightful word that most recently greeted me, “Isness”, it is most definitely remote, I really do love it).  As we are thinking on the Future, hopefully not for extended durations of this H.G. Wells Time Machine as it usually takes us (why must the Eloi always beg of us so?), we suddenly become inhibited with a Past…for it must carry over, pass by, in order for us to think on the Future.  Our Present is massacred, or put on hold (“In the Blink of an Eye”….tell me, what is sleep…what is death…??), and transitioned into the Past since we no longer are experiencing it.  Can this be so?  A Present  moment simply cannot BE if we are not IN it.

Furthermore…the layering of thoughts that this bafflement creates within our minds (or at least us Country Mice that doth not hail from the Big Apple where traffic is like Trees), may not necessarily be of needed descent.  Now, I have talked most specifically of the thoughts between thoughts…think of these as the shadows that a bridge creates as the smooth water slips slowly below.  The layering of our thoughts, shifted into the brutal chaos of turning our Present moment into the Past without it even existing would be the traffic on the bridge above…what nuisance this traffic contains, but oh what a brilliant shutter it does paint to the cross-sectioned Eye of the beholder.  Carry On Electrons.  I do say Carry On.


Sunday, September 23, 2012

Somewhere Within the Rainbow

There are moments in this life when our destined confusion subsides a gap for clarity beyond repair.  Spaces in time where the compiled moments of the Past and Present flow become connected, almost bridged-within one would say, in a way where human language no longer has the authority to transcend descriptive meaning.  Moments where the timing of light, appearance, and soul-structured phenomena indeed appear to be guided by an Invisible Hand of which we can only fully live to explore…it is to these moments in which faith knows its existence and continuation…for “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” seems like the only explanation worth offering.

Over the past few months of contemplative awareness, my mind has blown into these gaps far more frequently than ever before.  Oh!  How the drifting of gas molecules contains me so…for when appearing in our minds as a Rainbow of Light in the morning storm when Enlightenment is most serene, we must wonder if this Invisible Hand is not on our side after all…or maybe Within us All…Within the Rainbow.  As One.  As All.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Endangered Monks

There happens to be a species of seal called the Hawaiian Monk, or llio-holo-i-ka-uaua, (“dog that runs in rough water” as the Hawaiians say) that has been endangered here on the islands since 1976.  One of the only species native to Hawaii, 'Monk' seals are known for their likewise characteristic: a life of utter Solitude.

Down at Sandy Beach, one of the more popular surfing spots on this side of the island, I was happily basking in Emily Dickinson’s flit and flow of poetry while glancing at the riders out in the distance of a regular surf, when a large, dark creature came frolicking out of the water from the section of the beach right in front of me.  The tourists, who always have a way of being camera-ready went absolutely fanatic!  I, simply wondering if Emily Dickinson had indeed transported me into her beloved world of nature more literally than expected, watched the scene unfold as this Hawaiian Monk Seal (named Buster as I later came to find out), continued his dance up the surf to where a female Monk Seal (named Erma) had been molting for the last few days.  The environmental conservationist, we will call Bert (there will come a day when names as well as stories will stick with me!), told me that we were witnessing the Hawaiian Monk Seal’s hormones in action: he was trying to woo Erma with his surfing skills- to which his mission’s success would be blatantly denied.  Bert, the NOAH  (possibly Project Noah- my search came up a little empty) supervisor for the entire island, told me that there are currently 32 Monk Seals that he watches over, placing his “spys” as he referred, on different spots of the islands where the seals are daily spotted to keep tabs on the flitting romances, deaths, and births of the entire population- and of course keep tourists from mauling them with cameras, floating devices, and negligent seal knowledge.  As I was talking to Bert, ANOTHER seal, a true ‘Dog in the Water’, that Bert happily explained was named Kermit (hehehehe, oh pun me), was showing off and surfing the wave to try and harass Buster and win over Erma’s heart: harassment accomplished, Erma’s love not a chance  (what a woman to aspire to- 2 up and 2 down!).  Bert told me that as solitary as Monk Seals seem to be, there are still hormones (just like us he mentioned) that simply overtake the power of the mind.  Surfing for Hormones- should start a club.

I had to giggle as I packed up Dickinson and slipped on my Tevas.  How had I come across such a curious array of connected stories: Erma, Buster, Kermit, and Bert…perhaps only in Hawaii does solitary confinement mean hormonal Freedom for a “monk”.


Monday, September 17, 2012

To the Man in the Bed Sheet Hammock

On the southern embankment of Koko Head Crater, a trail ghosting the old railroad shadows views of the Haunama Bay shoreline and the extensions continued parallel Kalanianaole Highway (if you have ever driven Highway 101 up the Oregon Coastline, just add 3 dimensions to the crayon turquoise,  20 degrees Fahrenheit, volcanic ‘leftovers’ and massive surf culture and you could be here in under five senses).  Upon bumming up this vertical slope with a full Nalgene (sometimes two if the sun is feeling mischievous), my own homemade blend of roasted cinnamon and Truvia blended walnuts for power fuel and my Moleskine pages, I have found that the best time to experience the purity of  description begins around 5:45 p.m. Hawaiian Time...for here on the island, the sunset still remains a mystery to me.  It encroaches the horizon unlike anywhere I have seen, usually two hours earlier than Idaho at least, but in a way that teases you, for unlike what I assumed (huf! How we always assume too much! What good is true assumption anyway?), the sunset always finds a way to avoid lingering- unsynonymous to the people here who have perfected the art of Linger.  Furthermore, upon trek up the 1700 ties that now serve as an almost Great Wall version of hiking steps- only a heck of a lot more vertical and spaced apart causing a sixty-five in person to hurl their body forward or thus take twice as many steps as the rest of mankind, I have begun to crave the gesture of Silence upon encounter with each fellow hiker in passing.  There happens to be a moment so serene, an almost invitation into the soul, where the barter of glance, of a trepid, but almost curious (to the extent in which the terms are often hilariously muddled) question, or perhaps rather statement of honest exception found only in acknowledgement of the beauty being shared.  For sunset, a crowd in to which I have decided I much more suitably belong, brings in a different breed than the hikers of the dawn (watch your toes if you get antsy to experience this- Silence doesn’t seem to penetrate their Preparatory Mind as well as the Thinkers of Dusk).  This invitation is momentary at most and addicting at least.  But it does make me wonder, each and every time, what so happens to bring them to the mountain at the end of the day…are they as I- an artist of the day painting freely as I choose with a tendency toward the beautiful, or are they perhaps lovers in Romantic scene, businessmen with a secrecy for spirituality (humor not intended, but accepted),  National Geographic enthusiasts (yes, I do believe this would make quite the spread),  or, as my favorite, a local aged around fifty-five who hikes up nightly with an old bedsheet to hang as a hammock on the old bunker….
Either way, my delight is full and my attention soft- it is to these secret fellow companions, in which my dedication to this hour exists.   I know not their lives, but only a single passion in which we share the view of the world from the top of a crater in the middle of the ocean at dusk at the end of all of our different days, until at last, we begin the hike down....silently parting ways until we are to meet again, possibly the next night…or possibly never…but it doesn’t matter…for the moment will always exists just as it is, nothing more, nothing less.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Bus 142: Alaska Bound, Alaska Found

In Christianity, the beginning of Time was birthed by the choice of man; man choosing knowledge, choosing power over the own Creation of his soul.  As this choice was made, the closing of our spiritual eyes and the beginning of Time became our reality.  Thus Time, or “a dimension in which events can be ordered from the past through the present to the future” was born.  We must wonder what the world looks like without the restrictions of Time…

Spiritual leaders who have originated in all walks of life, such as Jesus, Moses, Buddha, Krishna, and countless others, allow us to realize the immensity in which life connects itself to all other life.  (There must be a reason why all good ideas are repeated over and over and over again through classic literature, theatre, motion picture, our own minds…they have always, and will always Exists.  We in turn are only able to look at them in different groupings, different light, different Time.  This is why friends are often our angels of Light- more to come later on this).  People from all different cultures, timelines, races and walks of life are able to experience glimpses of this same force that Adam and Eve denied, if only for split seconds (see the Thought Between the Thought).  Since then, the search to remain connected to the Source by which all Life flows begins every single day.  We are striving to become what we were Born as: an expression of the force of Life in conjunction with all other forces of the same Life.

Daniel Quinn distinguishes this moment of choice as the separation of mankind.  There are Takers, or people who advance with the reality that mankind is creating and living, and then there are Leavers who accept Life how it is has always been and always will be and live within the Creation.  We must ask ourselves, in which does our daily life operate?  In present society, Time owns the world as its Rat Race.  I cannot accept that we will all die as rodents.  There is most certainly more.

Every single person lives within their own reality of this Life.  They are the “Gardeners of theirs Soul” (James Allen), they are the “artists of their Masterpiece” (John Wooden)…only we have control over the reality in which we choose to live.  We do not have to accept that Time will always restrain us.  It does not restrain plants, nor animals, nor ocean around us in which we share atoms of life.  It is only Man’s Creation.  In our minds: “Only perfection exists” (Michael Ruiz).  “When we open our spiritual eyes we are able to see the Simplicity of Life” (Michael Ruiz).  In Walden, Henry David Thoreau, as Into the Wild’s Chris McCandless, come to live in this Simplicity because they gave themselves the reality in which to do so.  They attempted to separate themselves from the bounds of Time: Thoreau in his world within the cabin and its surroundings and McCandless in his adventure to the Alaskan wilderness (notice how little money played a part in both of their lives, clue?).

Every single day, Time makes an appearance on our lives.  We grow older, we acquire things, we acquire knowledge, we acquire Baggage.  And until Man as a Whole is able to open its spiritual eyes, we will continue to Gray.  But it all starts with the opening of Our eyes.  In our Masterpiece of Life.  Let us live as Thoreau in Simplicity, as Jesus in Love, as “Alexander Supertramp” in abandoned bus, and as Ourselves, as we were Meant to Be; Leavers in this surmountable Way that has always been and always will be.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Zen Me.

While pondering the Way of these curious Samurai these past few days, I found myself stumbling across a small, personally well-worn book on Zen Buddhism down at the Hawaii Kai library book sale for the most frugal price of 25 well-spent cents.  Of course, like all devout readers most assuredly do (even they do not yet know it) I believe that we do not neccesarily 'find' the books that we choose to read, They Find Us.  And after years of skimming thrift stores, yard sales and flea markets, today was no different.  It found me.

Upon my adventure into such curious thought, I felt myself flipping back through the last six months of my own thought books.  Had I been living a Zen-filled "Way" without my personal knowing?  First of all, Zen is a subcatergory of Buddhism that gathers both the simple and the devout in many different parts of the world, first originating in China during the 6th century.  Unlike regular Buddhism, Zen does not adhere to reincarnation, karm, or nirvana, but uses its teachings in a way that is admirable for men and women seeking a higher enlightenment (I want to be clear that I am not knocking traditional Siddharthian Buddhism, but simply am differentiating between the two). It teaches that enlightenment may come to "dedicated laymen, and that this enlightenment may occur suddenly and intuitively- not neccessarily requiring years of study and concentration" -(Peter Pauper Press on Zen). 

One of the most fascinating concepts of this old "Way of Life" that has previously demanded my attention with the Samurai is this idea of satori:
                 In satori we are able to look beyond our immediate world into the universe of original,   
                 eternal, Absolute Being- often called the Great Emptiness- which was before our world
                 was formed, and will be after it disappears.  In this condition we lose our sense of Self, and
                 know ourselves to be part of the great Oneness of all (p 6).

                 We are all part of Absolute Being, and we are all part of each other (p 7).

I cannot help but relate this Emptiness with the Space Between Thoughts as previously discussed, as well as the idea of the Whole (Absolute Being).  What a wonderous strain of thought to come upon me today.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

More on The Thought Between

The space that exists between our thoughts is where we become Present in each moment.  It is the time frame between our memories and our future.  It is where the Flow of the world thrives.  And it is where love in its purest form exists.

"The Gap Between Thoughts is where the mind stands still.  No thoughts exist in this space....Spiritual teachers tell us not just to recognize it, but to Be in It.  It is where your mind can experience present moment awarenes." -Evelyn Lim
What does it mean to know the spirituality of a wave, a sunset, a wind?  Are we as human beings able to consciously instigate this?   How does “Going Outside” (as well as music, art, poetry, human movement etc.) allow us to tap into this feeling that life feels like it aspires to?  Is Nature 'living' fully in the Present moment and Flow of life?  Are we not a part of this same Flow (the Whole: God)?

These moments are what allow us to se a power far greater than our collective imagination.These momentary glimpses of the miraculous are the potential of how life was meant to be, of what it can be.   These moments are the ones that Faith stands on…that Love never dies on.  “The Thought Between is You.” 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Take These Thoughts by Chris and Thomas

With the Moon

It is high tide.  As the gravitation
of the waves exert serene barricade
against the Makapu'u coastline,
I sit.  Here.  Knowing that
without barriers, We too,
are as the water:
The breath of Life and Death.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

"Way of the Warrior"

In the Samurai’s Bushido, or “Way of the Warrior”, nobility was a way of life.  Emphasizing “frugality, loyalty, martial arts mastery, and honor unto death” were the main characteristics for this moral code.  (“When the cause is great, victory is that much sweeter”).  This chivalric philosophy, stemming from Zen Buddhism and Confucianism, seems to balance Self Discipline and a Freedom of the Mind with a hard ease.  Honor above all else.  In this day and age, I like to believe that the Samurai’s Bushido can still be applied to modern philosophy.   But I feel we must first define what it is that we are actually fighting for.  (For the Samurai it was the right to protect their people, to give loyalty to their master and to adhere to their way of life.  For us- (should we even have to pause to think about this answer?)?)

When a Samurai became disloyal to the Bushido it was punishable by death.  One sword plunge into the stomach traced up and into the heart was considered an honorable way to die among warriors who realized they were not true to their ways.  In this day and age, we would have a difficult time accepting a cause ridden to the death (except for in the freedom of an Idealistic Mind).  What has Western Culture defined as Nobility if nothing like this seems to exist except through Tom Cruise movies?
Before we can be true to our way of life, we must define what it is that we are fighting for.  Until then:  “To thus enhance another’s soul moment by moment by moment is true Nobility.”   –Allie Jo

Monday, September 3, 2012

Shouldering the Curve

Upon prior investigation into the realm of the human mind on motivation, a table has turned.  For some, a cliche rising of motion propelled forward to a "betterment" is what best drives our decisions of every day life.  Discipline, clear goals, ambition, the works...for others (in passing conversation), the motivation to do "absolutely nothing" (to make enough money to be able to "sit" on) takes the helm.  ("What about the people who make money to help people?"). Although, tending to fall in the prior category of allusion, I must question whether or not the purpose behind the forward drive of mankind (of choosing a self-propelled internship over a Peace Corps assignment- where the helping of people is both immediate and self gratifying at the same time) is not in some way inching toward the peak of the mountain where the other slope downward will soon start.  I fail to believe that success takes on this slow form of suicide, but there seems to be a breaking point at which this peak occurs.  How high (and will we be needing our cold weather climbing equipement?) is too high?  And how must we define reasoning behind our purpose for doing so (why do we feel the need to take self-gratification out of the not the pursuit of Life both for improving ourselves and those around us a noble cause?)?  We must have balance.

Control is not always the best option for a Free Mind.