silent thunder

I've seen this play out at retreats... as one approaches the potential for real release and healing... a backlash and rejection sometimes occurs and the one experiencing healing pushes away all progress and potential healing in favor of the old familiar story of the misery that even though miserable, has become comfortably acceptable and often preferrable to the unknowns of actual healing and release. It never ceases to amaze me when I witness this... However, a story/healing/realization may be told to another, yet it may not be understood/accepted/realized for another.

soon enough, their karma will run over their dogma... so all should balance out in the end.

Wow, some lovely blades. The Jade particularly resonate. My collection started when I inherited a few blades as a late teen. My Mother had been holding them for me. They came to me from her Brother, for whom I was named as he passed just before my birth. He was an army Dr in the sixties and was stationed throughout Africa for most of his service. There he acquired several bush swords from Northern Tribes and two german officer swords from what look like WW1 days. Animal skin scabbards. I've since added several daisho, having a deep respect for the japanese folded styles, along with several European replicas. For my upcoming 50th birthday, I've alloted cash for a couple of (what I hope will be high end) Damascan Steel Blades. Still in the ferreting phase on this... want to find a reputable dealer and avoid knockoffs, which is tough, considering the purchase will almost certainly be digital and online from pictures only. Any recommendations of reputable purveyors of Damascan blades anyone here can offer?

therapeutic post

sung blue...

I'm a skeptic, but I'm not a skepdick. Due to a general lack of certainty about anything phenomenal, or noumenal, aside from there being awareness... I find ample space to allow for knowing that I don't know why and how many things occur and likely I never will... and that's absolutely fine. Some things don't require my understanding, to accept them when encountered. Understanding is not a requisite for experiencing, or complying, or rejecting. I experienced several things in the presence of accomplished lineage holders that shook my paradigm. What I had previously experienced and subsequently projected as possible and expected in 'reality', was rather radically altered not just once, or twice, but on a regular basis, when around these humans. Hence the beautiful introduction of lack of certainty about previously held notions into my world view and with that, a healthy dose of gratitude at the exposure to phenomenon that pried open the rather rusty box in which I was maintaining those notions. I'm thrilled to be in the mystery and as a good friend and one of my bosses at work said the other day. "I'd rather have questions I can't answer, than answers I can't question."

A painter at work, seeing my vajra necklace asked me "oh! do you have a teacher?" "absolutely... you, him, the floor, the door, that bush outside, the sky... the wind... ... ... teachers everywhere" now I look out and realize... where would I look and seek outside, for that which already lies... within?

They move like breezes. Without distinction, while emanating freshness, revitalizing and soothing effects in their wake. Often unnoticed until passing or past, yet the presence is distinct, poignant and potent in its subtlety... as shifting and present as a cooling breeze in the midst of a still, hot, muggy afternoon. I used to think of them as medicines... treatments... pills in a way. Now I sense they are like the swinging open of a door, where there is no door. Yet they emanate opening and the bellows of the tao breathes in their wake, refreshing all.

then what is the absence of light? is there an absence of light? can there be an absence of light?

what does light illumine? does it illumine itself? does a knife cut itself? can teeth bite themselves? what does light illumine?

I've been releasing some of my relations with duality based on these types of ponderings recent years. It sure seems like there is really One unified expression of light, that seems like light and dark, sound and silence, heat and cold to me, due to the state of my perception and my mind's propensity for jusgement, projection and comparison.. i seem warmer than ice, yet colder than lava... does this connote two temperatures that are separate? Or is it a unified flowing field of temperature that only seems varied, due to the situation and comparisons made by my mind reliant upon my current vibrational state?

Or is god a butterfly, dreaming she is a man?

and then, the difference between light and dark... light moves, while dark... is there any dark at all? or just realms of vibration beyond the ken of our perceptual tools to interact with and perceive...

Light? Dark? Whose Light? What kind of light? Allegorical? Literal? Temporal? Philisophical? All, or none of the above? Ha! My ignorance in this clearly shines like a beacon!

words for me hold no power in and of themselves. they are neutral sounds... vibration. i am not afraid of them, nor upset by them, nor pleased with them. the timber and intention words are used with however... that is paramount. In my line of work, there is a plethora of locker room talk (by the guys and the gals) and a veritable nonstop onslought of verbal assault and back and forth, in the form of ribbing, joking and creative expression. This banter fosters and strengthens bonds, rather than causing strife. However, change the tone of the intent of a phrase and the wars get going in nano-seconds. Intention is everything. When an energetically sensitive person intends to use words to inflict pain... seems to me, only a rare master is able to slip out of the hook of shenpa and remain uninjured/engaged. Some wounds are inflicted by what is said... most, I find are inflicted by how and why something is said.

Thanks Mate. I'll attempt to clarify intent. The use of mere is not authoritarian, for I claim no authority... nor do I intend a denigration, or devaluation of the physical. (Although I hold no worship of, nor attribute great importance to the body, or any forms over non-forms, I don't denigrate them either). Mere in this case is used to connote my sense of the stark contrast between my prior illusory experience of the seeming solidity of forms/perceived objects, to the realization of what is now a deep abiding experience that what before seemed solid, now is experienced as simply/merely/essentially, emptiness and vibratory flow of energy in patterns perceived. Perhaps simply, or essentially would carry less emotional/judgemental value as a word. I'm not certain. Merely still flows as I work the phrases in my mind. In semantics, each word carries a meaning for each mind. Clarity is so appreciated though... so To me, everything is light of varying frequencies... a la Tesla's Cosmological models. For me, there is nothing solid, unchanging and concrete, all is (merely, simply, basically, essentially) vibration/emptiness/non-thingness that I used to attribute solidity to, and now, realize (for myself only) is the interpretation of endless flow. Each of my senses is a glimpse, interpretation and processing of the flowing present, experienced in a frozen state in my mind as a past. If any words bring a sense of judgement or authority, simply disregard... I am sharing only and not claiming anything as truth. And as usual, I am not at all serious... though I am very sincere.

Time slows as speed increases, until theoretically at the speed of light, it all but ceases, from the perspective of light... from the perspective of light, (if light has perspective, or if I'm permitted to imagine such) then it takes no time at all to traverse the ends of our physical universe from the perspective of light. Kind of a paradox. Also interesting that in recent years, disclosure from multiple sources that the speed of light is not measured as an absolute. It's not constant as was touted in my time at University. The measurements of light vary, however slightly, this seems key, though I don't have a mind/word/concept for why it seems such. I often sit in the dark. I crafted a box, which I put inside a closet, then cover it from the inside to make a truly dark space in which to sit. A place to get fully away from all the light of cities and evenings. Particularly all the 'man made' light, light of partial spectrum. Not sure why... it's just a compulsion that developed and wouldn't subside, so I acquiesced to it. It's remarkable the effect of true dark on my entire being, not just my eyes and mind function. Hand in hand she seems to stroll with the potency of Silence. Though true silence I've only encountered once, sitting in a ravine in the deep desert with my new wife, in mid day. The thunder in that silence triggered a cascade in both of us that still resonates three decades later. In sitting in the dark, I wondered... were I a source of light... what would I see? If I were sending light out in all directions, to me, I would see... nothing. The only time I see anything, is when light comes to me from a source, or it bounces off another object. So if I were a source of light, and there were nothing to reflect that light off of, I would perceive...? I am a source of light, albeit, tiny. My physical form (which I know to be mere vibration... an apparent pattern/form that is mostly empty thanks to the teachings of taoism, physics and buddhism) constantly radiates small bio-photons of light and my interactions with Awareness take on the characteristics of light when dealing with matters of mind and emotion. Shedding the light of simple awareness will dispel illusions of mind like fog in morning light... phyisics reminds me that all matter, all of our universe, is varying frequencies of light. We consider them different according to how we interact with them in their resonance... but sound is merely auditory light. What is the speed of silence? of dark? What is dark? To me, it's not just the absence of light and physics agrees. 96% of the matter driving gravitational expansion is beyond the ken of our biological perception as well as those of our tools of observation. I keep coming back to some things though... Like the only colors I perceive of objects... are the colors the objects are not. This also hooks into my awareness and won't let go... The green of an apple comes to my eye, as that is the only color that is rebounded off of the apple. This applies to the rebounded light from all objects that enters my eye. So, in effect, I am only ever seeing the light that objects are not. Adding to this, at my slow vibration well below the speed of light, there is indeed a goodly delay between the light entering my eye, being processed, filtered and interpreted into thought/idea/reaction, so all I'm ever working with in my mind, is the slight past. I love this topic. Probably a good thing, I'm off to work, or I'd babble on incessantly all morning. Thanks for posting this... I'll have a lovely ride in and a better day with this topic rattling around in my mind box. Man I Love This Place!

words... may behave like actions, though action in sound only, in mind. words: an exchange of intention and concept through sound and potentially, though I suspect rarely, with identical meanings. an exchange of presence and intent, yet without form existing in time, emanating in space ephemeral, non-things... yet able... seemingly, to heal and pierce. what then i wonder... indicates what is piercing and what will heal? if everything i love... and all that i despise, truly emanate from one source... as it seems to my awareness where is the distinction in all of what is one?

100%. i am 100% certain there is awareness. i am only certain i am aware. i no longer hold certainty anywhere else, and though I used to saturate in certainties everywhere I looked, in all topics I encountered... now... Awareness systematically, methodically, ruthelssly and mercifully... dissolves it away like fog in morning light. how aware? what kind of aware? why i am aware? i am 0% certain how, what, why. don't even have much energy, interest... slowly losing energy for anything other than being content with simple being.

Resonant, vibratory things words. They flow through the emptiness of our lungs and out the tubes of our mouths. Into the ear tubes of those who hear... and those who listen. They are pinned to a page in formal lines and broadcast on paper and screen. They ring in the mind. Hit me and I will bruise. Slip a fierce word/concept into my mindscape and I may suffer a leaking bruise the rest of my conscious life. I recall one very short demonstration of the power of words: Grasp a sheet of paper and wrinkle it up, good and tight. now smooth the paper out like it was... Grasp the attention of another person and speak to them vindictively, with intent to inflict pain now smooth the paper out like it was...

in mid mastication... a piece of peace in my peas!

My Mother's Mind in this life... dissolved slowly until it was all but a vapor, that would manifest only slight variations of themes involving memories. The forms of these memories could not hold shape for long, in conversation, or it seems in her inner landscape. With her dissolving mind, along with the loss of cherished memories, many of her daily self imposed and created dramas and sufferings also evaporated. It was an odd blessing/curse to witness. On one hand, she lost her relationship with almost everyone she ever knew, except my Sister. On the other, she also lost the hold of many of the old tapes and paradigm forms of her very painful childhood and adult life. So aside from body aches and suffering, much of her mental suffering was no longer maintained as mind unfolded into pure being. At the end of her life, I couldn't be near her, or even show up in pictures she viewed without it causing painful confusion for her. I look so like my father did at my age, that she confused me with him, so my presence or images of me, her son, was a confusing and painful mixture of someone she knew she should be close to (her son) but couldn't clearly recall... and a slew of old pent up blockages of trauma involving her marriage to my Father, (whom I look exactly like as a grown man). Such is the power and weakness of Maya in the Mind. Projections that are as vividly real as any memory you cherish... and as utterly insubstantial and weak as fog in the piercing morning light. Blessings and Curses abound... Everything I love and all that I despise, come from one source... so where does the difference lie? Any longer... I feel certain that there is awareness. The rest... (poof) (whoosh) i just dunno...