The sun is turning outa blue--I know its calling & so are you

Subject: here's my sense of how I learn
I get the title from Paul K's lyrics--just thought it appropriate for what I'm trying here!!
Epistemology, is the science explaining how it is we Know things. Case & point, the word Ren, in Chinese, is like co-humanity, actually just human--but in its context Kongfuzi (Confucius) shows that ritual is altruistic in its highest esteem. So, I take these varied & colored words, as from the East or my/your backyard, and see that it is a ways yawn back to its impervious beginnings as folks used words thru utility as I can ascertain my own motive. There is its evidence, this book before me saying self-actualization is bestowed upon us from the ancients. And it is not merely desire that the word yields the glory of material language making the aspirant find equinamity with appearances...even emerging from spirit and becoming One with the Outward Fact...you or your semblance/ all the same. And my ignorance in its throes has me land on wherefore art thou expression, as answer enough found in my query. The generalities under which we live is plainly from looks back into the ubiquity of history. There in that boxed context we see the subjective antecendent, a word in fact that solicits the mind, makes its stupor unyielding to the objective present. We have no choice but to believe a point in the loam of lives predeceased, as that things go away is ever present because reckon this: all symbols of eternity are IN this life, but LIFE all the same is my reflection on a fine detail in the singularity that is the conduit to language's root interlocuttors...the originators of godtalk as well as easy-speak.
***I am thinking what is the shadow of the sun--meaning is something more immense making the sun cast its own shadow? I feel that this is one of my better prose pieces: it is what I do, no vocation in it--the science is literary. Don't take this as a biblical traditionalist perspective, rather, I am taking back the language of the Literalist. What we experience above the sun is hasidus, an immanent release we feel from "loving-kindness." There is futilty below it. This isn't a consignment of flowery talk just to embrace pathlessness==a letting-go! The probably first empirical enumeration we would not have avoided, was the sun as the healer...of woes, brings us into transition. A Polish author's book about travels in Africa, he as a reporter in the mid-20th century, has a title implying quite oppositely what the implications of what our early life contended. The sun may cast shadows, but what is the shadow OF the sun caused by, he appertains? Just to jump ship and remit everything to G-d exiles you from reason, as the imagination's narrative is our point of reference in having faith. Again, if you jump ship, didn't you see the fall on the way down... Observable Release, or more conventionally "rational thought" is become your mystical endeavor. Don't say, ahh but you have to have faith, that you won't drown. I'd ask what of faith was in your mind as you fell prone? "We screw the sun just for fun, we paint the moon mystically true," as Linton Kwesi Johnson the Immanent reggae poet relates. Out west about 40 minutes N.E. of Sin city, was the park Valley of Fire, & it was slightly too juxtaposed with the closeness of Las Vegas and vast population, that it then seemed to me the stones were tarried... This is the desert under the sun's worst prowess: 4000 yrs of habitation, yet this world seemed incinerated. The stones were something alluring, & easily answered for (social), like I wanted to find a key to the pre-historicity of our reception into the emptiness of those desert pallets showing Indians' past. ...But I wanted to find it and not deny it while comforted from being off the road, letting my thoughts revolve in urban containment. This sounds like a defense of my not knowing a motive into the attiqa--a Hebrew word suggesting G*d's unfinished beginnings...the slow unfurling of the godhead, where our examples lie like seferot, energies, or attributes, say the cosmogony of Beauty. The instincts I'd want to assume (having that motive) about the Natives having been received unto this material dispensation--the light of his or her beginnings hopefully understood, are my rational bent to look at some sensed image of where we can touch the earth. So, man's nature--nature et al, is found even perhaps in urban ubiquitous devolution. Though lives barely indicate what changes I'd propitiate, I am yet determined to trial my agonistic knowledge... In other words, who can I compete with, if the quiet has no face--as I'd reject civilization sooo proximal. The sun blinds, its shadow is denied...what would it have been cast upon & be seen?

IN the Valley of FIRE, as Babylon Burns

The park was slightly too juxtaposed with the closeness of Las Vegas and vast population, it then seemed to me the stone had tarried... The stone being something alluring, & easily answered for (social), like I wanted to find a key--a teacher in the masses, to the pre-historicity of our reception into the emptiness of those desert pallets showing Native Americans' past. ...But I wanted to find it and not deny it while comfort from being off the road, let my thoughts revolve in urban containment. This sounds like a defense of my not knowing a motive into the "attiqa"--a Hebrew word suggesting G-d's unfinished beginnings...the slow unfurling of the godhead, where our examples lie like seferot, energies, or attributes. The instincts I'd want to assume (having that motive) about the Natives having been received unto this material dispensation, the peak moment from which I look--the light of his or her beginnings hopefully understood, are my rational bent to look at some sensed image of where we can touch the earth. Though lives barely indicate what changes I'd propitiate, I am yet determined to trial my agonistic knowledge... In other words, who can I compete with, if the quiet has no face--as I'd reject civilization sooo proximal.
Just imagining how it is incumbent upon the denizen of our deserts, to feel that its grandeur of space holds you up, as opposed to the ill prospect that survival is at once your agonistic numinous trial. The myriad view as before & behind me while I sit yogin-expectant at the red-hued desert expanding, is perceptible like the feeling of an open door figuratively behind me as now. For just a moment I imagine the sounds past the threshold are channeling in merely less auditive echos as before me...a strange echolalia phenomena. Played Mark's d'jimbe drum, read, & imagined the rock as my bed--has my senses reach for the sun--the filial entity for the Indians' fate. If I can at all place iconography of human form giving way to the few steps some ancient path availing my lumbering efforts to view cosmogony--the stark indefinite desert may grant substance.

So, if I were asked, how would I describe an awakening? IT is meaning to say, for instance last night, my eyes**in conceptual meditation**saw only illumined thought-images—nothing at all what was before me; it was beautiful! I saw some psychically composed room, which I responded w/ ideation that I have “arrived,” but then there was a dense black shadow & I called it down to veil me, which once encumbered, utter peace filled me w/ an awakened spirit. I converged upon identity, for what seemed sustained venturing into long moments of time & place=--I was alone, & yet received, evolving & prone to the chambers of wisdom the Kabbalists speak of—ever reaching, but toward intangibles—still a kind of stage for communion w/ effort as the well-defined payoff. I am saying Yes to the Outward fact that would be OTHER than anthropomorphic: meaning appearances!! If someone speaks, you feel--to paraphrase B. Marley--but what if they use the words streaming from that center of awareness that says, in effect, the world collaborates in the project of your worth. (someone using your language as before you!!) That worth is your consciousness...projected!! So, now we know this occurs in self-expression, but now ask yourself, when does the light of day become concommitant with the self-conscious act that the road before you exists only as each step upon its peak surface is reaching its immediate proximation--your purblind step? Or another way to look at it, when do white noise vibratory properties in a wall facade become as alive as your mind in expectation that you see through these physical barriers? You know the walls collapse in certain epiphenomenal consciousness. This is the world acquiescing with our very solitarian trajectory thru it... So "you speak, I feel." (as from BMW's Confrontation album) But also, you leave, and the world takes a stand as we do knowing it is incumbent upon us recognize our perseverance!!

Abraham of UR--thinking of the Indefinite

For all intents and purposes, I want things to compel me to act. That shouldn't sound unusual, but folks terminally declaim being "baited" into their friends' mischief. So, within reason of course, but it is I, me, mine that lets things succeed in making me feel indicated. What I am saying is that in the end NOTHING is going on--if something is going on in your life, you are not living. What is to be believed at all, if you are concussed to lose sight of centers from without--the limb where we get pinned may not be distraction in truth. Living is when we have awareness of being the soft machine: each moment is unique and the indefinite (apeiron in Greek) dross, material world is only pointing to the veil constraining our willingness to be impacted by relationship... Remove the veil and answers are abound--yet, nothing to deliberate on as the dharma manifestly is that we observe OUR BECOMING...maybe like observable release--we are becoming free!! We refuse all constraints, thus our freedom is the responsibility-anew to stand solitarian. No one baits me, so no recourse to choose to be liberated from relationship no matter the spoilation the other contends.... As Bob Marley sings, Step into the Fire but never get Burned--referring to Daniel maybe, but more obviously to me Abraham on the lotus flower, once a fiery cauldron!! A head-strong well fought for mental apostasy IS of a visual sense of my personal-history. The primary colors are at least in essense the heated condition from corporeal thought--just enough thru mindfulness saying yes at this presentation of nomenclature of a thousand chairs resounds in a thousand deaths dreamt in each... I just say yes now to the known me, and I am allured under the statement of presence any silent corner contends with its issuant shadows hiding, leaving me in a blue slumber."Step into the fire, but you never get burned."
"If your work speaks to just one other individual, your message or thoughts are heard and known." --a friend of mine relates. The way I take this is, if you see that you are understood by an other, you understand yourself.
Well language eg poetry expresses IDENTITY, but it is only found when in relationship=when we are understood in light of that self-expression. So, we totally concur, because I also think if we symbolize our sense of experience, it must be manifest when we share it--so that it be scrutinized, or praised, appraised etc...
JAKE SAID:"What I meant and only meant when I said if someone understands what you are saying and understands your message then you have communicated your thoughts."
Certainly, to be understood, means we understand ourselves--like communicating your thoughts means you can move from the damaged ego to its annihilation, since I can't imagine I am greater than you--as my empirical sense of the immanent. That is the empirical reality--I find that I AM NOT.
In my motive for writing, people I knew sometimes flew into my wonder, and I sought the fulfillment of imagination, kind of instructing the sense we all were as PRESENT in the threshold of the day, at that very moment. The thing I felt I saw, at once, was ephemeral imagery of my dad, but only in that something that was taking place under the front-yard tree. HE was elliptical and just so averse than from whom I wanted to be understood. Then I saw things objectively, from near or far, I am consorting with just how I am feeling indicated in relationship...and at a certain point no manufactured distances can be sustained.
Referring to Daniel & the lions' den maybe obviously just as Bob Marley mentions on this song I reference, but more obviously to me --Abraham on the lotus flower, once a fiery cauldron!!--IS this idea we are dancing around, as my friend says, there is no right or wrong, but thinking makes it so. Yet, we refer to G-d as Good, knowing "din" is another attribute of this sense of the Creator. Ayn-sof, on the other hand, maybe taking this tact of the Greek apeiron--the Indefinite, is our sense of the Absolute, an All or Nothing affair. And THOUGHT is materially the fire where we emerge as something conceptual, as opposed to emptiness--as observable as that may be too... See the Good and the Bad as inter-changeably being born conceptually or found in emptiness, is yet the dialect of mutually arising opposites. Rather we are pulled into symbiosis and that may be without entirely any value statement. The Muslims have this narrative with Nimrod casting Abraham into the fire (coming out of our tradition), which becomes cool like the lotus flower , which making its character known pulls Jews thus further East (definitely this one *ME*--yet my ancestor Jews would have consorted with this myth too a thousand yrs ago), as we see him in contemplation of the heavens, I suppose. The Jews have an angel--could be Gabriel-- who comes and leads him out of the holocaust to be regarded as a "friend" of G-d, witnessed by his detractors. --my reading comes from Joseph Guttman's book on "Sacred Images."

SHADOW-PLAY=Jah like that!!!

I once characterized a watchmen over my domicile as a shadowy persona, while dreaming of my repose in dream-state. So, there over against the wall adjacent to my bed was an officer-like guy, like he'd been this hold-out for my feeling that these conscious barriers--manifestly the sense of a kind of power-spot in which I lived, were dissipating
"under the shadows of rescue" is lyricked by Bob Marley in Hallelujah Time off of Burning..."as we go singing, by & by." There is a book about a this Polish reporter's travels in Africa, it is called something interesting implying that the sun has its own shadow, as in something even brighter casts its rays upon a subject sun. I thought about this with a measure of asceticism, and that we can be converged upon by greater things than ourselves...ultimate realities are giving us context & awareness all the time, then "reason" shines a brighter light than the material objectivity we see in the suns immanence. Or rather if we have cosmic consciousness, it emanates from even more immense distances than our claim of even our own sun.
The minor hikes I took thru my neighborhood of my growing-up, took me through Beaumont park, a place of a lot of my changes--where I'd go and read and find reprieve under the boughs of maples, next to an old cistern. On thru the park, sometimes in a few hesitant moments, my only accompaniment was my shadow--and it felt less than auspicious because I had already filtered out self-INflection from the earthy loam of my empty cast in waves of bluegrass. So, what my mind did gather was lighted boundaries around my physical cast upon the ground, around the eyes too!!--yet the rest of the black pith of self was gray grass tethered to what I so vaguely wanted to transcend...
The word kaleidoscope as a descriptive term is never used, seriously I never see it, but it announces a lot of obvious ideation into a compounding hammer=the thud of a construction piece, like language is verbose..., like verging on too much all at once. Rushdie may have used it, but his mural-istic play on words takes me to it, regardless. In Midnight’s Children, the children born on the eve of India’s inception of modern independence, all have strange powers. This one youth can go to the intimate histories of those neighbors & family members whilst their minds have stored these scenarios & they are ambulatory w/ everyday-ness thru his anonymity of his perception . So to imagine someone whose mental imagery is not an equinox of the minds they are projecting consciously, but rather as trails left in innocent pug-marks they’ve not been able to expunge, & therefore as clues & gestures to an ulterior reality. When I was likely exactly 15, my friend & I would climb up on this church roof, across from Lexington School, into its steeple’s roof. So one afternoon public school being out that day & private schools still in attendance, I alone got up in the steeple, but sat in a kind of screened in area below the pinnacle, obfuscated enough from the height & angle that the mothers & their kids couldn’t see me. It all seemed so purposeful. Jolly walking rich brats, some morose ones et cetera, were all lending to my intuitive faculty but not as construal of actually what "they" may do next (there was a big question to muse over), but only in that I was jettisoned out of unknown imaginary day’s quality to a perceptive map-like cognizance—a compelling animal hunt, though they themselves manifested what quarry was to be divulged. So cars & sheens from windshields , or his/her friend on the way would be this, or the rest of the day instantly surmised, perhaps a solvent impermanence & a threshold never to be reckoned again…
I'm beginning to appeal to all the sincere metrics--good folks are telling me--of their artistic acquiring of self-knowledge - its effort--like dhammapada is what you know, and knowing what I defer as the best reggae album I have ever heard, gets me sprung from under the hand OF all that Marley I know--that context I see--many days as a student of his moral strain. Marley's dad was a Sefardic Jew, a Syrian, yet a British subject. Bob is more likely to have that secular crowd in Israel listen to his influence than radio provides in our middling America. Significant to me in thinking of Israelis as Progressives, and those who are finding themselves as part of a sea of humanity (even viewing the reality as neighbors to Syrians & Lebanese) despite its roiling plash against the rocks of fundamentalism. Reggae was what rooted me more than anything else, and the Jewish thing as the root in ascetic self-knowledge, meanwhile, added to the conscious music--the train to get on, like life portending a long road, is Rasta ideals having me pace the long ends of the day's river of sight. There is a lot of jamming on Third World's first album, a singularity if at its terminal auditive universe, we look up from what Marley calls intra-mantra slavery, and see it speaks right to us. A statement of presence, the presence of Mind sublimating us in relationship, reliably similar with the Jewish tip if we appeal to "Jah" like the Greater Reality compels us from Without...the Ineffable, as we become His experienced-form is but accessible when gods are looked upon as Layered-Reality=wherever it is we find ourselves the convergence of I & Nature!! Integrating what is actually disparate notions in Buddhist thought, looks to me like immense powers mutually arising as I forage in Eastern Thought langour supposed piece-meal by the likes of Kerouac, or indicated by Alan Watts, yet thru my jaded lense. If Avalokiteshvara laid his diamond hand upon the numinous impulse looking at black fire abstraction lying on white fire pallets (this medium), then the semblance my mind allows for is vipassana--a visual of deep-aside that carries me thru patterns of remorseless days...just freedom transpiring.