Think of a Wheel . . .

As it sits, can’t be used for much.

But if a hole is drilled through the center an axle can be inserted.

It is what is NOT there that turns this wooden, spoked circle into the classic invention of all time.

Think of your mind as the representation of the top picture. Filled, unable to add to its uses, just a decoration.

It’s the center hole – the Nothingness – that enables the Infinite.

It’s Your Choice, Isn’t It?

We awake and wonder, ‘what will encumber us today?’ A continuation of yesterday’s problems, or is a new dilemma conjuring itself together?

But we pick a train and head down the well-worn track, tail between our legs.

Or, perhaps some magical shift occurs. One which causes us to forget about our preconceived agendas. As the to-do’ list is thought about, it vanishes.

Is the world yours to shape in the image of your highest values? Do you actually believe, and value, that statement?

The wonderment of it all is awaiting you and your little ship . . .

out beyond where you fear to go.

Fixin’ to Get into Trouble . . . You Comin’?

“When I was little and running on the race track at school, I always stopped and waited for all the other kids so we could run together even though I knew (and everybody else knew) that I could run much faster than all of them!

I pretended to read slowly so I could “wait” for everyone else who couldn’t read as fast as I could! When my friends were short I pretended that I was short too and if my friend was sad I pretended to be unhappy.

I could go on and on about all the ways I have limited myself, my whole life, by “waiting” for people. And the only thing that I’ve ever received in return is people thinking that they are faster than me, people thinking that they can make me feel bad about myself just because I let them and people thinking that I have to do whatever they say I should do.

My mother used to teach me “Cinderella is a perfect example to be” but I have learned that Cinderella can go fuck herself, I’m not waiting for anybody, anymore! I’m going to run as fast as I can, fly as high as I can, I am going to soar, and if you want you can come with me! But I’m not waiting for you anymore.”

The Infinite’s Flip-side

Why would you read if what you already read satisfied all your curiosities?

Did searching eyes catch you alone with your emptiness again? Did a dark gap take on illumination? Does it now beg for a name? Do you wonder about a definition, its meaning, its importance?

It’s another time to have to explain away your actions . . . to yourself.

Disturbing.

Too many steps . . .

into the ‘Irreverent’.

Flashes at Sunsets

Wash your coffee cup. Set it out to dry. Notice it.

You put your hand in hers. She put her hand in yours. Once upon a time.

The fragile components closest to you now, those cherished and revered . . . will become clouds and will disperse to unknown skies.

Everything is impermanent. Buoyant logs float, but with attachment comes fear. Before reaching, consider non-attachment and ownership.

Moments pass. All of them. People walk away. Others enter. They all deserve the Freedom to do that.

Look to the west . . . at dusk.

The Flock

With a flock comes ‘credulity’, the willingness to believe most anything on slight or uncertain evidence.

When morning comes the flock will have its back to the sunrise. Happy to continue devouring yesterday’s fodder just like it’s been done for all the days before that. Content to wallow in the uncertainty and falsehoods shared by every other member of the flock. But don’t forget the repetition!

What is the allure of a flock . . . ? Everyone sharing the same beliefs while using the same repeated rhetoric? A place where no one is challenged, where there is safety in the combined credulity!

The flock serves its purpose for many. For lifetimes, individuals adhere to the beliefs, accept the meeting times and act and respond with the ‘correct’ and accepted and necessary reply to the learned liturgy.

No harm done, but please don’t try to encourage me to become part of the play. I don’t do scripts well.

That leaves but one poignant question. What to do when . . .

someone is a member of a flock and wakes one morning and forgets to have her back to the sunrise and a blast of pure sunlight begins to bring doubts about the veracity of some of the tenets which the flock believes?

And the doubts linger. And the person comes to grips with the idea that what she has been holding on to all these years is only wishful thinking, at best. And the concept of ‘honesty’ enters her mind. She begins being brutally honest with herself because she starts to address herself as a pure individual and not as a part of some flock.

Being honest with yourself. How unimaginably beautiful a concept. And not just honest when it is convenient. But out in the middle of that field where there is not one individual in a hundred miles that shares your conviction. When personal honesty begins to penetrate that, you are on the right path.

Turn and stare into the sunrise – face to face. Take absolute responsibility for every thought you hold and every action you take. For once, be absolutely honest with yourself. Put your credulity under a microscope. Examine what is lodged in your heart.

Perhaps that perfection, that Freedom, that Infinite, is within everyone . . .

just waiting to be born.

The not-so-subtle Nudge

Sometimes the Infinite gives people a nudge. During some perfunctory action (aren’t they all?) an interruption occurs. And perhaps it’s not even a bonafide ‘interruption’ of time but merely a fissure in it.

It’s like a whisper that brings along with it an unusually high strain of importance and thus commands our attention for a fleeting second. It comes with a flash of clarity, like an alert, portending an abnormally large force nearby. And for an instant we are subjected to an unexpected heartbeat of insight that there just might be something greater out there than to which we are accustomed, something much greater.

However, with these nudges come no accompanying warnings. There are no red lights, no sirens – just fissures. And with nothing strident, as subtly as they appear, they evaporate – ironically leaving nothing but random flecks of memory about some latent ‘potentiality’ that some day we promise ourselves to explore more thoroughly.

While a ‘finite’ player may play to be powerful, an ‘Infinite’ player plays with strength. Our vision is the limitation, not what we are viewing.

A finite player puts play into time. An Infinite player puts time into play.

The ‘nudge’ is not to bring us to silence.

The ‘nudge’ is to bring us to speech . . . because of its silence.