Gibberish...


Infinity is job security for astronomers who play in the shallows of deep space forever.

(Deep space being what we are, ships and scopes and science take us inward.)

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Wake

Buddhism’s truth, here-now, is life itself.

Reality is the Dharma. Truth is the Dharma.

This is the opposite of magical thinking and mysticism. It’s the opposite of sectarianism. It has nothing to say about self-improvement (ego-improvement, me-improvement, situation-improvement).

Buddhism’s truth precedes Buddhism, discovered not created by Shakyamuni, his predecessors and successors (us).

It’s called Dharma, impermanence, nonduality, spaciousness, emptiness…

It’s the self-releasing nature of all apparent objects and thoughts.

It’s inherent and unavoidable. It’s inconceivable as the essence of concepts and unbelievable as the voidness of fixed beliefs.

We discover that we can’t discover it.

Then we acutely feel the agony caused by the blind compulsion to do the impossible—to find it!

(Like trying to move an immovable object—an object that turns out to be pure motion and not an object at all.)

Feeling, here, is crucial. Feeling agony, suffering, stress, fear, greed.

Until pain becomes teacher. Not a lecturer! It’s the instant, paradoxical messenger of here-now freedom and joy—a flash, a slap—not to be drawn out, captured, restrained, contained, or anaesthetized.

Just observed, listened-to.

This trickster-teacher inhabits our chronic angst, wears it like a skull-mask of paper or sugar.

It cuts a wake through the ocean, powered by its dissolution.

A wake through the Dharma-ocean of our true self.

(The wake is a hint that we should turn around. Now. Without waiting, without "healing.")

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Instead of looking the right way you look the wrong way. Perfect.

​Just look at your wrong-way-looking.

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Grasping, like gravity, like a muscle spasm, does what it does, unconsciously.

Unconscious grasping mind rushes toward it, toward grasping, toward itself, grasping its graspers, prying open everything but itself.

​Caveat: none of this happens.

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Shinshu is not a practice, with a goal. Shinshu, meaning true Buddhism or Buddhism’s truth, points to here-now nondual reality (Dharma as impermanence).

Any practice must exist within truth alongside nonpractice. (Where else is there?) In that sense, effortful, progressive practices are equal to “nonpractices” within universal Dharma.

No-thingness is no-thingness as every apparent thing. This world isn’t one of fixed objects; fixedness can’t happen in this world. Because it can’t happen it has never happened except in our imaginings which are themselves unfixed.

Our fixations are fluid and this fluid is always gone. Practice is gone. Practicer is gone. Goals are gone. This will be as true later as it is now with or without practice.

This isn’t an idea or a dualistic personal experience (i.e. experiencer-plus-experience). It’s life, even as this lifeform curls into a ball of doubt or practice.

...This squeeze-ball is the fluid form we take in this doubtless realm where “is” never was!

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Reality’s unfixedness fixes (cures) everything. This is “healing” — in a flash.

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I do two things: I see the truth and I write about my truth-seeing.

By truth I mean error and by truth-seeing I mean error-seeing.

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Life is composed of instant freedom. Call this instant freedom “gold.”

Changes in shape and size, molten or cold...nothing alters our essential element.

​Au(m).

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Is the teacher ponderous or light?

Do they compress or decompress your focus?

Do they own your DNA? Are you buying it back?

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Thoughts are gone. You can’t show me one that isn’t.

Stop digging up corpses.

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So many dharma-choices, so many authorities.

You’ll transmigrate from one to another. That’s inevitable.

Before you hop back on, look around:
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Here-now is not a path. The future is a dream.

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Inward-turning mind rows its boat against the Dharma-current. Uses a crowbar for an oar.

All our upstream goals are siren songs.

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We are all members of this club. To activate your membership retrieve the coupon sent to you just prior to conception. You’ll find it tucked inside your refusal to believe.

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​We receive wisdom in the form of outside-words about our own out-flowing nature.

These boomerangs enter our heads and exit our hearts.

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The river is infinitely wide. The current is infinitely strong. Still the unconscious imperative is to dam it.

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Dharma-happiness never waits. It is nondependent, noncontingent.

Bodymind’s inward-turning efforts to achieve happiness are futile. Discovering this futility is the discovery of prior Dharma-happiness.

​Happiness within? No. Within happiness.

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Under all circumstances, every minute of every day: the Gift.

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​Donuts, buoys, arrows, tubes, and U

As I see it, “self-power” is a donut-shaped ring around our spacious hearts. It’s a heavy anchor in the shape of a lifebuoy. When we cling to it, we sink, and we can’t breathe.

The same heart-spaciousness surrounds the donut, so we are, crazily, sinking in spaciousness (impermanence). But this is a painful problem only as long as we cling to the heavy buoy. When we spontaneously release it here and now we naturally float to the “surface” and breathe freely.

We float up — onto and outside the surface of inwardness, of thought, of clinging, of self and self-power. This happens every time we notice that our inward-turning (our self-love, our musty “me”-narrative) is causing us to cling to a lifebuoy that is actually a death-buoy. (The truth or falseness of this metaphor can be tested, experimented with. See for yourself if clinging to a dead weight helps or hinders free breathing!)

Another donut image: the spacious center is an out-flowing; it is natural non-accumulation. And the spacious context outside the donut is the same out-flowing. The donut itself is a ring of confusion and despair. It, too, is out-flowing (impermanence, spaciousness)! But it is programmed to act otherwise and attempt the impossible: to turn inward and accumulate (knowledge, ego-strokes, security, superiority…). Inconveniently, its true nature, goneness, makes successful accumulation impossible. But the painful survival-compulsion to get and keep keeps trying and trying until…

Graphically, the center of the donut and the donut’s infinite context are identically composed of arrows that point out. The heavy donut ring itself is also composed of out-pointing arrows, but these confused, neon-flickering jitters are trying like hell to point inward.

(Compare this effort to an innertube trying hysterically to swim back up Niagara Falls.)

Our innermost desire is to flow outward, coincident with reality. Our true nature is given away, not kept. Fear- and greed-based keeping (impossible) is a you-turn effort that hurts you and me and the world.

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When I see that I’m dreaming — that’s awakeness. It has occurred.

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The words that lead up to our wordlessness are different but our wordlessness is the same.

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Our boundaries and names don’t separate, they join:

“A” and “C” look separated by “B” but they are, objectively, “ABC.”

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My karmic distress has infinite roots. I can’t beat it.

​So I float on the surface of my defeat.

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1. Listen to the words of the buddhas, the awakened ones, i.e. actual human beings past and present who have awakened to grasping self-power (fear-greed) in themselves.

2. Examine yourself and examine your bodymind’s physical reactions to these buddhas’ words.

​3. Question everything.

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The world doesn’t receive my ideas, it produces them.

I flavor them as a flavoring produced by the world.

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​“Seeing/feeling is transcending.”

“Error is teacher.”

This is true religion.

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Newness contradicts fear. It says, “I don’t care about that.”

Even face-to-face with a new fear it can’t help but bust through with a new face.

(Dying, old poet cries “This is new!”)

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​As I low-crawl through muck I hear my shadow whisper “Sun.”

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Inflow is false and perceivable.

Outflow is true and imperceivable.

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My selfone battery is drained by the constant, roaming effort to connect with the Holy Tower of self-enhancement...

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Before: wake up, then fall back asleep.

​After: sleep, then fall back awake.

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I capture life by cupping my hands and then my entire bodymind around it.

Splashing and spilling enrage me.

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Confused mind turns to higher-level confusion for relief.

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Despite the absence of inward, we turn there.

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Torso only “knows” what it feels.

It knows tension as tension.

Cause and color are headtrips, sloughed.

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Beyond word-play, “not-two” (nonduality) embraces and contains the knot, too (the gut-knot).

Nondual reality (impermanence) is the reality, the actuality, of this body-mind’s fear-greed contraction and everything else.

My ordinary life is Dharma, my reactivity is teacher.

I wear this baggy realm of freedom.

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My mental tangent is an automaticity of the body of the world.

​(“Mental tangent” is a redundancy, a stutter.)

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The “pure pleasure” Dharma-crazies sing about is purified of experience.

There is no experience of it.

It’s like the fulsome ecstasy of extreme terror: if you’re unlucky, there’s a memory of it.

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As early as the first cry we’re given way too much, when our singular greed is for one breast, one pill, one death.

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I recoil from the notion and intuition of impermanence because, to this ego-self, it represents nonexistence, death. Even as, to my inner, out-flowing, “spiritual” aspiration for freedom, it represents life.

I call the recoil from impermanence “fear-greed” or “the primal No,” as in “No, not this, not here, not now” (which is also desire for “that, there, then, else”). It’s the habitual rejection of what “is.”

This “No”—this present-moment rejection of the reality of impermanence—is called self-power. In the Shinshu phrase “namu-amida-butsu,” it’s namu. It’s the error embedded in the (amida-butsu) truth. Amida-butsu symbolizes True Reality, the Dharma of impermanence.

Namu-amida-butsu is the awakening, here and now, to self-power-in-action—delusion-in-action, falsity-in-action—as it tries to resist its own ceaseless out-flowing in-and-as impermanence.

“In-and-as impermanence” refers to the nonduality, the “one taste,” of error and truth; in other words, to the actual impermanence of apparent permanence and apparently fixed objects like concepts and other delusions.

The concepts (dreams) that boil up as a result of the fear-greed bodymind contraction (grasping and attachment sustain these hallucinations) are relinquished when the pain of grasping and attaching to them is clearly seen, felt, and spontaneously confessed.

Self-power, when caught in the act, itself becomes in a flash or “one thought-moment” the sudden, silent suspension of self-binding, of contraction, of coil and recoil. I can see what I'm chronically, painfully doing, and so this bodymind, habitually grasping, loses the compulsion-inspiration to contain (retain, possess, hoard) the out-flow.

When the grasping compulsion is seen, it expires: “Ah? Ha!” This goes on all the time.

Freedom is discovered here-and-now negatively through the unmasking of the active binding agent: self-power. Self-power is the in-pulling “No” (unreality) that’s erased by its own ultimate nature as out-flowing, impermanent “Yes” (reality).

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​In zangedo (confession praxis) I don’t dwell on it, I just blurt it out: “This is me, three poisons.”

Or it blurts me out.

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I wash up onto the shore. I’m beached.

Then I’m drug back into the depths of thought, mood, libido, mortido...

Then I wash back up again, blinking, blurry, breathless:

This primeval career.

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I have a tally clicker. I click it every time I note that I’m recoiling from what is into fear-greed, or I’m recoiling from fear-greed itself.

Click.
Click.
Click.

A running tally of my successes.

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This is so subtle and so immediate it precedes you.

You can’t grasp it but you can easily grasp your grasping.

​When you do you’ve accomplished everything.

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​I’m so jealous of the peace that contains me. I’m so deranged and it’s so arranged or vice versa.

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Locate and isolate the doubt — the No — and you find its boundless context.

Boundless, as in, unhindered by doubt.

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​You find the contradiction by accident.

You hear the preacher. You wait for the inconsistency. But you won’t find it on purpose. So you surrender to the sermon, let it wash over you.

Then, like a pricked nerve or a foot-cramp on the cusp of a nap — there! The false note. Ouch!

There’s a noiseless crack and the whole structure crumbles.

The contradiction is the exploding key. And the exit.

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Peace of mind?

Peace of beyond-mind.

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Temperament is not a factor when it comes to waking up.

For example, take my polluted temperament: despite it, I’m awake to it.

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My personality is differentiated.

Our reality is undifferentiated.

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Doubt and hesitation, like thoughts in general, have no extension in spacetime.

We construct them ongoingly from raw emptiness.

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I wake up to, not from, the crazy presumption of permanence.

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​Attention (consciousness) is appetite.

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“No not this not here not now not me” revealed as “Yes. This. Here. Now. Me.”

Not through acceptance but through simple recognition of nonacceptance.

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The H-line (horizontal) is intersected at every point by the V-line (vertical). Somethingness intersected by nothingness here.

The intersection point — the point where H and V are the same — is their mutual zero point. It’s their identity.

But horizontal mind is peering through this zero point as if it’s a porthole, looking for vertical mind beyond.

This observation isn’t captured as a knowledge point. Rather, the effort-to-capture, itself, is found to be a hoax, a joke.

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Fear-greed — f & g — effigy— every iffy effing thing nailed to an aching flame: one crux to rep the rest...

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All my constant problems are “within.”

Not mundane problems. I’m talking about spiritual problems: psychological, emotional, philosophical — the Spawn of Angst.

But “within” is a verbal construct. Without words, there is no “within.”

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The automatic default to problem-consciousness is fear-mind’s love of gravity.

​And gravity is weightless.

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Untouched by the tyranny of concepts due to their inherent voidness...

This a priori liberation from stagnation is absolute.

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There’s the recoil, and then the recoil from recoiling.

Rejection of what is, and then rejection of rejection.

Fear, and then fear of fear.

​All of which are gone.

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Welcome to the “Isle of Gold” where even our refusal to see universal goldness is gold.

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​Thing (ice) melts into no-thing (water).

Delusion into reality.

But ice is water.

“More ice: more water.” (Shinran)

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Existence-as-appetite, this famished life.

​Blue sky.

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The freedom-flash is its own validation. No second opinion.

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Note the simultaneity and goneness of our experience. That is our oneness.

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Freedom is reduced to a simple recognition that’s erased as it erases.

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Society’s fears (family fears) are your fears, and they are countless. But when you count them all as one society fears you.

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The chatterbox doesn’t disappear. It moves from front to back.

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Ask “who am I?” and you’re stuck in destructive continuation.

Ask “what am I?” and you creatively end it.

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Factually, it’s impossible to create a fixed object.

​But people can’t care about that because “care” applies only to things.

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Does the brain squeeze the guts or do the guts squeeze the brain?

It’s the squeezing that hurts, and its production of spiritual bile.

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Head-stories, turned edgewise, are like radio static, with banjos, in a wood chipper.

Until the gravity of the fleshy ear molds them back into shapes and places them “right-side up” between mirrors.

In the infantile hope that death is afraid of shiny wafers.

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​Look up from your device at least once.

​By “device” I mean thought-stream.

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True Dharma words evict.

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This universe is anthropomorphic: without content.

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The entire Dharma of the Real Me is hidden in plain sight: it occupies its own denial.

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This karmic self, composed of Non-Karmic Self, lives within Non-Karmic Self.

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Nisargadatta Maharaj’s pronounced view “I Am That” is nonduality; it’s a boiled-down expression of ineluctable oneness. His “natural yoga” is a non-path path of instant recognition of Advaita-reality, not-twoness, or dynamic no-thing-ness.

The Ch’an (Zen) insight expressed in the well-known and variously translated “hsin hsin ming” is also “not-two,” an instant recognition of the impossibility of duality and boundaries.

The sudden Dzogchen shout “PHAT!” startles and instantly shatters the apparent formation of mind-objects; it’s a flash/recognition of the falseness of duality and thingness.

The nondual Shin Buddhist phrase namu-amida-butsu is also a recognition—a recognition of the impossibility of permanence, of fixed objects, of a true separate self in reality.

The formation of the illusory or limited self is like a whirlpool of water in the ocean; the whirlpool (aka, ocean water) is not cured or eliminated; it is, itself, recognized as impermanence!

These apparently disparate teachings tell us essentially the same thing. They all point to the living Dharma in (as) us, and they work to bust it out of the dungeons our minds have created—in our heads, our hearts, our guts, our tenseness. No, they expose the dungeons as void.

The living Dharma—the “light”—pours out of us, despite us. We thought we were recipients but we’re source!

The jail-bars are mirages created by our own well-trained (ill-trained) bodyminds, but they only sustain the appearance of solidity for the duration of our active insistence that the bars exist. Upon recognition, that insistence loses its fuel, its force. The bars are gone. They were always gone.

Nisargadatta’s nothingness is Zen’s emptiness is Dzogchen’s spaciousness is Shin’s impermanence. All of which are the living Dharma, the “Pure [flowing] Land” that (metaphorically) pours from, not to, our hearts through recognition of the error of the presumption of permanence.

Through the error? This is, in a sense, a negative view: we recognize, in a flash, our chronic coil and recoil in the face of this flowing reality. We doubt that this ungraspability is safe. We fear it because we are trained to see the death of the separate (illusory) self as a real death—but it’s life!

With the honorable exception of Nisargadatta, this is the Mahayana Buddhist view (if labels are necessary). Shakyamuni didn’t talk about God, he talked about self-examination and the recognition of self-caused suffering.

Impermanence (nothingness, emptiness, spaciousness…reifications all) is inescapable reality. We doubt that and suffer. We fear it instead of trust it. But recognition of that doubt and fear, and the fist-like constriction it forms in our bodyminds (that forms our bodyminds into constriction) is itself “true entrusting.” In other words, recognition (confession) of failure is success! Initially this is hard to accept, but sooner or later our ingrained view shows itself to be absurd and painful. In that sense, the error is the teacher and we wake up — to error.

When the perfect freedom of impermanence confronts us—in a flash—we chill out; it's as if we exhale all the falsehoods we’ve been clinging to.

AH? HA!

And, as Nisargadatta said, “this must go on all the time.”

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Many people counseled him against happiness. Not in so many words but somehow the lessons he retained were on the negative side.

The unspoken messages were the ones that really stuck. The only thing he did was criticize and self-criticize 24/7.

Then a really odd thing happened. Or it happened, in a way, without happening.

Without any actual changes to his fucked-up self he opened his fucked-up eyes

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Her top-knot opened like a bud. Follicles exhaled mile-long strands.

All that hair, in a reverse sunlit waterfall, sucked back into a cliff above the clouds.

Straight from this klieg light crown, died-dead neurons, plucked out like roots, popped in a seltzer-rush of sudden ecstatic baldness.

All but her furry tongue.

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