Seagull flies outside the window, and I mistake it for a helicopter.
Not as absurd as it sounds, if you include the context - which is that said window is 24 floors above street level and that we live in the shadow of coastal mountains, and the collective exhale of those mountains creates a bridal veil of mist between there and here.
Thoughts of physics and light refraction and cognitive processing flood me as I settle into the fact that it is a bird. From there, how I should best spend my time to really, REALLY see what is going on in the world around me; how it all starts here, with me, and if my perceptual slate is not clean, how can I know myself and how can I help others?
Pez up, brother.
And I do. It's a monster Pez, this, so big that it cuts off the oxygen going down, it cuts off the life force going down, it fades me to ...
outside experience, where I realize that the images of self imolation in the ingestion of this were just that - images that I was watching.
Get it?
Me here. images there. Separation. Realization of separation, release.
Back to the computer, several hours of productive and non-productive activities braided together into a pyschic rope that leads me to Otis and the world beyond and THAT world beyond is
Hold it, world beyond. On the commute now, and trip up on the verbiage.
Pez up, brother.
And after the spirtual gag reflex subsides, I see
language is frozen thought, thought was that the world is beyond.
Separation, realization of separation, separation dissolved, release
...released into space of relationship, where the duality is so pronounced it's like emotional branding...
eyes, contact, move away (pez up!); anxiety, tension, move away (pez up!), distraction (from what?, pez up), qualification, judgement, pez Up!
And finally, like meditation where realizing I am away actually brings me here, the duality wave peaks get closer and closer together till I can hop from one to another to another, then lie down on them and BE the essence that only appears to bridge - because there is nothing to bridge and sleep into dreamless sleep which, upon waking, turns into another concept that separates and boundaries itself from me. Or I from it.
Pez up.
Showing posts with label judgement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label judgement. Show all posts
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Just a Spoon Full of Toxins
Nice hat.
I look at the raven sticking out of my chest and push him back.
He's hungry this morning, and I know what THAT means. Lot's of colour commentary. Well, more like grayscale commentary, it's all black or shades of black.
I have a feeling I know who's holding his leash, but maybe I'll have a look anyways
Nice driving. Nice makeup. Nice attitude.
He's pulled out of my chest further this time, trying to pull his wing out, stuck like he's exiting an aberrant birth canal. So I reach down and pull him out - awareness is supposed to dissolve his kind, but I have the distinct feeling that today might be one of those exception days.
Not even grateful as I pull him free, just looks at me with jaundiced fire-eyes, unashamedly takes a chunk of flesh from my arm (subtle body, but the bleeding that's left there is almost worse than what a 'real' pound of flesh would be), cacks something up that crawls up to my mouth and is swallowed before I can see what it is.
But I can feel what it is. It's the leash. Ego's got this little fucker on a leash. And I have Ego on a leash, so theoretically, I can reign in Ego, and judgment will be caged as the little shitty song-bird it is but
Oh that's nice. Cut me off. Learn how to drive, fucker
but it looks like Carlos is off and at 'em. Maybe I'll just listen for a while.
But Carlos's words are becoming context now, or better put they are FILLING context around me like a jaundiced yellow pudding. It's pulling at my legs now, plugging my ears and gumming up my eyes. Every pure input I have is now subject to this, and it's a nasty plague kids. Even as I clear the sense canals out, it's STILL there, a curtain in front of perception and perspective.
And I look over at him, perched on my shoulder, expecting to be assaulted by small words of attack, but it's WAY beyond that. He's got a fire hydrant stream of yellow ghoulash coming up and he's directing it everywhere I look, everywhere I listen from.
Ego's laughing his wiry little ass off.
Interesting, that. Ego normally presents as a bloated pig, stewing in his own juices and whatever he pulls down from Id World, but today's he's all but naked. And not a pretty sight. But what's interesting is that it takes a LOT of effort for him to keep Carlos dancing like a kite at the end of the string. Lot of energy to keep the ...
Separation
up.
And with this insight, Carlos turns and looks at me, a little chagrined, but more than that, a little
worried?
About his survival. And with THAT observation, he's vacuumed back through the chest cavity, Ego fattens up, and I'm back in control again, thank the g...
Nice Hat.
shuka sha.
I look at the raven sticking out of my chest and push him back.
He's hungry this morning, and I know what THAT means. Lot's of colour commentary. Well, more like grayscale commentary, it's all black or shades of black.
I have a feeling I know who's holding his leash, but maybe I'll have a look anyways
Nice driving. Nice makeup. Nice attitude.
He's pulled out of my chest further this time, trying to pull his wing out, stuck like he's exiting an aberrant birth canal. So I reach down and pull him out - awareness is supposed to dissolve his kind, but I have the distinct feeling that today might be one of those exception days.
Not even grateful as I pull him free, just looks at me with jaundiced fire-eyes, unashamedly takes a chunk of flesh from my arm (subtle body, but the bleeding that's left there is almost worse than what a 'real' pound of flesh would be), cacks something up that crawls up to my mouth and is swallowed before I can see what it is.
But I can feel what it is. It's the leash. Ego's got this little fucker on a leash. And I have Ego on a leash, so theoretically, I can reign in Ego, and judgment will be caged as the little shitty song-bird it is but
Oh that's nice. Cut me off. Learn how to drive, fucker
but it looks like Carlos is off and at 'em. Maybe I'll just listen for a while.
But Carlos's words are becoming context now, or better put they are FILLING context around me like a jaundiced yellow pudding. It's pulling at my legs now, plugging my ears and gumming up my eyes. Every pure input I have is now subject to this, and it's a nasty plague kids. Even as I clear the sense canals out, it's STILL there, a curtain in front of perception and perspective.
And I look over at him, perched on my shoulder, expecting to be assaulted by small words of attack, but it's WAY beyond that. He's got a fire hydrant stream of yellow ghoulash coming up and he's directing it everywhere I look, everywhere I listen from.
Ego's laughing his wiry little ass off.
Interesting, that. Ego normally presents as a bloated pig, stewing in his own juices and whatever he pulls down from Id World, but today's he's all but naked. And not a pretty sight. But what's interesting is that it takes a LOT of effort for him to keep Carlos dancing like a kite at the end of the string. Lot of energy to keep the ...
Separation
up.
And with this insight, Carlos turns and looks at me, a little chagrined, but more than that, a little
worried?
About his survival. And with THAT observation, he's vacuumed back through the chest cavity, Ego fattens up, and I'm back in control again, thank the g...
Nice Hat.
shuka sha.
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