Learning step by step to redress a limited morality Day 733

This week I had conversation with people in very different positions in this world. I have learned to become quiet and listen with greater ease. Meaning instead of reacting I listen, to hear the forms, to see the ‘ numbers’ placed before me, as the measure of the information.  

I have two memories coming up recently. One recent and one from my childhood.  

The first is while I am working in a  school. There is a boy in the room, it is a remediation , or invention class. This boy is behind in his ability to read and process information. The teacher comes and asks the boy why he signed up for a class that he knows he can only take once- as the boy has already had this class. The boy then moves this into a conversation as to why he can only take the class once. The teacher responding. After the boy leaves, this teacher gets on the phone and goes through the whole conversation again with a colleague.  I watch all of this, somehow it is a time frame of busyness that is a comfort zone, a distraction. The boy, so isolated from his peer group, grasps as moments of verbal interaction, to have something to live. He knows he cannot repeat that special class that is popular. The teacher joining in the topic to engage the child, and using the topic to fill the space and entertain, because real problem solving as processing information is not happening and it is the problem.  Ironic that the mechanics used are the thing needing greater definition, greater self reflection within what one lives in real space as what one expresses, as a math that has no real direct seeing movement. It is like an elongated song, a math, imposed on being grounded in this reality.  It is like a bubble of drama, or draw-me, imposed on the space that is a self seeking connection yet the connection is a false positive, as engagement is a fundamental drive. Yet this drama, done with words and values, is sidestepping a real awesomeness of being present in all that is here, as the physical.  It is, by default, a comfort zone melody/math/soap opera filled with good intentions, yet missing the mark, not seeing itself as a separation from the capacity of itself to see the distraction it is by the very nature of a lack of presence in real space. 

This also happened with talking to a friend. This person has had one of the best educations our country provides. She has attended the best schools.  We were talking about history, when she made a statement that I have heard and could see the accepted logic of in relation to ideas about changes in time away from what is considered being spiritual. It was a statement that science caused a loss of spirituality. When this statement was made, I countered it by saying that this could be said of any change as recorded and voiced by our system. This naturally caused a lot of friction and I had to stop, listen and allow the rant of defensive for platitudes to play itself out.  I checked myself even when it was said that I had to be righteous at the end of the response my words elicited. I even agreed that I had been righteous, and that what was said was a standard  formula that was stated. Naturally this brought on more reaction. Yet, as she spoke, to some extent, she travelled through time and realize the pattern, that it could be said that there were other periods where the same argument was made that a subsequent period created a loss of something. Overall, this was a play out of knowledge and information memorized, a standard hi/high- story ( a supposed morality) of information constantly circumnavigating practical and grounded application in real space and time, in common sense of what and who we are as physical beings here.  

Even to see this, and not be as reactive towards these songs, these maths, these measure of information, took some time. Standing up to the very morality of this, meaning to speak up counter to it, even if that meant calling out patterns, knowing this would elicit reactions, I allowed to cause a lot of fear. This fear manifested as myself feeling like I was losing something. Physically I would become, just like the feeling of fear, loopy and ungrounded, like I was in a soup, losing ground.  I feared that I was going to be cast out, rejected, because I did not know, as agree with the formula, the accepted formula. Meanwhile, when this did happen, I was always here, it was only an idea within me, the loopyness myself, in a way, liquifying everything I believed as spoke as allowed, moving into a spin, a deconstruction of the information as me. I would acquiesce to not lose the relationship, for various reasons that were more of idea than anything real. What is interesting is that when I was more simple and more practical, and relaxed, as in caring but not that much, the drama stopped.  In this situation, I could see the remnants of my own fear playing out, and within the rant of justification for a standard belief, a process of self discovery as the math, as the equation of events made belief were made verbal. As the realization of a pattern via justifying the standard pattern was seen, there was an immediate movement into value judgements , this some call hyperbole.  It is that formulaic design I have seen in those blogs written by trolls, where a truth is stated and then moves into the fear tactics of value judgement, a kind of mendacious gossip that is the pulling forward of a value judgement and then suggesting worst case sceanrios. It all can appear to move like a horror show as it triggers any fears within one, and keeps one riding in an illusion that is held in place by a lack of processing what is allowed as informed that has no real relationship to practical reality. For me, moving through a morality of and as an idea that pushing against this in any way, was taboo, was mean, meant a certain rejection by the establishment. Somehow, the opposite is true, which I have found when being patient, allowing the scream of limited information to play itself out, to move into discovery or the formulaic play-out of trolling, as name calling being a distraction from that moment of realizing a pattern that would mean re-evaluating everything one had defined one's self as. 

This sense of feeling like a liquid inside myself, triggering the second memory, I am in elementary school, and suddenly the wods around me are changing, and they change from some value form, I don't remember, to the point I remember, as being this liquid thing that falls apart and reforms. In the memory, I do not react with the sense of losing ground that I have experienced as an adult. I suppose because as a child, I was still grounded in the physical to a greater degree than I have allowed myself to be as an adult. 

Interesting that I am writing this, because I have asked myself in this process where that point of separation from being focused in common sense, happens. This because I have asked question about being in a situation where I, be it imagination or a micro second in seeing through a veil, managed to see a different world perspective than what I was lost in as that information I spun in that changed in a moment for which it appeared to me that I had no control over. I wanted to see the sequences of change from one to the other. The leaps of  change happening too fast for me to process.  I suppose some tiny part of me understood that I am in a smoke and mirrors show, the ghost of which terrified me, and lead to asking the question " Where is life? It must be here, it has to be here, where is it?" 

As I learn to assess in living space what is happening around me, and I begin to realize a false morality in practice, I move into shame, and a sense of impossibility at clearing all of this up. there is a point of wanting to cry that circles around as I move through the sequences of my own experience, of my own experiences from my life. I would say the hardest from within my relationship to all of this at this point, is no longer fearing to move through an acepted and limited morality.  That being to face and address the standard line of information. This being a justification, that a method of operation, that is formulaic. Ironically, this a means that lead to a greater seeing or realizing of these patterns was through slowing down and processing the information, not fearing to lose something, as having a faith that somehow life is here, all around me, as it has to be, because life will. I would pick myself up, like a slow moving Sherman tank and try again, despite so many around me coming in with counter rationals, myself having a character that wants to cry out in hopelessness, that being a memoory from childhood, a memory of giving up in some way, as yet not clearly defined. Somehow, that is okay that it is not, because the means to this point is to keep going until the mote in every eye is clear, and what is eternal is realized. Somehow, mixed in with the fear, is a tiny sense of joy. And with that joy, is so muchshame, a realization of so much lost, I just want to cry out that I am sorry, so very sorry for not having lived the potential inherent in what men on earth can be. 

This was a loss of what I left behind, as a gentleness that had a natural patience, which I lost in my life as well in a person, something that can never come back. No one can tell me that it is not my fault, when yes it is the default of not being focused and in respect of what is all around us, and that is life, manifest as the physical.  What I project as a loss in another, is what I lost as me. The means to be this, the same patience and silence that allows a morality to play itself out, and the action of not reacting to the formula of a troll, that truth coupled with inflamatory value judgements using a false narrative with a energized voice that has only the power I give to it. My own process of choosing fear and believing the self created and accepted entity of ideas wihtin me, to seem more real than the practical.  In all I can embrace the unnatural, because it is a game of shadows and stand within what remains no matter what, that I am here, I am the same after the emotional picture show peaks and moves either into realization and/or protection and defense. That defense needing no push back and only patience, because that reaction allows me to realize my own reflection as idea, of what I have allowed. It is a gift. 

In this, overall, I can stop chasing shadows as what resistance is by name, as information, a story imposed through words -as knowledge and information - and remember who and what I am, that nothing can define me, and that I can learn the smallest of movements, to stand equal to that gentleness that is the will of me as life, here.  I can be myself,  I can gift myself life, I can recognize the paranoia of the paranormal, as the promise I made to myself that I had to become myself, to ensure that the loss of what is precious, never happens again.  Somehow, this state of being on some border, as I see it, is both a mixture of shame and joy.  There is only one choice here.

This reminds me of the slow death of my father. His body having all the characteristic tics and tensions, that slowly faded. His body became still. The energies appearing to no longer have license over the body. The body taking a couple of breaths even when he was gone. His request that he be buried next to his sisters, a telling story - as that time with his sisters, was probably the last time he remembers being really happy/grounded, just as my memory as a child.  This choice being the choice where he remembers some semblance of himself, so far back in the past. The presence of him, being more of a child, gentle and simple. How could that be?  For me, the loss of that gentleness is unacceptable.  The wall of the mind,as a false positive, a charade of separation from what is real, must be called out by name, and allowed to see itself for what it is, a personality unequal to the real potential of self to be what is natural as the inherent will of life within and as who and what we are here on this physical planet, where all plans as forms of information are visiable, even those causing separation if we simply slow down and do what we can all do so well, which is to do the math, to see the forms,  to know we can stand stable in ourselves and choose a practice of respecting the physical world around us to realize what does no harm. 

Remember to breath. 

Who am I? What do I process as information? Day 732

I had one of those situations where I realized I was not doing the math. I was not looking at the numbers, I was not looking at the equation. I simply followed something that had been said again and again, and accepted this as a truth.  I was not really LOOKING. I was not cross referencing HERE, this reality and what mendacious formula was placed to and towards me. I was not seeing the gossip. I was not processing the words, and relating them to reality in common sense. 

How much d I do this? probably more than I realize at the moment. For example, I never realized that a virus has never been found! Viruses are described by what other things are present, so what describes a virus is what the virus is not. Or, a virus supposedly must be present because other things are present.  By law, one cannot say that something happened unless the thing is measured, and yet, within viruses, we accept decisions about a virus by what it is not.  This is another one of those things that is a subtle manipulation, in that the laws say the thing justifying the means, must be measured, and yet, the dogma propagated is what something is not, thus what is used has never been proven as fact, and yet we are lead to believe, through statements as a word, as ‘ virus’ as really being something that exists, when it has not been proven to exist and yet, accept its existence and accept recommendations about it based on its  non-defined existence. I can see where I could spin around in this, and probably already am. I am a product of this system, as this was the information around me, and I followed, meaning I did not investigate beyond the string of words presented. This is how an uninformed consent happens. This in tandem with a school system that imparts a general scaffold of information without real living opportunity to investigate and direct one’s presence into a real physical understanding through living experience.  Here, I have to realize, in space, that somehow, I learned to crawl, I directed myself within that, thus I must have the capacity to move through the eye of the needle, meaning I must have the capacity to sense space, no matter how small. After all, I practice the smallest of movement of my hand to learn to vibrate on the violin, and I can see where my presence can sense that tiny change from the top of the back and forward movement of my hand with a relatively fast reading sense of the space! When it is said that one should be able to hear/here the grass growing- which I expect must be an awesome experience - it must be something we are able to do! 

This would mean that one’s focus must be HERE. 

I could also see where this would be so incredibly fulfilling, I can only imagine! The way out is not to imagine, but to focus here, in this creation in manifestation. It would be to get to now /here ( no-where, no wear, know-here) , as all of me. Yet, the separation into a bubble of imagination must be resolved, the math done, the presence here, accepting life, embracing myself and what is here,  as I would not want to be left behind, and therefor, I would not want anyone to be left behind! 

I must master what has been mastered into a mind consciousness, as imagination, that is using a limited math to live, instead of seeing directly the very math of creation here. I cannot do that alone, and yet I must do that alone, as all as one, as equal, too.

The very labor of me, must stand as this, unerringly, which is going to take practice and standing up from mistakes as I learn to realize what I accepted and allowed, as ideas, beliefs and opinions. Here, that labor of me, standing firm, staying the practical course, learning all details, processing the math of separation and the practical reality here,  as I as this, can create a movement that is sustainable, directing the labor of me into digits as the system exists, in a solid and supportive movement as no one can take that away. I am not beholden to secondary forms of support, what I am and who I am, and what I move as, stands stable, in every action, to support all as one as equal, here. It is a beautiful design! It is a design that builds real community. It is the opportunity for all to walk, on the ground, self empowerment, to be the change needed to bring heaven on earth, here. It is where the doers become the so called ‘ angel investors”, fulfilling themselves as life and spreading the living word here. 

My parents used to give me, for Christmas every year,  the figure of the hermit, the Santa Claus figure. They compared me to a person always caring a lantern, trying to bring light to things, trying to save the world. I remember being both proud of this and uncertain that it was not being used as some kind of insult. It both bothered me and excited me. Yet, this excitement that tends to cause me to rush, within this caring and throwing myself into something, is my own awe gone awry! It is myself, jumping into doing without processing what I am being within, and what is without, and the ubiquitous dogma as those ideas come to be accepted as a truth that I can blame no one for but myself, for accepting and allowing, as I did not really buckle down and investigate the details, and, as it was not modeled to learn to ‘ watch the grass grow’ meaning to really place my presence in discovering the smallest of movements that lead to a well directed self directive movement in this reality. I was too busy carrying that ‘ light’- so to speak. 

Yet, the impetus of a joy, an awe, simply tipped into ideas, as a mind consciousness,  means this can be balanced out through breathing and being present here, walking myself as my presence, with patience, back into, living here.  How awesome is that!  That is a real joy. I could weep for joy, and realize how much time I spent fighting and waring, and ignoring here, this reality. I have been doing this for so long, it is as though a part of me cannot believe I have potentially found what I had lost  and that it was always here.  It is like I left myself behind, chasing accepted mis-information. This creates a mixture of joy and shame, like how in the fuck could I have done this?  And, it was all ways, right there in front of me. I can only forgive myself, as begin to walk, in real time, discovering myself and real living, touching creation, a gift in-measurable in  the beauty of its design. I can enjoy, being here, it is who and what I am. 

Processing information and a false morality. Day 731

I begin to realize how slow I am within processing information. It is that I process information within my imagination, or my mind, abdicating myself from what is more natural, which is to see directly here.

Bumping up against the dogma that is what such a means of directing self is and does as a mis-use of the imagination. The reactions are more about myself, processing the disconnect, listening for what is a truth, and being empathetic, to give directions I would want for myself. This also involves realizing that I am the same as what is here, as all this physical world around me.

In a way, that is real power, to move what is stagnant and empty into becoming a river filled with life, with creation, with being engaged and present.

I must remind myself that thinking about playing an instrument is not playing the instrument. Playing the instrument means understanding the starting point, the smallest movements, the mechanics, and then practicing them which does not need as much time as one might think given the present systemic design of divide and conquer through beliefs, opinions and ideas without practical application. IN a way, words represent thinking and thinking is not one’s self being present. After all, I do not think when I play an instrument, I am with that tool- it demands focus more than thinking. The real divine, is being present, equal and one to the physical, which means, in this moment, for me, to value being physical, being here, sensing the physical, learning to process the information of and as it.

We have a system that wants to take an orange, for example, divide all the nutrients and sell them in parts, to manage our health, which is really us abdicating our own self responsibility to sense ourselves, of which the physical is us. We have schools that place us in boxes for 13 years, or more, and micro-manage what we think and how we think. All of this sounds good, as structure is necessary ( what is the physical?) yet it is suppressing the use of all of what we are, as we are sentient beings, here. Learning how things work in a paper context enables the control of information. That information can be divided and limited, a lie-by-omission, and it can be filled with bias ( the red flag being a formula of inflammatory language coupled to truths), because imagination and real doing are two different things. As I said, one cannot learn to play an instrument, or do a sport, thinking about it. Reading information is important, as it is how we can read about what is happening in places we physically have no presence in. Words are important because we humans use them to communicate. Reading words and speaking words are the same thing, what we sound we create, we place as measurable tools within ourselves. If what we accept, because we accept it when we follow its authority without cross reference, we place information without our physical bodies that is not directing us effectively, and does not fit into our bodies. We lose flow, our bodies age, instead of moving with grace and connection with the physical world. We lose an ability to process information that brings us into an understanding of really knowing something because we are ultimately happy when we are effectively engaged. We would only fear this if a change into such responsibility appears to be too much, such perspective revealing a state of a lack of ability to process the information of this physical reality. This would mean that we need more information, or have the space to see the steps back to ourselves as this, and realize that it is in deed, a gentle unfolding back into what we really seek, which is ourselves. IN the need, we would gladly, and respectfully, give the digits of our labor to this. It would be a way of giving thanks. 

If we go and look at a test that was given to students in the middle of the last century, probably  none of us could process the information on the test. This is how great the loss of ability, and self responsibility is within us. We have the compounding problems to mirror this effect in our children, as all the attention deficit disorders. The consequence of self abdication of self responsibility is all around us. It is there when we are sold the products in the supermarkets, that are over processed, losing nutrients, to the point where that same seller/chain has an isle filled with vitamins and supplementary products. Divide into many parts, to sell, for profit. This mirrors what we have accepted within ourselves, as it is really an abdication of our real power to be responsible. It is time to focus, here, in this physical creation that is life. The way is all around us. It is like a parent that wants what is best for all life.

The labor we do every day, being reimbursed through money, that we then define who and what we are through what we allow to be sold to us reflects our awareness, or the use of our ability to be aware. When we turn on the television, we are purchasing information, when we walk into a huge chain supermarket, we are being sold, through buying what is offered in this market. When we face new information, at a job, as a new way of doing something, we can blame nothing and no-one for a loss of our processing speed of information, because we paid for the public schools with the monetized digits of our labor through our real estate taxes, we bought what was sold and it has become our souls. We are souls who have accepted and allowed a system that simply reflects the abdication of a natural ability to process information as the physical- that world that we move in and get things done in. We have allowed a chain to exist as an authority, not realizing in accepting that, we have enslaved ourselves into a self accepted suppression of and as who we are as life. This must come to an end, and we can become responsible and be happy. 

Human beings are happy when they know something enough to do it, to stand and accomplish goals and simply get things done. In our homes we can learn how to care for that home, understanding what maintains the things from nature we use to build a house. When given the opportunity to do so, we are quite capable. The opportunity to do, to communicate with what is here, and with others, is fun. When we resist, as abdicate responsibility we suppress who and what we are, and sharing where we are in our understanding- realizing it is okay to do so because this is how we learn/correct-, which is in our connection to seeing reality directly here. 

Lately, I have looked at the point of having to say what I am. On one hand, because of the system of abdication of one’s ability to be sentient,  I have to use my systemic credentials to have some effect. Yet, having to say what I am, and what my systemic experiences are, is selling myself, instead of living what is best. This means, to speak in clarity and author what lends self direction here, in this reality. This behavior is living and being what is best for all, giving/being as I would want for another. Just as I look for potential, for what gives an awareness that is focused, engaged and potent with this physical life recognition within myself, so must I for any and all things around me. Realizing what is best for me, is what is best for all. 

lol, I realize, to some degree, I may have some morality around this point of ‘ not having to say what I am.”  It is a twisted form of indignation. Meaning, something like ‘ can’t you see my polish, my breeding!”  ( The nasty things coming from what I have accepted and allowed as belief, to survive in this system that is of and as such, and as a consequence, and within the law of compounding, a distraction from reality and a voice of self interest- this can only lead to isolation and a busyness in dogma that is not a state of being happy, real happiness!)

I have the capacity to be as water, to support this physical world, as be so clear that I can, instead of creating hyperbole to thwart and control- such as having to tell others what I am- I can ground myself and stand here, a self willed equal, as the value is realizing that taking self responsibility happens from within, and that means making mis-takes which need not define who I am, and as a process define my words into real relationships with physical living, to increase my ability to process what is here, and know what separates me from what and who I really am. I am physical. 

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to exist as a superior morality, believing that I am more polished that another.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to exist as some dark moral entity, as a belief, as words composing a thought, polarizing values, and distorting reality in and as a state of mind, as imagination without regard and respect to and towards who and what I am as a physical being, here. 

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to exist as a nasty, spiteful, verbally attacking beingness, not seeing realizing and understanding that this is myself in a petrified state of fear.

I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that this back chat that I have accepted and allowed is not what is best for me, or myself being a self willed equal to and towards life here.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to divide myself from the divine of and as the physical as life, within and as accepting and allowing judgements, comparisons, imaginations, as this is a memory of illusion , based on a past of and as separation from who and what I am as life, as the physical.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to fear a morality, within myself, as what I have allowed to define who and what I am, as false positives that have no promise into what would bring happiness, as a happiness that can withstand the test of time, this happiness being defined as being grounded and potent, here, being sentient as what and who I am as a sentient beingness , being thankful for the physical creation as life manifested.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to miss the subtle morality I have practiced and embedded, as embraced as a bed of and as who and what I am as a self definition, that lacks equality and oneness with and as the physical.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to chase a carrot on a string within and as an idea as a moral of and as the nasty words ‘ don’t you see my polish’

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand the movement of silent indignation within and as allowing such a thought as ‘ don’t you see my polish’ something practiced as protection and defense in survival, to the point where I had to slow way down, and deconstruct my own movements as energy within and as my memory, my imagination, the accumulation of ideas, as information, to define me, and for this self abdication of myself as life, as that part of me that can in capacity consider all things as this is what is natural as the potential of myself as life, here. 

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand how the use of such words as a thought, become silent and barely readable within, as ‘ don’t you see my polish’ and have come to be my own acceptances that suppress myself as life, and , as an act of comparison instead of problem solving, isolate me from what would lend happiness as the real nature of who and what I am as life here. 

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to separate myself from what is tangible, and potent, and real, as the physical here.

When and as I find myself moving into back chat, as nasty words of protection and defense in and as my mind based on a morality unequal to life, I stop and I breath, and I slow myself down, and I ground myself here, as I see realize and understand the real joy of being, as sentient being, that must physical be,  to enjoy being present here, as self willed, self willingness nature, like water, to accept all things and to take that which is good and does no harm, and to practice this, to restore what is natural, as myself as a physical being, to process the information that is here, as the physical to direct myself in ways that enjoy who and what I am for real.

   

When and as I find myself fearing to face my own morality, as false positive that has proven to have no real sustaining promise, I stop and I breath, and I forgive myself to inform myself equal and one to what is here, as the physical, and to process what is happening on this world, to remember myself to more than what is in my immediate environment, to practice processing information as an act of respect for all things, here.

When and as I find myself reverberating back chat that is nasty and dark I stop and I breath, and I see, realize and understand my own accepted and allowed morality, based on survival, and I stop, I breath, I slow down and ground myself,  and I practice using common sense, as who and what I am capable of as a sentient being, to understand here, and stand as what is practically best for all, speaking as measuring, as stating in words, to build thoughts that move as deeds to and towards a knowingness that stands in lasting joy and happiness to share a process in action, that realizes the value of creating in tandem with who and what I am, the physical, and to within this realize that what is here is me, and what is here as all men, is the means to the end, as it has always been, as many working together to build heaven on earth. 

Taking the word PRIDE apart Day 730

Pride has a pull for me. I want to reject it, never allow myself the gift of this as I fear that the moment I am proud of something I will lose it. This has, been my experience in some ways. Those moments I felt I had reached something, only to have my joy taken from me. And yet, this in itself is a contradiction, because joy can never be taken, it can only be denied. To deny something is like hiding it, when it is a real value as a living value that can remain constant- standing through, standing up, remaining in it course as its very nature!  To deny something is to resist it. The action of resistance such a busy work, such practice can become a burdensome persona that needs constant payment. I am the creator of my own monthly perpetual payment to support the walls of my own mis-judgement- a form of self punishment, a form of being at war with myself. 

This, overall, based on survival. The survival based on not doing the math, problem solving in ways that I give the insight to enable self to see directly. Remember those moments here, where someone explained something and one immediately saw it and then had the secondary reaction of, ‘how could I have missed that!, It is so obvious!”?  What busy work was in the way? What beliefs circulating within one, that blocked what was so easy and actually natural?

In my case, it is some inflammation as a belief, energetically colored, as polarized into a self blame scenario. Somehow, there is an equation that I have allowed to define me, as believing that being proud was followed with a loss, a complete shattering of that with which I became a sense of pride. I probably attached a value of excitement to being proud, lost a sense of the means to accomplishment, and inflated the value, forgetting for a moment, the steps completed  and that this in itself meant that anything could be learned. The espansive nature of being here, could not be lost, it was only that I allowed a belief precedence. 

When reactions came towards me, as I was so self involved, even within a so-called ‘ good’ I reacted to reactions, not slowing down to sense the shame in another for not realizing the means of self discovery and expansion of awareness. I then, took this reaction as a threat to and towards my own development. A twist that could create a veil, so thin yet so encompassing. I can see where it is said the veil is thin is so appropriate. It exists in those kinds of statements that voice “ how could I have missed this!” 

It is being so self involved, so self engrossed, that within the train of my development, I had lost a practice of slowing down and listening to what a reaction of fear was as a natural desire to do being buried in the same as I was being as this was also my starting point. I can also see where this would lead myself to becoming what some might call ‘ intellectual’ as an understanding of expanding awareness was present, yet protected because I did not slow down to realize that the means were not always understood because one simply did not take the time to look! 

And, also, within this pride, as I have lived my life, there is always something new to learn, to understand, to incorporate, were it not so, then life would not move on. Thus, others that had insight I lacked, I began/initially reacted as what I experienced towards myself that was the same,  I allowed myself to become embarrassed- as in ‘ why did I not know that?’ And yet, this non-seeing is ego, which is self allowing a belief that one’s intuition is greater than reality. My intuition being my experience, not all bad, yet not what is here, as it is only the signature of my past. And yet that past is built from interacting with the physical world around me, thus what is paramount is the physical. My intuition in this case, must become flexible, fluid, able to change in every moment, as my real relationship is towards the physical, which is the manifestation of what works- and that must involve constant change with remembering in every moment what is constant. 

Yesterday, I looked at the word ‘ pride’ to deconstruct it so that I could frame this tool, as this word in such a way it could be used to ground me to remember that my intuition is my past, that what is real is the physical and that change is a constant as well as that which is steady in being a constant support.

I also learned yesterday, that the sound ‘ she” or chi, or shhh’ originally meant ‘ not knowing’ or a state of ‘ not knowing’ which is within the sound of the word ‘ shame’ and shaman. I thought this interesting, because I also has a kind of dyslexia around this very same sound when I was younger and learning to spell. When an ‘ s’ appeared in a word, or the sound of ‘ s’, as in ‘ such’, or ‘ch’ or ‘-ish’ I had a hard time with a retention of words using this sound! 

Thus, that the word ‘ shame’ has this sound, means that shame is ‘ not having enough awareness about something ‘ as that tiny sound of the ‘ sh’ is based on ‘ being a state of not knowing’ 

The twist here, is that I allowed a ‘ not knowing’ within a process of default by ignorance, as not looking. Yet, at the same time, this sense of not knowing, could be used to realize that every moment involves change and realizing what is constant, as what works, in relation to the physical. Thus, I can instead of moving in ignorance as ‘ not knowing’ as not looking because I am moving as an inflammation of my intuition- as my past, or I can realize that in every moment I cannot know until I look here, at this reality. Meaning, every moment is a state of ‘ not knowing’ because every moment is different, yet there are things as the physical, that are stable and constant, and can be referenced as this is what is real around me, whereas my intuition is based on my experience- a secondary entity.

My shame as an unknowingness of what is real, having allowed an idea about myself to be larger than life, as my intuition, can transform into realizing that unknowingness is actually cool, because it means every moment as the physical, reveals the way forward. I suppose, from my perspective at this point, it is to say, to move forward means to move as ‘ unknowing’ without a color of shame. Somehow, that is within the word ‘ pride’ for me, towards a redefinition of the word ‘ pride’.

The word ‘ pride’ as the word ‘ ride’ within it,  can be to ride the unknowing, no longer fearing the unknown and trusting what I as a human being can do, which is to assess what is here, and come up with solutions to the unexpected. And to realize, that being a living assessment of what is here, and using my experience, means not fearing the unknowingness that is accepting the no-thing that is every-thing. Another way to say this is to realize that I am the means of change- even my neurons can change and regrow. Thus, I can redefine pride within directing myself to ride the pi of life, as what is change and yet what is constant, facing each moment from a point of ‘ unknowingness’ as being the gift of not defining myself ONLY by my intuition, which is my past experience.

When I sense pride, colored with protection and defense, as movements of self validation, I can stop and breath, slow down, and forgive the past, to stand in readiness to accept all things and take that which is good to live what allows an understanding as ‘ that is so obvious, why did I not see this’ to bring out a unknowingness built of resistance into an acceptance of ‘ unknowingness’ as a means to see more directly this reality.  This practically applied would be myself , within myself, standing in accepting all things, an acceptance of redoing in every moment, from a starting point of being a state of ‘ unknowingness’ as respect in the moment of all things here, as I cannot know until I look, and every moment must be to always look without a value judgement about who and what I am. This is like being a part of the ‘ pride’ of the lye-on life, meaning to accept life, as a physical form, and to ‘ lie down ‘ on the very fabric of what is here, as the physical. Thus, I can be ‘ proud’ of myself as life. I can join the pride of lions and move into a living practice of and as, in every moment that kind of seeing that is inherent in the reaction “ why did I not see that!”

A mis-use of pride- something to sort out! Day 729

One thing I notice within myself, in terms of processing my own storied information, biased and based on not having enough information, and/or not listening and looking at the practical, as myself as a living being that is physical, is how much I resisted problem solving. Meaning, the lack of looking and listening, as a consequence by default of justifying not having taken the time to sort things out, as to really know the ‘ score’ of practical reality. This in itself is like an entity of self pity within- a thing that can accumulate in the back of a person.

I have a memory, of myself, walking down a New York city street, as a teenager, and wondering what was in the back’s of people. At this time in my life, I was beginning to see the realities of this world, especially from being exposed to the modeling industry as I had sisters involved in this industry. I was watching my peers move towards their ideas of entering this world too. I could cite many examples; seeing my friends moving from one group to another, changing their dress codes etc. all to fit into an idea of what it meant to ‘ grow up’ and leave something that was unique within them behind. Such a change is stark when it involves moving into playing the modeling game.

Another area was music. I would perform on the street for a teenage discretionary income. It was much more lucrative then working a minimum wage job. One winter, I worked at the huge Macy’s department store on 34th street. I encountered fathers bringing in their children, asking them to put on one of the coats and to then walk out. The child crying when the coat was taken, the father inflated and little, conflicted in getting caught, not getting his daughter the coat, and she being a witness to this.  I encountered the boss, verbally reprimanding me when her boyfriend would come in at the end of the shift and spend all his time talking to the teenage girl- the new and younger woman on the floor ( which was me). In this I was trapped, there was no where to go. I even realized that I was moved at the whim of the boss, to be placed in the most demanding situations. When it was slow, I was on the floor, cleaning up the children’s cloths on the down time, when it was busy, I was on the register. I suppose I would do the same thing, were I the boss, because it allows the boss to watch over the operations of the whole- yet at the time, I thought I was being punished! lol

In terms of street performing, it had its dangers, yet they were manageable, it was more a taboo, seemingly too loose and independent for my friends as we grew older. That minimum wage job, an entry level job, was more safe. Even on a bad day on the street, for a couple of hours, the wages were better than two hours in a store.

I remember one time, taking some of my mother’s paintings to a street fair. I sold two of them. Two out of three is not bad. It was a risk. I remember feeling like I was doing something under the societal rules, yet could not see NOT doing it at the same time.

Two things are coming up within me in relation to these memories coming up. One is how much my own limitations, in terms of what structures I should move  as within my society to get things done, and how limiting such ideas about such things are, based on real experience. That thing, in the backs of the people that I sensed in the midst of other activities in my life, during childhood, as in a sense, myself seeing what was happening around me, as limited ideologies of should’s and should not’s compounding as a moral imagery within people, walking as personifications of such, creating firewalls of belief within them. A heavyness that lacks movement and settles within, separating awareness from real living movement, as those practical things one can do that are always here. It is only belief and a fear of things that limits.

In so many ways, people really do want to help other people. People also can become intensely jealous of others. I define jealousy as feeling lousy, because that person, for example, is performing out there on the street and they ( the jealous) are not. It is a kind of reflective exposure to one’s own lack. Some rejoice and enjoy, others draw back in shame. The resisting states of being, a fear of facing reality, the practical, the simple steps necessary to get things done. 

At the moment, I have a friend I met as an adult, with whom I had a ‘ falling out’ come back into my life. They are interested in something I am doing. They have run a large business and done extremely well, affording them freedom that most of us only wish for. They have had the best education many only dream of. Within all of this, I am meeting intense reactions within what I am doing,  that they have become interested in. There are times, I just watch, slow down and listen to a tirade- of which I feel I am not allowed to possess. Time frames in regard to such reactions, I have learned do not exist. My moments though small, are huge, yet within a math, this would be the outcome. The only math is their math- their belief system of what is proper. Some of it worth assessing, carefully, to clear things up. And just as we practice new formulas, to incorporate them to the point of using them without thinking about them, applying them directly, in a moment, such things take time. It is much like we have been told; walking through a valley of good’s and bad’s, biases created from learning things in a context away from practical realty- that place/space where we live and see and interact  directly, employing all of our senses- this being a more natural and fast way to learn. Memorizing things in separation from here, is slow, and a means of control. When we can start to realize this, we can change this world in probably less than a decade. That is how well we as human beings can absorb information, this inFORM being the physical reality around us.

I was told at some point to use my past, and I have not done this as much as I could. Using my past, has a point of shame for me, because I have learned that pride is a false promise. It was at a point where I had enough experience to realize that pride in itself, was a false promise ( forgetting that the means to the end is the joy). This point a moment where I made the choice to not take something as a point of gain, in terms of being more than another, as defining myself as that, I chose to forgo the bling of a trophy of more, and instead realize that the magic was in the doing, in living the means, where the goal was important as more a completion of developing understanding.  As a dveelopment of understanding sustained and self emwpoered one’s focus and thus, capacity here. That understanding one’s greatest asset- the gift that keeps on giving, and therefor benefitting everyone. 

Now that I am older, or have spent a greater number of years as a physical beingness on a physical planet. I notice how so many of my friends, and people near the same age as myself, are losing spatial skills to greater and greater degrees. This is that thing in the back, taking over. This is that limiting set of beliefs, informing the machine. This is those beliefs of ‘ more’ that limit practical actions. This is the mind con-sciousness within all of us, as an abdication of reality. one can sense this, in the loss of spatial ability. This is a loss of focus to what is real, the physical. It is a self that cannot move through the  eye-of-the-needle.  This is self in separation from self, and instead a construct of ideas, beliefs and opinions, an inner math of bias, moving as waves of energy through one, so consuming, one forgets to breath. It is visible. If a high school student can sense this, it is visible, it is knowable, and with refocus, it can be deconstructed and changed.  THis is what it means to ebcome a master of self. No one can do this for self, but self.

I notice this in my friend. They are losing skills they had. And yet, they understand on some level that something is out of whack.

What I notice about myself, is a fear of facing a limited morality, of doing the math, despite having practiced this, and moving with greater ease in relation to calling things out by name, by measure, and standing within that. It remains with a color of losing something, even though within focusing in reality, as the practical, and understanding what a more perfect practice builds, as a more direct seeing that has a quality of something powerful and eternal, I still feel that I am cycling within something. 

At the moment, the answer that I have for myself, is that building community is spreading awareness, and that practical tools to balance out that heavy thing in the backs of men, are here. If this were easy, and I looked for quick fixes, I would, in essence, never learn to play this instrument of life, that is me here. The means is the end. To face the storm, alone, means to do the math, to leave this earth, without leaving, as in, to stand within equality and oneness with what is best for all.  That is priceless, and it is a joy too, within the present system, give thanks in directing one’s labor to and towards what enables one to become clear within, to no longer fear ‘ doing things on-the-streets/ within-the-river-banks’ of life, called earth. The momentum has to be built and lived, moving the storms and rip-currents of belief into seeing, realizing and understanding that the physical is the means to the end as life, and that the value is being here, creating. I can, take the inflammation of bias, and ground it into the physical text of real living, where what is natural, as spatial skills, are grounded in reality, never to be lost and instead to improve with the number of years one has on this earth. A master of something showed me how great the gentle is and does, as it is this part of self, that, like water, can sense the smallest of things. Those smallest-of-things are the means to ensure that there is no accumulation of heavyness in the backs of men. 

Remaining grounded even with the politician of the mind Day 728

The ending point is the the staring point.

The power within staying the course.

I had a confrontation with a group I help run. I had explained to another person within whom I share management with this group to keep things simple, meaning, one remained within a schedule, or else the doors of special interest would open.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the doors were opened. Within the coming schedule that organized the group, one could pick and choose which day one did the tasks the group shared  whereas before the schedule moved in a sequence where the individual was responsible to change their date if necessary- and the schedule was placed so far in advance that it gave time to order one’s life around one’s date.  Naturally, in creating a schedule of choice,  the unwanted days, which were holidays, were the last slots to be filled. When I opened this up, because some people were too busy to go in and choose a date, the response was that they had had a lot of fun doing that unwanted day. I had then said, that this was the reason the schedule moved as it did, because it eliminated causing those who did not have the time to fill in the blanks ending up with the days that were holidays and distributing these unwanted days through years- so everyone had a turn on a holiday with time to plan well before the dates. Answering to this with a positive spin on the consequence did not change the fact that all that was left were the holidays, which cancelled out the justification. To this there was a reaction, an indirect action. It was as though, calling positivity out by name caused the flood gates of spite to open, and every so-called ‘ mistake I had made in the past in relation to the group was called out. A distraction from the real issue at hand. It also turned out that the person who had changed the format, complained that scheduling was taking too much time, which, in answering to everyone’s need, instead of simply placing a sequence consistently into a schedule, well before hand,  handing change to the individual, would have kept the act simple, which had been explained from the beginning. 

The formula for such complaint is a math. It happens again and again. Nothing to take personally. Usually, there is some statement of fact, about an action, and then some inflammatory language.  Overall, this additional ‘ math’ incident and then defamatory values as judgements attached, that have nothing to do with the issue at hand I have gotten so caught up in that I become the game of seeing only the distraction and forget my starting point. My answer only brought silence, unless I had retaliated, which I did not, because to react to this kind of inflammatory language only feeds the reaction/fire. The real issue was the original point; bringing in other things only caused a bigger pool of dissonance. It is how walls are built around an issue that is resisted.

Last night, I was talking with an old ‘ friend.” I opened something up that caused a reaction that basically took up the rest of the evening.  I realized that the real issue was money, in this second situation, as this was the last point made in relation to the topic discussed. Yet, when this reaction, this tirade came up, I became quiet, because once started, it had to release itself, as any interjection would only cause more chaos. I wanted to walk away, and had thoughts that this was impossible; why did I make any attempts at all! I should have known - type of back chat coming in. I stopped.

I simply listened, checking myself for reactions, those small resistances, and desires to push back coming from myself; I watched for my own biases wanting to hold onto ideas and beleifs and opinions as what information was coming into the space I was within. I also noticed, at one point how tense was the body of the person with whom I was in communication. It was a rigid, unmoving, un-breathing stance. I did at that point have the werewithall, to realize that what would be important at that point was to move beyond that tense state ( and even had the thought that I created this, which cannot be, as what we accept we, as individuals, are responsible for!).  This stance was so ‘ stuck’ that I stood and listened, letting the fires burn out. It is like standing back and not adding any more fuel to the fire of reaction- this being a set of beliefs being expressed.  It was a lot of ‘ math’ to sort through, and yet, it can be done, as this is what I am as life, here. This is the capacity of life, to create, to build and rebuild. I could look at this as playing with building blocks, rearranging them, sorting them. It is only inflamed values, as belief, that pull into more fire storms of emotion and feeling- this being away from what can withstand time, remain constant, and sound a ‘ stilling of the waters’ , a slowing down, to assess and move into greater understanding of creation as the nature of life. 

When things calmed down, what I noticed is that the interest in what I had brought up remained in this person. It was as though all the reasoning that lead to me once again being involved with this person came forward, and an acknowledgement of what was brought up that caused the reaction, was again said to be something that must be effective. It is like my friend senses there is something there, but the morality, as beliefs, comes forward in a resistance. This cycle is playing out and the only way forward is to slowly walk through the cycles of a morality/math of resistance and fragments of interest that come back. I would say it is like dealing with a piece of music, which is like a math, that has truths and inflammatory beliefs, that slow down the processing of  potentials sensed.  I lose insight into the whole, as the parts/justifications when I become too narrow a focus on ideas about who and what I am, usually tied to class and culture, instead of remembering a presence to and towards the physical- the real starting point of myself as a human being on earth.

Within myself, though at times listening to a tirade was difficult -as a sense from my past that I could not move through this, it was impossible, it was overwhelming, it was so thick and too difficult to sort through, came up,  -I said no as this was my own limitations that had become fixed and comfortable justifications within myself. I had to breath, remain calm, and listen. It was at this point that a tiny fleck of realizing that I could ‘ do the math’ came through, and like words on a page, the forms became more liquid, as though I was sorting the numbers. This had a moment, of remembering that those lenses, as the words, were a tool to ground an effective presence, here: a present to myself. That one moment of movement, of form, opened a door to seeing that not only could this moment remain fixed as what it was, it could also, be aligned in ways that removed the inflammations and settled into more presence and greater awareness of movement in space and time. 

Within all this seeming chaos, were points of change. It was like a quantum form that had a flicker of insight that could move into a greater dimension of awareness- yet there were problems to solve. lol, it is like facing a formula embedded in the physical, the persona of the numbers as a measure of values laying the equation on the table. It is amazing in so many ways, as it is as though I step out of my head, yet remain there as well, and see the movement around me. It is a movement that is invisible, yet moves like a wave - that wave can be brought back to self, sorted and grounded. Thus, within this, everything is me, as this is how to bring it back to self. Here, to then do the math, within a starting point of the principle of what is best for all. This also means speaking within the volume of story, playing with words, with a math, to direct myself, and thereby the very presence involved as a formation that moves with greater   resolve into a presence equal and one to life, to creation.

What joy there is in this!