On another lyrical tide of a prose

 Considering how my days have been spent 'ere, in a moment in time that spans lifetimes from a moment when in want of writing a thought or two uncaptured by medium no other but words whose folds contained spaces experiences could snuggle in if only I could spend enough time getting those words to contain those experiences which volumes of words couldnt well enough but a word in just the right lilt and in sequence tasted and chosen by the aftertaste left behind that contains a hue from the droplet that trickled into my experiential ocean from wheresoever time couldnt trace the origins unless cared enough..somewhere between then and now, time again came in today to remind me of that which I yearned (?) and reached out for, reminding me once again of the line where the sky meets the sea that I thought I had camped out in and made a life in, but that line is also something to be reached out for, else there is not that going to reach for, like everybody else does, as a goal-line that holds onto that spot where there is freedom enough to buoy and surf the tide on and be free enough to be happily unbound to whip a magic out of nothing and holler another song to the wind for the surf to catch and sing back!

I'm imperfectly perfect and perfectly imperfect but I am okay being work-in-progress

 

My world is just fine what I have in my immediate vicinity, bothering about what food I'd like to eat, how my house interiors would be preferred, what artwork I'd like to explore or catch up on that book I have wanted to read since some time until I come to the thought that 'I am joyful,' like the breath gone out far enough to reach a shore and returned back to say 'I am joyful' in reflective biofeedback and then the 'activities' I have been planning for seems enough to make me feel guilty that there are so many people out there who dont have what I have, dont have the experiences I have been fortunate enough to have that I am expected to share about and care enough as to the value of them and what they could bring as quality of life enhancers and thats where my 'joy' ends and care begin. It is like the joy is a splash of water on the rocks and I could be vapory and mist-cool but thats as good as being on a vacation in the middle of everywhere to cool the fire off within and then back on the crusty crumbly fiery spaces of inflammation that my physiology goes through in the kind of domestic neighborhood with its 'legalized violence' practices that thinks astral projection into other people's bodies is hatha yoga and the consequent physiological toxins I need to detraumatize by my own invention of yoga {Nirbeeja Yoga} to maintain being humane, joyful as well as I can be in the convenient considerations afforded by 'civil' humans around hacking into wifi if they can get away with it while being 'neighbour'ly with 'swalpa adjust maadi' attitudes as long as they are at the receiving end of the 'consideration.' I like it best once I get to the other side of the fieriness - where it is just pure unadultrated love - but the push and pull from the environments has me go out again in putting out fires in the different levels of my tissuebodyhouse. My body-based LifePartner that I call History does not know Nirbeeja Yoga, more Hatha Yoga et al and music and a whole lot of things and nonviolent as well as males can be expected to be with living in a society that glorifies the Divine Feminine as 'Mother' but has to deal with #BetiBachaoBetiPadhao concerns while Divine Masculine is not quite 'Father' in line with the 'Mother' perspective and are expected to perform and put food on the table as soon as they are of earning age, which better be sooner than later or something or at least are constantly evaluated in terms of 'performance' capability in taking care of the family. Such conditioned hardwired expectation, they cannot even voice out against the societal bias on 'what a man needs to deal with in being a male' behind a tight-lipped 'masculine guild' or something that no females are allowed entry into in coping with the feminine fire that society won't call as 'abuse' because the society would turn against the 'default abusers of the society' - males - with hardly anybody properly examining the details carefully enough as to why males and females live in their own personal hell. Rant..rant..I know. That's why I call this blogspace, Spaces. Good to clean my palate and desoil my claws so I can be nonviolent; that is needed for my food to taste good enough as they deserve to be and to have my hands be clean from those moments I do not do Nirbeeja Yoga while R&Ding on what is missing because of which a Founder of such beautiful method of yoga is not having as much fun as the legally violenced sanatana dharma professing happy ordinary people who do not have manvanthara considerations and moving history for the better 'grandiosity' but I do {and have registered my commencement in a believe-it-or-not mythological proportions and having ordinary BayBe concerns indulging in a just-human drama triad where I am not necessarily harming anybody by not practicing Nirbeeja Yoga, but not healing the fabric of time and space as well as I could if I am 24/7...I am learning to be okay with having fun and ranting and raving especially when everybody either seems to expect me to be perfect or completely foolish so they have a scandal or 'NIGYSOB' 'I got you not being nonviolent' moment. I am developing this Course of human betterment, like my bread-and-butter none-of-anybody-else-business business to have people care enough about life nonviolently, but I dont have to kill myself pedestalled into who or how I need to be en route. And I do Nirbeeja Yoga to put myself together when I have been so inflamed by ambient domestic conditions from uncared for histories/transgenerational trauma that I need to go into intensive therapeutic Nirbeeja Yoga so I dont end up getting an autoimmune disease between the gift/talent I have developed over years within and the yet-to-be-caring-enough external world that is part of my History that I need to work with in making better so our marriage makes the family between our masculine and feminine dynasties wholesomizingly healthier, wealthier, wiser.

Life, until I hit the cookie crumbly fiery inflammation seems horizontal, one amongst the crowds, fairly decent, artistically satisfying experience that I could live as such for about 20 minutes and then I am back into sanitizing the inflammatories so I dont get 'corona'fied or have my tissues facing sunburn of a sun-less kind. Any wonder I am making an online Course of having Noninflammatory Presence using Nothing in 6 months?

Fauna in me home!

Posting a draft saved up from a few years back, when I was being taught by fishes on how to be human.

My second non-human Earthmate made an unplanned entry into my life. (The first being a tiny puppy named Mickey and I am not over its abrupt loss some 20 years later). It is actually 2 of the water-exploring finned members that I havent really figured out the name of. The aquarium shop owner called it Tiger fish but Google search does not reveal any Tiger fish that looks like this one. I bought two and then not knowing how much feed is appropirate for 2 fishes (this being my first ever take-of-it-by-myself experience with no overseer around), and I thought these fishes ate a lot (because I tend to eat a lot, so why should I think other beings wont eat well enough?!) I put enough for 2 I thought only to find the tank quite cloudy the next morning. I thought they would clean it all up by evening only to find one of them floating on the surface and wont wake up. I buried it (as a kid, we used to bury ants and lizards that we found dead in the backyard, we did feel quite a lot sad for them Earthlings). I had not thought I would need to do so for one I bought at a shop and died after a feed. I should be feeling terrible right now, but I do and dont too. This one in the tank was quite a spirited one, but is kind of lonely by itself. It came from a swarm of fishes in the shop, you see, and I bought 2 so they are company for each other while I am away from home in office. This one is now pecking at the food thinking its own thoughts, I imagine. It is a beautiful water-dweller, this fish. I dont dare call it a name.

In-between spaces

It's because of these in-between cities between spaces where people don't bother to pay attention to coz they are busy living within the narrow bandwidth of their visual acuity or field of vision with peripheral vision reduced to a blur or nonexistent for all practical matters except in an accident or so and then it is just an oh that's so and then maybe a vision correction that there are walls in a house. Just like walls within the spaces in their mind or the mind-house or let's say walls in their hearts. Rumi says 'your job is not to find love but to discover all the walls you have built against it.' Makes sense. Peripheral vision. Correcting peripheral vision through noninvasive selfdev practices is the way to also bring down those walls that keep people fighting and behaving non-EarthFamily like, like adolescents!

It helps to word-rant it. I then can sleep that I put the concern out there in the world for someone to pay attention to while I figure out the best way to have my Work be understood/communicated and benefitted from. Ergonomic concerns.

A leap of faith

Roads meander through known and unknown grounds. Conjectures keep me watchful. Truths on my path. There are spaces in between that, as always, are filled with several levels of I-dont-know well enough but know that prudent courage is more important than ignorant/arrogant waiting. Yep, there are these spaces too.

'I am the one whose life I live' has no alternative

The fact is it is my life I live. There may be theories about alternative universes or parallel spaces from quantum states and the likes but the fact remains that what happens in this moment in time is after the causal physical fact of what happened in the previous. An alternative universe/space has the effect from what happened previously in that space and may and may not have influence on this depending on how much I include aspects from that alternative space in the present moment by which something becomes possible in this and therefore the next moment has the effect of it. Nevertheless, that alternative space has me, even if as an alter ego or whatsoever, but it is me, not somebody else, even if that me is a theatrical version of me whose affects contribute by refraction within the spectrum that is my-space and gives me range to derive and arrive from. It is moot point to think somebody else could have done better or worse because the fact is I am here in this physical space doing what I am doing as a consequence of laws of physics in this space because of which I factually am doing what I am doing in this lifetime.

Tea-time

A cup of tea. Sometimes a steel tumbler. Sometimes a china with blue prints and a nice saucer -  La Opala. Several flavors to savor for different moods and different occasions. With someone or a group of someones or alone. There is a dialogue that happens between the cup and the drinker, between the tea and the taster - quiet, profound somuchso that volumes may be written on what transpires between the ingredients from their different origins in the liquid that it got brewed in by the hands in its different moods that gave just that amount of tea leaf and just that many grains of sweetness, between the range of tastes as the temperature cools down between the time it got off the stove to the last sip, and the umpteen things that goes on inside the drinker-taster before, while and after drinking. A cup of tea. Sometimes I think the real companion at tea-time is just the tea in the cup and that all other details are over and above that companionship, and oftentimes that is the one least appreciated except as a taste that remains as a reminder of the fact of tea-drinking. It is the little things.