Demons

Literature talks of energies sometimes occupying the human body, the absolution of which requires not rejection or resistance but compassion and acknowledgement of its own strength and presencing its strength for itself. When transliterated, the cliche, 'we have our own demons to deal with,' may not be any different from that of the 'dead souls' or 'ghosts' that are the subject of horror stories. Just like the horror stories usually having tormented souls that seek redemption, the demons in our own psyche need acknowledgement and appeasing, one after another. Question is the frame of mind when one is ready to face the demon in our mind's closet and see it for what it is and be willing to appease its distress.

Un'familiar'izing.

The sands have been sifting for a while now, more in a direction that has me see that it is for me to move and it is just my movement that will have anything work. There is not gonna be anyone proding, nurturing, encouraging. Support will come only if I compromise and dance in some manner to someone else's tune but that world will not have me in it, and it is too high a price to pay for too low a life.

My journey has seemed for sometime now a fight: A fight against conformity, compromise, attachment, enslavery, mindless monotony, stagnation, falling in line with the familiar that has been survived through to rags, persistence of dis-ease. My journey is to health. It is worth fighting for. And Life does find a way.

As i am stirred..

As emotions, simple-yet-complex human interactions, experiences and personal journeys ebb and flow from time to time, certain aspects of the components in varying colors and flavors boil up to the surface revealing parts of me hitherto unworded/undefined as well as aspects of the complexity/simplicity hitherto unseen. Such moments make me wonder about who/what the world and its people are to me and who/what am i to the world.

Yellowing out!

Accident! T-bone'd with a bike! Accident on a vehicle first time ever..and now I can say I have that experience too!

And then a blackout (have blackedout earlier at a much younger age, when I couldnt care less about observing how the experience was except bask in the attention it brought)...and I find it is not really black out but more like yellow out. Everything went yellow for a while before the next thing i could remember as waking up on the floor with a vague recollection of hitting my shoulder, I think, on something, which turned out to be the floor.

And then, there are other things going on by which i can gauge if I am ready to get up and bear moving again or not (obvious to many perhaps but interesting while observing it happening detached from my body as though the body occupies a space a lil different from the one where I as an observer am in).

Left leg swollen and skinned a bit, and then a certain stiffness sets in, as though the body in that part shields itself or perhaps it is just resistance against further onslaught, and the stiffness is much like the numbness that the mind has to shield from an onslaught of whatever that is a lil too much to handle or want to handle.

It is the body's time now, to talk in its own language, and for me to listen for it now demands my attention.

There is only love..

When love glows, it is bliss.
When it flows, it is compassion.
When it blows, it is anger.
When it ferments, it is jealousy.
When it is negative, it is hatred.
When it acts, it is perfection.
When love knows, it is Me!
                           ~ Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Unlearning-Learning-relearning

Habituation. An action -> an experience -> a result, over and over until the experience gets familiar and then is no more an experience but something that has settled down as 'real' - an 'is'- like a fact. Automation in the nervous system. Sudden changes in a habit causes confusion and disorientation at the level of predictibility and confidence/assuredness - an uncomfortable space of 'not knowing,' which is a blessing for it allows for something new to happen and a curse for then 'known' knowledge is insufficient and introduces doubt and fear until some semblance of familiarity ('knowing') gets established, reinforcing predictability and confidence. A new habit.

Life of the human mind..

Dynamics of human interactions. Flavorizing, color-blending, syntaxing and thus semanticizing. Creating interesting scripts; lending interesting definitions to characters. Layering, deepening, mystifying. Fascinating.

moving to not move

Nothing has really changed yet nothing is the same. The spaces are the same yet the spaces are not the same. I have moved i thought only to find i am more now where i started than when i started. Strange but not so strange: I may be running to come home to me. Nothing has changed: nothing has changed.

Transitions..movements..anxieties

Choices. Being current and relevant. Social intelligence. Being true to ones own sense of decorum/propriety/inner integrity and exploring options. I am in a transitory phase (again) of finding a common ground that allows for the latter while retaining the essence of the former, inclusive of the uncertainty if the need for retention is also a means to stay in the comfort zone. Nevertheless, of the several options available, there is still a choice, an act of free will, on how one chooses to live ones life.

To catch the bull by its horns.

A way of being that has a willingness more than fear, an ‘iv had enough’ more than ‘what next,’ energy more than patience, action more than thought, here and now more than ‘consequences.’

The one that got away

The workings of the mind is pretty interesting. When someone seems to be breaking out of the mold, thinking original (?) and questioning the unquestioned beliefs, basically doing things out of the common milieu, much like the Indian crabs there is a clawing to pull that ‘aberrance’ back into the system. And then, when the aberrance continues in spite of the attempts to keep it in the mold, the system expects it to maintain form, expect a perfection of form perhaps more than what the aberration has reckoned, and the system gets angry/aggravated when the aberration does not maintain that expected form. A very interesting love it or hate it, almost endearing but also frustrating trait present in almost every, if not every system. Perhaps it is the ‘surface tension’ of systems at play to maintain its compactness and contributes to its stability in some way. Perhaps it the harmony-chaos cycle at work.

Ventilation

Cynicism thinly wafts through the sometimes chugging, sometimes well-oiled, sometimes indolent workings of the mind with fresh air breezing in through half-open windows and small cracks in the walls of the mind. Stagnant air gently circulates mingled with the fresh air, the cynicism sometimes venting out in words mingled just as quietly with sprouts of premeditated words, realized to have been vented only when the cyncism comes sizzlingly in contact with the ear. The walls of the mind seem to be getting old and more willing to crack further but perhaps need a pressure buildup of fresh nurturing cleansing air passing through it. Air hunger.

Dinner tonight at my place

Lets dine tonight. Lets make it potluck. Please bring your dish of experiences through living, your dreams, your fears, hopes and wishes, anxieties, the things you have seen and felt and thought of people, circumstances and life itself. If you like, you could invite your people too and ask them to bring their dishes along just as I have you. Lets dine together after the hustle of the day, at a time when idle contemplation can find expression along with a reflection on the lessons learned through the day, and rehear the melody that connects us with everything that sometimes fades out of awareness in the hustle of making it through life. Lets dine to rehear that melody and rejuvinate our life systems before sleep does the same to our bodies, and be born again.

Peg

A whisper of a twig is sufficient to hold on to, and the life within, with its support, will find its resources to pull itself up and breathe again.

Listening to the body..allowing for its movement

In this part of my journey, slow almost meditative movements calms, opens space, and has it be easy for the mind and body to come to a kind of truce for the while instead of the almost constant different directions and speeds that both want to go in. If not for this pace, it is much like managing children/people with different temperaments.

Movement

Deal with completion, not incompletion. If considered that anything that moves is possibility and all else is concerns/reactions/effects and more reactions, and they are all valid no matter how bizarre they may seem, then wonder if only dealing with the completion would be all that is required. The shortest distance to cover the gap and most economical.

Freedom to be is when..

The ultimate inaduthenticity is that there is any innate significance to me or to life. It is when the ultimate inauthenticity is accepted and owned that any freedom to be becomes possible.

Growing up

I fought to have a space in which I could choose for myself all through the teen and growing up years and when I do get to choose, I have a problem with that! And now I got to be responsible for making the choices too! This must be further evidence that being in the comfort zone includes everything that is also familiar including the struggles, the discomfort, unhealthy stimulus along with the things that makes one feel comforted and safe. Whoever said being grown up was all fun and wonder why was all that hurry to be grown up!

Labor's child

Had forgotten the warm comforting embrace of music (of a work of art from careful labor), of care taken in minute details, of surrender to create something bigger than oneself and of the solace and strength that of itself is to one and all it touches, moves and inspires. Where there is no longer the artist but a life that are the creator's carefully chosen moments strung together over time and now complete and having a life of its own.

‘There is something fundamentally wrong.’

Wonder if wrong-doing and punishment has been wired into our psyche so much that what is possible can go only up to a certain point after which the ‘what is possible’ sphere needs to involute, consciously/unconsciously/subconsciously creating limits and boundaries and to put an effort at consciously thinking ‘beyond’ those limits.  Part of the difficulty in thinking beyond may be dealing with the wrong/punishment wiring that is so much part of the system. The wiring is so much evident in the language, and a whole lot of words derived from wrong/punishment - negative, backward, fail, bad, beat, etc.etc. It is much like there being the primary relationships (mother and father or people who come to represent their role/authority) and then all other relationships with people and things being a derivative of the primary in some manner. 

World in words

A world lies open to the one listening - a world that lies in the words, sequence of words, and between the words - woven from the fabric of the speaker/writer’s mind. Entropy and analysis and whatever else be kept aside. The uniqueness of the person is getting worded, if only one cares to listen.

Limiting

Sometimes what is possible requires a demonstration for the mind to see beyond or to even be present that there has been a limit thus far.

Histologically, cells are said to lose their totipotency in early infancy and get partially potent and then selectively potent with progression of age or with development of the individual. Perhaps that is not an accident. Perhaps that is a physical manifestation of the experience of the unlimited being 'limited,' a consequence of setting 'boundaries' to what is possible, boundaries set by other similarly 'boundaried' individuals, thereby effectively slowing down 'life' and promoting 'ageing.' Perhaps then it is not an accident that the average lifespan of human beings have come down, a consequence of cumulative 'limiting' and 'boundarying' of what is possible?

"I am"

Excerpt from a forwarded email.

Crabbit Old Woman


Who is really inside?

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a hospital in England, it appeared she had left nothing of value.

The nurse, packing up her possessions, found this poem. The quality so impressed the staff that copies were distributed to all the nurses in the hospital.

This poem then later appeared in the Christmas edition of "Beacon House News," a magazine of the Northern Ireland Mental Health Association. This was the Lady's bequest for posterity.

What do you see nurse, 
What do you see?
What are you thinking, 
When you look at me?
A crabbit old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit
With far away eyes.

Who dribbles her food
And makes no reply;
Then you say in a loud voice,
"I do wish you'd try."
Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe.

Unresisting or not,
Lets you do as you will;
With bathing or feeding,
The long day to fill.
Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse,
You're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am,
As I sit here so still,
As I move at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten ...
With a father and mother,
And brothers and sisters
Who love one another.

A girl of sixteen,
With wings on her feet;
Dreaming that soon,
A lover she'll meet.

A bride soon at twenty ...
My heart gives a leap;
Remembering the vows
That I promised to keep.

At twenty-five,
I have young of my own,
Who need me to build
A secure and happy home.

A woman of thirty,
My young now grow fast,
Bound together with ties
That forever should last.

At forty, my young ones
Have grown up and gone;
But my man is beside me
To see I don't mourn.

At fifty, once more ...
Babies play 'round my knees;
Again we know children,
My loved ones and me.

Dark days are upon me,
My husband is dead ...
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread;
For my young are all rearing,
Young of their own,
And I think of the years
And the love I have known.

I am an old woman now,
Nature is cruel,
‘Tis her jest to make old age
Look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles,
Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass,
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again
My battered heart swells.

I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living
Life over again.

I think of the years ...
All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact
That nothing can last.

So open your eyes nurses,
Open and see ...
Not a "Crabbit Old Woman,"
Look closer ... see "Me."


~ Phyllis McCormack ~

I know

Consciousness. Conscientiousness. One as I understand is being aware and the other is being aware in reference to a principle of inner integrity, an integrity that over time would have me traverse a path that determines if in time I can face myself in the mirror and look into my eyes with dignity for I know and my knowing that I know makes any second opinion secondary. 

Nobody

Anonymity beguiles. Be one in the crowd, invisible. Sense and experience the happenings with people, around them, within them, inside their head and because of that inside the head. Be with the expressions and the experience that gives the expressions. To savor the words uttered. Feel the tone and cadence.  Linger on the fleeting lines on the face as emotions flicker across them. Follow the gaze and picture the image forming in the brain layered, interpreted and juxtaposed by others already available in the memory database from past experiences. Invisibility beguiles hence. A name, a face, an identity, a persona. All needs maintenance and right now they are kinda annoying distractions from the wealth available to explore by being anonymous and invisible and a nobody.

In a league of your own..

"And of course there is nowhere to hide at mile 25 of an Ironman run!" - Anuradha Vaidyanathan

Interesting how she notes when one is in a league of their own, there is nowhere to hide; directly alluding to the human tendency to not view each one as unique and to the tendency for seeking acceptance and belongingness.

Words - limit and liberation

The pull towards the whirlpool of confusion and directionlessness thereof, as in a sense of being lost, is the sometimes limiting need to put things in words. Once distinguished, the apt words opens up pathways and shears through confusions and dilemmas while when undistinguished, words lead to confusion and directionlessness, the latter of which is perhaps the reason for my earlier aversion to words and for thinking of them to be necessary evil.


If so, what determines the readiness to use words that opens pathways vs otherwise? Guess written and thought words have their own pace to discern which is which, just as the person has a pace at which learning when to do what is discerned, and it may perhaps be on a kind of universal developmental scale of learning. And the scale may have an in vs out, expressed vs unexpressed, giving vs receiving, action vs inaction, noise vs silence, distinguishing vs retrospection, etc, parameters to determine who is at what level.

Observations..

Interesting how when a generalization is made, the concern of 'me?' comes up. The tentacle-like concern of 'belongingness and acceptance' that underlies the human condition, that has one depend on and stay attached in the web called 'society' revealing itself in those very unmeditated/unguarded moments. Else, it is the assertion of 'im independent!,'...as if.
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Doesnt stop amazing me how people react to an as-lived experience i share. Concern mixed with an induced thought/thinking mixed with looking-through-the-known-into-unknown curiosity flits across the expressions...and with those 'space' movements, i go through my own set of 'spaces' of 'am i normal' 'is that ok' 'maybe im doing it wrong' 'havent you seen this' 'how come u dint experience this' 'do you really live or just live a rote' 'its ok' 'im having my experience, they theirs' -- from a space disturbing chaos to a kinda equilibrium where things fall back into 'whats so' space. And, i dont tire of experiementing this with another and another. A world of discovery.
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"Be kind more than necessary to whomsoever you meet, for each is fighting their own battle.'
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Duchenne smile practise is going through the whole gammut of 'not Duchenne' phases...or rather the 'not Duchenne'ness is getting identified. That which is missing is making its presence known by its absence, more like it.

Stimulants

Stimulants imperceptibly unless specifically observed catalyzes 'charges,' a sudden surge disturbing achieved balances and lasts until the system rebalances in the presence of the stimulant. The disturbance causing whatever effect that extra free energy and chaos thereof (as in disturbance of established patterns) makes available. Is the 'coping with uncertainty' effect at play whenever such energy chaos is introduced in whichever system, I wonder...and is that why people like to smoke, drink tea/coffee to 'awaken their brain' per se?

Been a looong time since I posted anything here. Been jotting down things off and on though, so putting them all up at once.. random thoughts in a not so orderly sequence.


Great to be a nobody!

Cigarette, alcohol, dope.... means to get away from the noise in the head and traffic of thoughts that the 'busy', activity-prone city invites people to be a part of...in the rush to be somebody?
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dont share, dont speak, dont ask....they must be the cruelest things you could say to a person...a sure slow poison.
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An intuitive repulsion to unwholesomeness, like the Form traits are not complete with the information immediately available. incomplete w.r.t. the Form being sought? perhaps.
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when an inquiry gets underway, everything seems to be a manifestation of the same with an inherent unity in everything, like the vibgyor in white light with light itself being the unifier.
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It may come to be that the eternal student is the one performing at the optimal level, balancing energies just enough to respect the unknown and utilizing what is known for progress, with his/her placement just below the threshhold of arrogance that comes from 'i know' that obliterates any space that allows for 'i dont know.'
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3-Jan-2012
A wondering observation today. Reading the one-straw revolution. The first time i opened the e-book, i went straight to the first chapter after a brief glance at the author's biography per se. Come this time, i read from the first letter in the first page including the publisher, literally everything. Just a note.
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Amusing to think that dad asked 'under which tree have you been sitting?' Dint understand at the time what he meant. it may have been sarcasm but i guess he was referring to my way of speech. Life quite hasnt been the same since i decided to leave my past behind and get into active experiementation, to stand by what i have speculated and determined to be true, even though with an askance for confirmation, perhaps in real life or as the rules by which things operate or in confirmation in others ways of thought in their speech. A kinda devil may care or not, i care attitude. Life has certainly not been the same since when i care.


We say 'we' when it is 'I,' 'I' being taken for granted as always being there in the 'we.'
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Fukuoka talks of the same 'demand and supply' environment in farming as is for our everyday needs per se. We easily mix up want with need so much so that we dont really differentiate the two. Eat when not hungry. Eat just because it is time to eat, so also for sleep. We 'need' tea and coffee, for some others a cigarette, or cellphone or some such thing which we introduced into our lives to facilitate something and in time come to depend upon it, coming to the point of taking it for granted for it being always there. The impact of dependence becomes known only in its absence. Like some relationships. Links and networks in the Form T are not limited to living or nonliving. It is just a Form linked to another Form, and evolved into a network.
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5-Jan-2012
Everyone is a visual representation of some aspect of me, either known or yet to be unknown at some point in time.

Feel like im getting BIG, unshrinking and unfolding with what is getting discerned in a speculative inquiry. so little do i know and yet the little that i see is amazing enough. Feels like at some level im fragmenting, like the bark of a tree fissuring out to allow space for whatever is expanding within. Does it leave stretch marks? Notable, that with the fragmenting, sponging is also happening. Not like tentacles but definitely the absorbtion capacity for information by nameless senses seem increased, like charcoal perhaps that absorbs CO2 faster with increased surface area. Strange but very interesting feeling this.

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6-Jan-2012

Volcanoing of values from the very depths of undifferentiated understanding, making their presence known from amongst the noisy confusion of information bombarding the senses and unthinkingly, undistinguished stored in memory in whatever form that the brain could understand. The cycle of disorder and order is now more evident. Renaissance of culture and thinking. Restructuring, fragmenting of the 'known' making way for exploring the unknown from experiencing that the known does not work anymore. Renaissance speeding up.

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Vocalizing distorting perceptions. Restraint until the most apt word is identified taking a long time to communicate...but communicates most aptly the intention of speaking. perhaps patience with the learning process and perseverence of inquiry would in time speed up the identification of apt words and perhaps also distinguish the very words that another can understand regardless of the listeners background and level of exposure.

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Presencing what is missing invites thinking. Answers close the inquiry.

...............this post has assorted thought lines, assorted spaces through which I have moved, but somehow when in a pensive mood I re-read a few of them, other thoughts mushroom as I revisit some of these random ones. A case of re-triggered memory continuing from where it left off perhaps. Makes saving up those jotted speculations and posting here at convenience worth it.