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Jayem's Blog

JayemDawn

 

The first traces of light dance faintly against my eyelids, and this body is stirred to waking. Where does the light end, and the eyelids begin? Where is this point of communion, this marriage that births the child of waking? Have you ever tried to find it?

I am still. I rest in that place just prior to the tendency to ignite the mind in thoughts. Those little abstract mini-creations bubbling through the neuronal pathways of the physical brain that literally create a whole world immediately experienced, but affecting a buffer between pure awareness and this light making love with my eyelids, stirring the birth of this child I call 'waking up'; and is this not what we define as becoming conscious of my "self"? And is not this self exactly the constellation of thoughts by which I define my "self" and thus become (re) oriented in space-time? Do you see?

The "self" does not become aware of where it is in space, it defines what is in both of two critical ways: time and meaning. This constellation of thoughts whirling about in the brain as light impulses "reconstruct" our sense of self, and thus construct the limits of what we know: behold the arising of the 'world'!

We do not see that even this constellation rests on a foundation of prior constellations, resting on a foundation of prior constellations, resting on a foundation of prior constellations, each more subtle and prior level even more 'engrained'; that is, energy impulses 'grooved' and more or less stable, like the pillars of a building. Inside the building, we may shuffle the furniture about endlessly, and easily (we call it a new experience, and we are hungry for it when attention flows outward into the 'world'), but deep within and under the building, the pillars become few and very substantial. If they were to shift, the whole building would shift. If they collapsed, the whole thing falls down.

The ego fears this, because the ego is the building we have constructed. That familiar thing that reconstructs itself every morning, giving that felt sense of 'me'. The soul is not the ego, nor even the body-mind, yet it pervades these, and is really the life of them, yet gets enmeshed with them. It is more subtle, a much finer 'substance' (it really isn't physical at all, but in a physical world - including the lower mind - you must speak the language that can have some hope of being understood). Like the soft note of the oboe in an orchestra, it is usually drowned out by the horns and violins and drums. And the soul yearns to break through, and free of, the constant re-construction of 'me'.

The soul knows and feels Communion. At its level of being, it delights in the fact that the light and the eyelids don't really "end" at all, but merge and emerge in Wholeness, or Oneness. They are like two ends of a straw. Just try to have one without the other! For, you see, soul is really Soul: that field of awareness that actually pervades all of Nature (and beyond, high and low). 'The earth is my body, and all that arises within it, I AM.' That statement will seem astounding to the ego. It is self-evident when the seat of Identity has broken through to the first level of Soul. It can hardly be called 'one's own personal and private soul', can it?

And if that is astounding, just wait to you realize that Soul enfolds domains far above and far below Nature, too! It becomes only a thin strand of possible domains, like domains within domains within domains; pearls on a string within pearls on a string, within pearls on a string... This is why it is futile and painful to take anything personally. There is no such thing, and thus nothing that can possess anything. Where there is really no substantial 'me', there can be hardly a reason to justify the grasping of the ego, shouting 'mine'! This is especially true about the one thing the ego truly thinks its has: its own life. But, in truth, there is no self that has a life. To realize this is to fly beyond the realm of suffering, even though life continues!

Now this light grows in the eastern sky, turning cloud edges to gold and pink. Just how does one color become another? Does anyone really know? We could come up with some explanations: the gods are weaving magic in the sky. Molecules appearing as moisture build up are being struck at progressive angles, and this changes the way the eye and brain formulate images and colors. Magical thinking, scientific thinking. Thinking, period.

And, as I mentioned, thoughts construct a new world of experience.
Would you like your coffee with milk? Milk and sugar? Or just black?
Behold, choose! And enter a new world!

I rest, here, just before the habitual tendency to enter the doorway marked "thoughts that will (re) construct my most familiar world, orienting a 'me' in space, and defined by my thoughts about time (especially the time span of this particular body) and the meaning I have ascribed to its events." Especially the meaning I have given the really personal events that groove my deepest sense of a 'me'.

Yet even that arises in the larger field of the Soul, that knows there is no such thing as a personal person. At rest, just now. Attention moves toward silence, not reconstruction theory. Mount Agung emerges as darkness gives way to this light that marries my now-opened eyes, birthing something that has never been before this moment: a body-mind sitting in a chair being penetrated by a mountain at just this angle, this moment, this unique set of all-encompassing conditions far too vast to comprehend.

But more. As I rest, I notice the body-mind is being pervaded by the mountain. At a subtler level than reconstruction, there is no 'me' looking at the mountain. I can feel it. A very real energy pervading me, like "coming on" to a medication or 'non-prescription drug', or like those moments of really great sex, or falling in love (or is it, opening in love?).

If I allow a soft breath, yowza! It circulates quickly. I can witness it literally pouring into every cell. There! Just made it into the outer edge of the fingernail of my little finger on my left hand. Delicious, this! Blissful, this! The breath seems to allow the mountain to titillate every cell, penetrating more deeply. I am lover being penetrated by the beloved mountain.

Now, the mountain reveals itself to me. I am 'inside' it. I see beneath its surface to its core, like traveling within it. Until there is no trace of a 'me' looking at the mountain. There is only the Soul of the mountain arising. The Soul of all manifest things, arising, just so. Sacred Into-Me-See.

And so a simple principle of Life reveals itself. When I rest just prior to the need to reconstruct my world, I may be penetrated. When I am, I know the thing intimately. It is a knowledge that operates in a way quite different to the way 'knowledge' operates inside the tiny (re)constructed world of 'me'. That is always a knowledge 'about', but it is not the thing in itself, not a knowledge by being the thing known.

If you have ever had a very-first-time-experience, like of chocolate or sex or a rock-n-roll concert, you know perfectly well what I mean, don't you? There is knowing that transcends all knowing about. That is why there's nothing quite like the first time! And why there is no sense trying to get it back! Lucky for us, if we could only get it:

Every moment is the first time, always.
Stop living in the constant (re) construction of 'me', like the pillars and floors of a familiar house in which you know where every room is, and what is inside them already, so that you merely keep repeating entering and leaving, leaving and entering, ad nauseum, like a record stuck in the same old groove.
You know, the thing you always insist is 'my life'.

It is merely a (re)construction act you do habitually every morning when the first touch of light of what could be a whole new day caresses your eyelids, and you leap - not from the bed - but from this prior Soul into the world of 'me'! That very little, spellbinding world in which knowledge "about" things is taken to be the same as knowledge "of" things.

Like this knowing, and being known by, Mount Agung. This merging dance of light, of being, arising just now. I have learned that by resting prior to the habit of Reconstruction, perhaps with a friend, with a mountain, with a paper cup, or with someone wanting to heal and awaken, and even with things that are not present objectively, this deeper Knowing may occur effortlessly.

Knowledge by Being is like making love with... Infinity.

Yes, I still look at things. Yes, the reconstruction arises, but it has no glue, no spell-binding power! In fact, manifest existence, including this morning sunrise, and the mountain, and you, are felt to be arising within a circle of awareness whose center is everywhere, and circumference nowhere! If that confounds you, don't worry. Just want true wakefulness, and it will come to pass. For what truly IS, just loves to undermine the pillars of the house of 'me', collapsing the limits of our construction so that what IS can show itself off!

There is a word we use to describe this thing that IS, beyond - yet pervading - our tiny constructed world of 'me'. And the word is, 'God'.

Is it a benevolent personal old man in a grey beard? Yes! If there is any mind aware of God in that way, then Yes!

Is it a complex of energetic patterns defined as E=MC squared? Yes! If there is any mind aware of God in that way, then Yes!

Is it a stern taskmaster? A stream of Grace? Is it non-existent? Yes! Yes! Yes!

And that is what makes God, God, isn't it? Everywhere you look, there it IS, for it is the very power that allows all looking, all seeing, and is yet forever hidden from final view. Until you finally turn around in the very seat of the soul, and let the gaze of awareness penetrate to the real Soul of the perceiver itself. "Peek a boo! I see You!", God shouts, and reveals itself to be the power by which all things are seen, just as you damn well choose to see them. As a mountain 'over there', or a mountain 'arising here'. The big thing 'over there' is much, much bigger when it is allowed to 'arise here', inside the perceiver!

Now, it is palpable for me. So self-evident. There has been no separate self at all! The emperor has no clothes because there is no emperor! The entire universe, no, the entire Kosmos arises within what was always Me, squeezed to the unseen edges of awareness when once I fell under the spell, the spell of the habit of Reconstruction Theory.

I saw, really saw into and through, how I did that with every judgment, every unforgiveness, every fusion of identifying my "self" with the choice to stamp things with 'me, myself, and especially, Mine'! Consider this for yourself, and learn to cease grasping, owning, craving, needing, and God will emerge in the Gap of your resting, resting into each Moment, in which only the New is arising. Yet the silence in which it is occurring is undisturbed.

Give up the habit of reconstructing everything with the spell of Me-Myself-and Mine. Just stop, that is all. Just rest in the space prior to that habit. Let God emerge. I have been reduced to three ways to describe God, this palpable, self-evident Isness :

As the field of energy eternally dancing as all temporarily arising things, God is the Ever Shimmering One. As the intimate source from which I and all things arise, I am aware of a feeling-quality that can only be Love, and so God is the Infinite Beloved.

And in the humbling recognition that there is no finality I can ever achieve in knowing or being known by That One, I must cease all arrogance and rest in the utter unknowability of God. And thus God is "Hashem", a Jewish word that means:

beyond name and form

Precisely in these three qualities, I am at rest in the Home of my Creator. Abiding thus, only one thing can arise: surrender in devotion, a tear of gratitude, and a subtle movement constantly in my heart compelling this temporary swirling of molecules we call a body-mind, to be used to help others out of their Reconstruction habit, to taste the golden wine, this nectar sweet above honey!

The literal, immediate, palpable taste of God. And now the sunlight is warm on the skin, for the first time. A thought arises and its pleasurable currents begin to mobilize these molecules to leave this desk and come to the edge of the pool next to my cottage. There I will remove this sarong, and let the warming sunlight kiss this body. Then, step into velvety waters.

For the first time. For all things are being made New every Moment. Only this can be the meaning of Presence in the Eternal Now. It is not a concept, theory, or belief. It is Reality, waiting on your welcome. If you are willing to take up that PathWay that dissolves the habit of identifying with Reconstruction Habits! The only glue holding the habit in place is a fear, or recoil against the Real Thing Actually Occurring: God. Here, and Now. Beyond illusion. Palpable. Infinite. Bliss-full.

You have squeezed yourself into a tiny box of Me-Myself-and Mine. Rest prior to this habit, and become the Freedom you already are. Give up the ghost, and die into this life divine.

Come and abide in Me. Come and drink of this Presence that has made its Home where once these molecules were also recoiled in fear through the habit of constant Reconstruction Theory. Be quickened in My Presence, dissolving in Grace the glue of Me-Myself-and Mine, and be exploded into radical freedom.

Here there is only astounded Wonder, simple Innocence, and extraordinary Infinitude, Joy, and the final Peace when nothing is obstructed or recoiled from. There is only the recognition that the only thing occurring, ever, is God Praying Love in, through, as, and for all things. Including you.

Abide in Me, and be Free.
Would you like your coffee with milk? Milk and sugar? Or just black?

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