Golden Mountain.

This morning before dawn, we climbed The Golden Mountain.
Starting off in pitch darkness, shapes emerging gradually from the shadows. Nature emerging from the blackness of nothing. Why is it that you can never see things emerging? You just suddenly notice that they have arrived, are there, in vision, seen, sensed, perceived. The rays of consciousness illuminate. The rays of sunlight let you see. The dense forest around you through which you could only previously sense with your nose. Sensing the dense. Foliage green, volcanic earth, a different kind of botany. Fragile well formed, hardy, shiny, dry, crisp. something somethings else too. Other things and things and things. More things forever, and forever there will be things. 

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(Blackness nothing becomes daylight something, slowly. Mountain is approached. Golden peak. In awe.)
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Questions came to mind.
Why do we climb mountains? What are your mountains? What questions are you asking of the world? How did you get here? 

What brought you here? What are you doing here?
Do you have the desire to ascend? What is the goal of your ascent? What (or where) is at the top?

To see things from a higher perspective. To gain clarity. To achieve something you can measure in physical terms for once. To approach a dense being. How do you approach The Mountain? Simply observe its greatness? Attack it with vigour and determination? Humbly and slowly ascend in silence and solitude? Introducing yourself to ridges and scrapings of earth, rock formations, hardy shrubs and crumbly ice covered grit.

To see as a mountain sees.

 Feel as a mountain feels. 

To be mountainesque. 

A Mountainess.

To leave the 'ego' behind. The little life down there with all its push and pulls. To quietly ascend, breathing in mountain air. The nature stimulating many divine thoughts. To notice the world below has a hazy blue aura with soft pink edges. To see the ocean look like a small lake. That vast eternal ocean, reduced in scale, to a speckle on the hens back. To see the rays of morning sun bathe the earth in warm love. To see the event taking placing in your heart also. A dawning. A respect. A Thank You. Always a Thank You. 

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(Around and about the energy circles up, clarity is formed as if evaporated steam off heated water.)
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Fall in love with words again.
Respect their dripping content. Flush the system with golden nectar. Divine words flow. I invite you. They ask for space around them. 

So it is Space they shall receive.

There shall be plenty of space for a silent mind.

Language and adornment. Adorned in the first light.

To simply watch the morning arrive.

No thoughts. No thinking. No judgments. Not even stimulating words of reverence.

Just sitting and watching.

To watch those pink rays waft down, ascending down as if drawn, warming the cool night soil. Through what magical law allows the light to trickle down? Those first morning rays have a special glimmer to them. To receive those first rays on the skin, sinking into your pores, breathing them in. Ignighting the conscious awareness within. Peace and the space of love expand.  Seeing is being, drawing towards you the qualities of the perceived consciousness. To notice it you have to know it. To know it you have to be it.

Butoh dancer Kazuo Ohno once said, "for the human being, to see amounts to the same thing as to eat". Perfect sentence. 

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(nothing you can say echoes the vastness of an empty mind. Its non-walls are the opposite of experiential. The exhibition space is now ready and clean to receive its next show.)
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Knowing is being incarnate. The act of knowing is when the words and the writer become one.

The mountain is condensed thought form. Many many hundreds of manifest thought vibrations. Its true that we create this world with our thoughts. Mounatins are formed, sunlight trickles golden, rivers flow, rocks sit, grass dances. They are all events we have written in our minds. Thought is the real action. Are we now experiencing our ancestors thoughts? Gods thoughts? My fathers thoughts, yours, mine? whose thoughts are these? whoever so, they left them behind to settle into matter. When a thought becomes solid enough, it appears. Simple as that. Mind is matter.

They float around us, creating invisible spaces, pockets of energy vibrating. Clearing or condensing. Rising or falling. Negeative thoughts are heavy and they sink. Positive thoughts are light and they rise into new worlds, meeting with other thoughts of their own kind. Creating whole planets. Spheres of delicious light, nourishing projects that call upon them.
I invoke thee. Lift the little rocks in my mind. Tie them to silver string and make a mobile of dangling dreams. Chinking, clinking dreams like the wind chime. How many times have I heard that sound in my inner ear when I feel my thoughts chiming with others of their own accord.  When my wonder filled friends speak their hearts in dancey combinations and all I hear is chink and chimes.

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There was silence. A magnitude of silence. A hush in the mind. A hush in the soul. One inherently knows when it is a time for inner stillness. A respect for the space within and the space without. How one mirrors the other. A respect for your outer mountain and the inner mountain too becomes calm and clear. An ascent to clarity. Through the clouds. And out the other side.  Though they seem windy, cold and bleak. That golden sunshine shines just beyond. And then you go to stand in it and its gone. Moves somewhere else. This elusive light, always moving about. Keeping you on your feet. Keeping you wanting. Keeping you human and just slightly removed from the proximity of divinity.

Transcending the limitations of the physical realm. The material realm we embody. 

To look up and say "I did that. I made that. I am that!" and then "I am beyond that".
I made that with my thoughts. I perceived it in my minds eye and then I climbed it. Whatever inner meaning speaks to you through that experience is yours and yours alone. We make our own mountains. We have a great force of thinking and creative energy swirling atmospheric conditions into the production of form. Emotions and elements interacting to form causal events.
When its time to approach the mountain you do. You suddenly find yourself there without having made any effort to be there. Its almost as if the Mountain comes to you.
Your location/ proximity to various natural phenomenon tells you exactly where you are. What your situation is.  Both on spiritual and corporal levels.

I am currently in-between a mountain and the sea. Stillness and wildness.
I'll have to mediate on that potent meaning for a while.

Devendra sings about how 'Mountains they move toward the sea.'

My heart knows.
But How much does it know? to what extent does its knowledge reach? It has made me realise that my heart really is the seat of all knowledge and wisdom in my being. It over powers the mind, makes it look futile and immature. It has also made me realise that yes, at our core is truth and beauty and health and joy and light and all the knowledge of the universe inside and out. And the heart is the gateway between these realms of knowledge, the life-essence as it trickles into the inert form of matter we have around us. The energy engaging with this inertia, makes it breathe. Makes it perform tasks outside of its self. Becomes the vehicle of the task. The energy is the real doer, the material is the host for the party of doing, happening through its walls. When you know the inner world, this outer one becomes so easy to reference. You can say… oh that rock reminds me of *some inner fact*, rather than the other way around. The outer world is the reference, the inner world is the fact. You can then engage with it all as a language. As a big clump of clay to converse with.

Mother nature is my Guru.

How do I get more words? Collect them. Scrape them together from the bottom of the barrel, find them coagulated and gooey in high potency formulas. Pick up a rock. There is a word there. Inspect the texture of a slug. There are words there. Uncover the words in your daily doings. Match in the symbol with its reference point. Make it a game. You are a child after all. Feel the feelings in the words. Word the feelings.


I'm off to go find some more words. Speaking in symbols again.

Joy. rainbow joy. liquid joy. Enough love to go around for all.
Belly aching laughter. Knee slapping hilarity.

Starting a catalog of personal symbols. Life as it brings these events to me.
The word is a replicate. These words are a replicate of my thought formations. Words make them transmittable, engagable, communicable. And so what exactly is the purpose of communication? To share ideas that unlock truths within peoples understanding of life. To bring people closer to themselves. aha! THAT is my divine purpose. Through things. Through yoga, through language, through art, through love, all vehicles for uncovering golden truths within. 

Everything/ anything can be a portal to your Self. This very moment is a portal. I am here. I am now.