The project of this life.

Am I relevant? Am I naive? Am I alone? Do I have a voice? Does my voice matter? Does it say anything useful to others? Am I using my hands correctly? Am I fulfilling my exponential potential? Do I hold the right relationship with myself? Do I hold the right relationship with the world around me? What can I do to help the world become more peaceful? Am I lost? Am I found?

What can I do with these hands who want to work; want to create, make, love, caress, tend to, heal, gesticulate, energise, harmonise? They want to express, press, hold, laugh. These laughing hands. Where do they rest? Upon whom? Drenched in what? which type of clay, what kind of pen, finger painting, folding paper, finger nail scratching, etching a way.

These questions are right next to everything I do.  My actions are encased in them.

I want to be unafraid to speak. To find my right expression. To let the inner waterfall flow. out.

The project of this life. Is unfolding the plan. Finding the correct path. Planting flowers along side the path for others who may follow. For my own self to follow. again and again. Its already been walked. I can almost see my own footsteps. For tiny steps I tread so deep. Noisy steps I have made. I've been here before. I'm picking up the pieces I dropped. Trying consciously to tread lighter, softer. Things will be rectified. The circle will be complete.

The blockage has been this pleasing nature of mine. Tailoring myself to fit what I think others want me to be. I observe what others are, I confuse myself with what others are. I'm just exploring myself. so little do I know.

I'm nostalgic for Gokarna. That beach. I was placed. Yet whilst there I was nostalgic for my own life. Always elsewhere. Every time we try to pin it down its not there. WHAT is that thing that is never there?  And how do we know we want it, if there is no proof of it? The proof that it is, is simply that it is not. How far can we break down an atom before we realise that at the core of everything is nothing but cosmic energy. "How do we know we are alive if we haven't once been dead?" Says Allan Watts. Things are only there, only distinct in the light of an opposite. If there is an 'I' there must also be a non-I? There must be gaps in the music for the music to be. It is the gaps of nothing which holds the real music, the real beauty. Music is a series of gaps of nothing. A dance of a series of nothings. Such is life.

__________________

Watch your feelings as if they are energies manifesting within you. Visiting you. Expressing themselves through you. Becoming aware/ known to themselves through you.

I grab a handful of this earth. my knee. with both hands. I know its not really there. so where is it?

What am I really grabbing when I grab my knee?

tomorrow it will be gone? or something else. This knee will cease to be.

I feel tenderness manifesting. I feel motherly. female. the healing nature within.

Soon this will attract to itself another. A beautiful stallion. Soon I will ride, with my man, the stallion and the wind. The bees will pollinate. then they will relocate.

For ever I have been trying to find a reasoning for beauty. I've been defending it. Placing it within the importance of what life is. Now I realise it is beauty which gives life its meaning. Beauty is the crux, the aim, the reason for life itself. Creative prowess. Beauty let it be.

Elemental studies. The study of the elements. The way they feel, taste, smell, sound, look, are. An arrangement of life, of feeding energies, interlocking, weaving, working, breathing. Molecular beings, appearing solid, liquid, gaseous. States of being. Simple. Complex. Signposts. Pointing silently.

Studying the matter, studying the spirit. As spiritual qualities manifest themselves in material symbols. The medium is the message. Observational techniques. How to observe, extract, become the knowledge locked inside of them. Absorb it into our own. Observe the patterns of nature. Work with them.

We recognise it as truth because we know it already inside. We forgot it. Life is a remembering.

Shedding, dissolving, expanding.

One day I'm going to build a shelter out of twigs and drift wood. With gaps to let the breeze through so my skin knows the sky better. I'll sleep on a bed of grass and wash myself in a river. I'll let fire radiate, imitate the sun on me. I'll chop wood. I'll sing to the vegetables. I'll put energy back into the earth instead of only taking it. I'll know things I could never dream of knowing. I'll converse with all things. Understand the symmetry inside a flowers mind. Understand how trees grow upwards, how spiders weave, caterpillars cocoon, how butterflies realise.

When I know these things I will paint the riddle in the sky with stars. Then lay on my back and laugh at how funny the whole thing really is.

Morning Glory.

This morning I surrender myself to the rhythms of the universe.
The sun shines. I lie in it.
I fixate my mind on the peace and tranquility that surrounds me.
The water blue. Sky blue. All is a heavenly blue.
I ground myself in the dewy grass.
Warmth radiates around me, it penetrates into the depth of my being.
Light at its core, the sunshine meets itself in the middle.

I lay in Savasana.
I listen to the singing crickets,
the nattering tree birds,
the local sea birds soaring, preying,
the fish splashing,
the water lapping,
The oysters popping.
I listen to these things being.
To the morning being.
I acknowledge the soul in each of these life sources.

  

I thank God for this beauty.
I thank God.


My head to the ocean
My palms to the sky

I breathe.

I breathe deeply. Completely.
With every deep inhalation I feel my stomach rise.
With every exhalation it falls.

Rise

Fall

Rise

Fall

Rise

Fall.

My breath is a bridge. It connects my spirit with the physical world around me.
I breathe in the soul of the day.
I breathe in beauty. I breathe cosmic atmosphere.
I breathe heaven into my earth.

I am warm on my East side. The sun side.
I become aware of the parts of my body in contact with the earth.
The back of my heels,
legs,
buttocks,
the two small pointy parts of my lower back,
my lower back,
middle back,
upper back,
shoulder blades,
my elbows and arms,
the back of my head.
Gravity holds me down
I am completely grounded.

I become the moment where earth meets the sky.
I marry the two.
I am their child. Father Sky. Earth Mother.
And in accordance I become their union.
The blending of one into the other.
And with this knowledge I feel the boundaries of my self expand.
Then I feel the boundaries dissolve.
I feel at One.
I feel no I.
I feel not singular, the edges are disseminating.
Becoming All.
I feel day. Light. Awareness. Being.

This dissolving sensation is the most beautiful in the world.
When you lose yourself to the moment. Become the moment.
Pure. Bliss.

I relax in this state for a few moments.
Mind fixed on nothing but my own Being.
My own breathing.
I breathe
I breathe
I breathe.

I start my Yoga. Union with the Divine.

I spiritualise my day.

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When I am finished my practise I walk myself down to the moment where earth becomes water.
I immerse my feet.
I crouch, cup my hands and fill them with the salty ocean water.
I bathe my face. Wipe wet fingers across my closed eyes. My forehead.
I repeat these words aloud;

"Consciousness. Truth. Awareness. Love. Beauty. Peace. Joy. Compassion."

I sprinkle another hand-cup full over my head and let it drip down over my face and body.
Like Holy water blessed by the suns sattvic morning rays.
I repeat the Universal Prayer to the vast expanse of peace and stillness before me.

I begin my day.

This is my Sadhana. 

The Boomerang in my hand.

I've been moving here, moving there
looking for a way to define.
Writing something. Crossing it out.
Making a category only to change the name another day
when I think 'oh no its really more like 'this''
'this' is constantly redefining that which I am;
Not working!
Possibly because I've realised I am That which is undefinable.
I see myself in all things.
I notice myself in all things.
Sometimes being in the world feels like that moment when you glance at a reflection of yourself and your not expecting it. Your mind goes 'holy heck that person looks exactly like me' before you click that it is you.
_________________________

She found it!
She found it through words
He found it!
He found it through sensations
They found it!
They found it through praying with the body
I am going to find it too!

I am going to find my way home!

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Through using these things, by being these things until I realise the sensations only give you a taste,
a minute little fragment of what is to be explored
beyond
saturation of live elements
The saturation of life.

Letting it come in, letting it reside, feeling it to the bone, then feeling it beyond the bone...
This is my mantra.

...beyond the deepest aching part, the willingness of the body to receive the souls words
only goes so far, yet it reaches further, it penetrates through you starting from within and like a boomerang it comes back to the starting point - in a rhythmical circular motion moving outwards and inwards simultaneously. 
Like a broken heart. Did a broken heart not begin from a place of pure bliss, from love? I don't understand, but I can FEEL it. And for some reason that is a form of understanding too intricate for the mind to conceive. That clumsy mind. Why do we trust it so much?

This is the way to feel things. To let them move in and beyond our capacity to understand them. They are beautiful. These earthly sensations. They are a blueprint. They are surface but grow from within. All things grow from within.

When I see this combination of earth sea and sky, I can't believe how much it moves me. I imagine myself exploding and shattering into tiny glittering molecules and scattering out like a heavenly cascade into the corners of the picture. And I KNOW I'm not seeing the whole picture. Into every little crevice I run, I land, I be, I sea.
I mountain. I grass. I earth. I blue. I sunshine. I cloud. I ether. I glittery ripples on the water shimmering. I am. these things. when unconfined by my body, I am these things. Even whilst confined, I am. My heart sings with this picture because it recognises itself. Such a perfect expression of beauty.

When you constantly think in waves of beauty and peace, and then you find yourself immersed in this image... its the Boomerang!! It produces laughter this boomerang. You throw it out into the world, and here it is, back in your hand!

When your only desire is for your life to be beautiful. When you ache from within with it. When beauty gets to that achy stage, you know its hit the bone. It has manifest itself so deep it hurts. But what is pain? When hot and cold feel the same.
Its pulsating. That's what it is, pulsating beauty. The mind drips with it, it licks it up off the blade of grass covered in morning dew. The earths atmosphere condensed like heavenly water. Diamonds. Sunlit diamonds on green blades of sword grass. Ready to be touched, aching to be touched. The grass needs love as much as we. Its needs passion, and to delight in the sensation of its own being.  To rub against another thing, to feel itself against another thing. To feel itself.

This is what we do, when we rub up against another. On a higher level we are trying to feel ourselves.

My clothes allow me to feel my body. My lover allows me to feel my heart. This bed, this cup, this warm tea, this song… all touch my senses and allow me to experience myself. In external form.
Life is feeling from the outside, what we find is inside. This whole experiment on earth is to imagine what life is like from the outside. Yet its all within. The whole thing. That's the irony.

That's the Boomerang!