If Not Now...

Earthquake here, tornado there, hurricane to the left, flood to the right.

Governments engaged in so-called diplomatic talks just to save or earn power.

Power...

Military troops shuffling around, nuclear plants springing up where flowers once bloomed.

Children dying, mothers crying.

Fathers shouting out in helplessness.

Mother earth is raped, and it is writhing in pain, screaming out in every language and utilizing every method it knows.

When will we see that we are all in it together!?

We all need the same things.

We all want the same things.

We all think the same things.

We all feel the same things.

We all are the same things.

We are all in it together!

East and west, north and south, above and below the equator. Concepts as relative as these have divided us from each other, forced us into tiny boxes with no windows or doors, created fear and lack of trust, moved us far and away from what really is.

We all need each other.

We all rely on each other.

We all affect each other.

We all must learn from each other.

We all must learn to see each other.

We all have the same mother. The same mother. The same mother! One mother... The same one mother.

Earth.

Planet Earth.

Earth is pleading with us. It is begging us. It is shaking us in all ways it knows to get our attention, our affection, and our appreciation.

When will we find love for each other?

When will we hug each other?

When will we stop murdering each other?

When will we take care of our one mother and our one family?

When?

When?

When?

Sunglasses

Sunglasses on. High heels on. Decorative hat and scarf on. Form-fitting attire on. Air of carelessness and confidence spitting out while the eyes barely meet mine. The gaze glides over like a snake over the horizon, then notices mine for a fraction of a seemingly long moment, spirals downward and away. In shame. Or fear. And though everything about the outside is screaming for attention, the eyes hardly meet mine.

"Sometimes the clothes do not make the man." -George Michael

I want to see the eyes. I want to feel the creature behind the wall of perceived perfection. I want to make contact with another human in a human way. A smile would suffice. A visual contact, lasting two fractions of a seemingly long moment, to acknowledge the other's presence. To dissolve the pretense for that long. To be that who we are, siblings made of the same ingredients and baked to perfection.

The game

Yes. It looks as if it's true, which is that any event in of itself is neutral. As an entity, any happening or circumstance has no intrinsic value. It's not good or bad, positive or negative, or some other label. Take a football game, as an example. A ball flies far and high. One player fumbles it while the other catches it. For one team, the event is disasterous, and the other team is doing the happy dance. (Well, the NFL version of the "dance.")

And so it goes that we can choose to label any event in any way we want. What's more, we can just see it from a distance and watch it develop without any label at all! What's even more, we can see so many more possibilities that each event creates rather than the few options we see initially. That would be so wonderful, so empowering, so freeing! Imagine the types of days that can be created out of that paradigm.

Life may simply be just a game that we play. We can choose our team, our teammates, our coaches, our fans. We can choose to experience all there is to experience knowing full-well we're simply playing a game. We can play for fun just as children do, and we can bring joy into our everyday events, including sitting in the dentist's chair. That would sure be a fulfilling life!

Four Steps

First, a block created from within. The block expands, grows, sprawls like a spider's web, captures the mind. The block is now the runner of things. It is now a powerful leader. He's uncontested.

Second, resistance appears. Anything that is perceived as a threat to the newly established regime is to be ridiculed and ignored. The mind is closed to another possibility that may induce a change. The change may crumble down the edifice erected, and that, can be disasterous. The story will no longer hold. A shift in thinking may follow.

Third, resistance melts. Suddenly, a lightness overtakes the present moment. Thinking is easy and accepting. Everything seems easy and free. What is now an obsolete block dissolves out of the existence. An understanding that it was never real takes root. A load lifts and a smile appears. The arms unfold and fall to the sides in a relaxed fashion. The sun rises, the colors brighten up.

Fourth, a shift in thinking is set in motion. The fear anticipated in the resistance phase realizes, and it feels liberating and elevating. An infant of a new paradigm is conceived, and I am ready to move forward.

The Overload

I am walking through an alley. One car. Two cars. Another one. All drive by me. There's a man and his dog. There is a car alarm that's turned off to my right. I enter the tree-lined street. Now, a child and his nanny, an acceleration of a BMW, and the red truck lights. Then silence for a fraction of time. Tree branches are brushed by the wind's caress. My feet step over fallen dry leaves. The birds are singing through the cry of an ambulance in the near distance.

I am walking through the city with all my senses turned outward. I am scoping out potential danger, ever on a lookout. I am fully engaged, alert, aware of all that could be. I am equally unaware of my inner processes. As the noise dies down, the natural world around me and, by extension, within me is now perceived by my senses. I feel the breeze, I hear the churping. I hear my sandals against the asphalt, I notice muscle tension.

Human reality is experienced through the physical senses. If these are on overload with continous external stimuli, how much of the world is actually experienced by us? How often do I hear the birds and the leaves with my focus centered on avoiding injury or causing one? How well can I listen to my own self through all the external sounds vibrating my ear drum? And how can I pay attention to what I need, want, or long for when all of my capacities are overtaken by the chaos of a city?

More to follow....

On My Way

Have you ever wondered why you want to have relationships? Of any kind. I mean, fundamentally. In the most basic terms, the reason for being surrounded by people is to feel fulfilled. Wherever there is a hollow, we want to fill it with another. (Occasionally, we have relationships with animals or cars, who and which serve the same role as humans.) From here, I am led to believe that we have certain expectations regarding where we want the relationship to go. And from here, I am led to believe is where all confusion and pain arise. About expectations. What is the basis of them? Where do they come from? Who programmed them into our being?  I am curious about when and where was it that I've come to have a definition of a relationship. It seems to me that we may operate by an unexamined belief system passed onto to us from whatever comes after Ice Age. If unexamined, if unevaluated, if followed by blindly, we are surely led to many misunderstandings. We are also led to live by that which may be not true. Not just for us, not just in theory, but fundamentally. And now from here, I reach a point where I want to know if I am aware of what my own definition and my own expectations are. I also want to know if my expectations are real. After all, what I think and feel and desire changes rather frequently, like the weather system. If I am different from morning to evening, or year to year, then my expectations are very likely to be different. Perhaps, my relationships, too, need to change along with me. Thus, the only expectation and perhaps, reality, is that relationships are simply stopping points for rest and help, and question and answer on this path of life.

Born Again

Is it really possible to feel like you've been born again for the first time at the age of, say, 30? And with that feeling permeating nearly every cell of your body, would you look at the world and your new self with the eyes of a newborn? And with that innocent and clean perspective that you now possess, would you find yourself confused? Confused about the life that you have led. Confused about the life you currently lead. And, even more confused about the life you are about to lead?

If all you have thought you knew and believed to be true is no longer that, where does that leave you? Would you find yourself feeling like you're stuck on an island with no one around and no lifeline? Would you find yourself feeling like the black sheep of the family? Would you find yourself feeling like you're stuck in an ever-moving crowd of people, and your head is spinning, and your breath is shallow, and you're suffocating under the pressure to join them, but your body won't budge?

And when the night falls on you head, and the moon shines with mystery, and the crowd slows down to a humane pace, would you stand by the cold wall and wonder if you have a place here? Would you look for the perfectly round red dot on the ground with your name on it, designating your special space? Or would you want to start running, as long and as far as you can, into the unknown, into the ether of the air, into the depth of the universe, screaming for help, for you are acutely aware of your ignorance and fear?

Is this what a newborn feels like when first emerging from the warmth of the womb?

Back to the Roots

The following is just the beginning of a thought.

There are a few bright lights in this world who already have it in them from day one. For the rest of us, life is mostly a struggle.

Before we can produce in the world, we need to feel the power of love, which happens to be the driving force behind the production. We will not be satisfied with whatever it is we do until we have that driving force accessible to us at whim. We are told from those around us to do XYZ as a means of finding happiness and meaning in life. Some X's can be inspiring and nice, but insufficient. What we need is permission and encouragement to discover the truth of who we are. We need to connect with ourselves. To know ourselves. To feel the love that is strong within us, even if buried.

As adults, the best way to do so would be through entering meditative states. As children, the best way to do that is through proper education. (Of note, chronological age is not necessarily the event that marks the transition from childhood to adulthood).

If children are properly "educated," their sense of themselves, or what's important, of their own power and love will be largely developed early in life. As a result, they have the potential to become happier and more productive (not just in terms of physical output) as adults. The old cycle of misery, stagnation, uncertainty, and running toward or away from something can be greatly stalled.

If adults take a little bit of time on a regular basis to get away from the limited world they are in, and enter a high energy space, cleansing themselves of old programming, the love can and will be recovered. This will become a starting point of a fruitful and joyous existence that looks like generosity, creativity, and meaning in all we do.

And one day later, I find this TED talk: http://www.search-institute.org/sparks

Insensitive

I am affected.
Deeply.
To the core.
With every touch.
And every push.
The dirty hand.
Like a snake.
Sliding along.
My person.
Blindness.
Blame.
Bumping my heart.
Nudging me.
Pulling me.
Off my axis.
Pain.
Tears.
Loss.
I am spun.
Uncontrollably.
Carelessly.
Torn.
From the root.
Topped off.
With guilt.
For good measure.
For being honest.

Two Worlds

Harvard Business School. I am walking up an incline, relaxed, tired, and glistening from the afternoon sun when I see a woman jogging toward me, wearing a t-shirt in Harvard colors with the big emblem across the front. She's jogging with a tense determination felt in every forced movement of her body. Harvard. Business. Thinking. Goals. Logic. Linear progression. I am lazily strolling up an incline, putting one foot in front of the other, feeling the breeze on my skin, the sun burning my back, the work of my quads. I am fully present and engaged. I am here. The woman is running, her eyes are focused, her face intense, her mind appears to be buried in the future. There has to be is a possibility that she sees me.

In this moment, I see the contrast with full clarity in full color. The mind versus the feeling. Thinking versus experiencing. Doing versus being. My beach experience feels so expansive, so big, it feels as if the day has added several hours onto itself. The mind is left to marvel at the enormity of it. I am light and open, welcoming and relaxed. I move toward my target slowly, aware of all things around, in comfort and serenity. Thinking. Goals. Logic. Linear progression. In that moment, these feel colorless. They cannot be a substitute for the richness of the present, which breathes with unpredictability and life itself.

She's running. I am in a saunter. Two opposing worlds moving toward and passing each other. What if, eventually, the two form an everlasting bond, and move us toward real exaltation? That would be the day the world sings.

In Most Need

She's anxious. She can't sit still. Words are spoken at the speed of light. She's fidgeting. She's raising her voice. Suspicion reigns. Distrust and cynisim prevail. I have no space to finish a thought. I'm on the clock.. I listen. I listen. I listen. I feel frustration, annoyance, anger. I am all twisted inside. Every inch of my body is tense. Her bullets have hit me the second she entered my space. I am unable to dodge them and find an opening through her onslaught. I am keeping my distance, my body facing hers, so as not to lose track of her next maneuver. She's going down and she's taking me with her.

The light gets marginally brighter. I see her. I walk around gently, approaching her small body. I sit down next to her. She is quieter now. I look for the spark of that light, and I hug her. Tears run down her defeated face. She hugs me back. She relaxes. The armor comes off. Anxiety lost for that moment. She leaves. Relieved, lighter, perhaps, connected. Humanity makes its grand re-entry.

It is the dark and the heavy ones who are in most need of love.

The Future

We create.

We create from inside out.
We create our outer world.
We create out of love and fear.

We can create from outside in.
We can create an inner world.
We can create out of love and more love.

We create with our minds.
We create with our hearts.
We can create with our souls.

A Woman

Eyes, gentle. Look, piercing.

Arms, relaxed. Movement, sensual.

Step, forward. Action, effortless.

Fingers, resting. Touch, healing.

Legs, oh legs...they are everywhere. Support, powerful.

Soft breeze caresses the sun-withered face, rolls down the skin to the fingertips, ruffles the flowing dress tangled up around hard-working legs, while heads turn to wonder at the presence of her.

A woman.