Reflections in a Petri Dish — Nov 25, 2017
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
Gratitude… gratitude… gratitude. I measure my wealth in the quality of my friends. I always have. How well off is a person to have both visible and invisible friends? How fortunate is one to have friends when one has very little tangible or material to speak of and can then be certain that their friends are real, as is the friendship?
We have so many reasons to be grateful and most likely are unaware of how fortunate we are. I remind myself that every hour of every day, there are tens of thousands in terrible crisis; in unbearable pain, suffering heartbreaking loss, living on the street, locked up in a jail, terrified in an abusive situation, being sold for the pleasure of psychopaths. I could list one after the other, until I ran out of the appointed space. At the other side of the spectrum, there are those whose lives are filled with continuing live streaming blessings. In some cases they seem to be the most undeserving among us. There is no explaining Karma, just as there is no way of them getting; that even in the midst of great karma, you can easily be creating bad karma for succeeding rounds.
Yesterday they murdered over two hundred people in a SUFI mosque. Sufi! They let you know that certain conservative sects, like Islamic State, do not like Sufis. Sufis are the ones I appreciate the most. Then we are told that Coptic Christians, another sweetheart group of people are also under assault. I find it very odd that the Sufis and Coptics are being attacked. There is nothing bad that I can say about either as they both capture the very best of their traditions. Of course it is no accident and of course this is all being engineered and precisely because of who and what they are.
I’m sitting here with my broken foot. I’m not even aware of it unless I have to crutch from one room to another and the inconvenience is nothing to me, when I think about all those sub-groups of suffering souls we gave only a small portion of mention to. Right in this moment, it is going on everywhere, in almost every nation… in so many places. Right now, truly conscienceless and evil men and women are doing unspeakable things to children. Eastern European and Asian women are being trafficked across borders for the soul-dead pleasure of rutting beasts once human but human no longer. They’re walking all the way, partially under their own power but with borrowed power to spare if they need it and the same applies to those of us climbing mountains, only to find an entire range of more mountains stretching out afterwards and beyond. It’s all banking. It’s banking ‘down here’, as money flows to industries and agendas that serve the interests and profits of the ones investing and it’s banking ‘up there’ as grace and inspiration flow into dreams of liberation for all and at some point, cease to be a dream …because a dream is only the imagination in pursuit of validation, of what has been imagined. Once validated, it is no longer a dream. That which flows down is made real the moment it is visualized in the mind of the ineffable, all one has to do is walk the length of necessary experiences to flesh it out enough so that it can be left as both a lesson and a path to walk for those who come after.
It’s all perfect though it may not look that way. Time and Gravity, consciousness and imagery, bodies at rest and bodies in motion, all conspire and engage in the necessaries of every plot, be it Tolstoyian or vignette, to bring about every jot and tittle, so that ‘the whole of the law’ might be expressed and experienced and left as testimony for ‘how it goes.’ There are sad tales, far too many of them in these times of the appearance of more darkness than light and there are heartwarming tales as well.
In these times, humanity as a whole, is painted as zombie marching dullards, thumb-fucking their cellphones in search of an epiphany that has never been, nor ever shall be, battery operated …but… humanity is a great deal more than this. I have the evidence of personal experience that there are many wonderful souls working, diligently, in every small and great way to bring a better image to replace poorly manufactured templates, set in plasticine caricature of what shines in its essence beneath the cartoon surface. A master is someone who throws nothing away and a master is one who is regent on all planes and so, at least according to Gurdjieff, should be able to take care of at least 30 other people besides themselves with their own efforts before they call themselves a master; not that one should ever think of doing so at any time. Lady Nature steps forward to speak on the behalf of every true master.
It is exceptionally difficult to hold fast to the truth, when you do not know what the truth is, when it is at right angles to everything else, when it is out of sight and forever around the corner and only those who know that light bends are in any position to see it. Perhaps one of the best ways to know the truth is to know what is not the truth and that is probably best described as, ‘everything else’. Some part of true can be seen in its perpetuity, because the truth outlasts everything but Love. The greatest handicap to being able to see the truth is the degree to which the observer is not true. The truth is something that cannot be found but which reveals itself when the witness has acquired the awareness necessary to see it when it is shown to them. Let us consider the legend of the Holy Grail, where only Galahad, who had remained pure (and true?) was able to see The Grail. Sir Percival who had one sin could only see it in visions and Lancelot could not see it at all because of his adultery with Guinevere.
It stands to reason if the truth- as much as can be contained in legend and expressed in allegory- substituting that for The Holy Grail (which may be no substitution at all) can only be seen by one who is as true as the truth itself. From this I take it to mean that every legitimate and enduring state is holistic and an expression of gestalt. Anything enduring and real must be self contained, as if it were a universe to itself; a Microprosopus, if you will. Is the world a numinous expression or is it aleatory? I know for certain it is the former and only crass opportunists and selfish, self interest junkies give any credence to the latter.
Let us consider the generosity and mercy of the ineffable. Surely there are few of us that can see ourselves in a fashion similar to Galahad but… imagine, if you will, the tale of Paul of Tarsus, or Ignatius of Loyola (this is why I implore the reader to make biographies a part of their studies). It was he who founded The Jesuits. Did he know what would come of that? Did the origins of Masonry anticipate the hijacking of the system by psychopathic Jews? Here is what I remember about St Ignatius. He told his followers to go out and see God in all things. I can’t argue with that, because of the mystic mirror of the self and self reflected. Buddha had a lot to say about that and the function of the mind. I often think about quicksilver and its relationship to the mind. The reason why love is such a powerful force; one of the chief reasons is that we are everything. We are the microcosm, a miniature of the ineffable… potentially a reflection of the Macroprosopus, a mirror image. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I refer you again to The Greatest Commandment. Forgiveness by the ineffable washes the slate clean and leaves one with a tabla rasa;
“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
Why has it got to be so goddamned hard? It isn’t hard. Making up our minds is what is hard. Convincing ourselves beyond argument, so as to give over every aspect of our existence to what cannot be comprehended or defined is what is hard. Knowing without any confusion, resistance or doubt and having the faith, certitude and determination to live it with every breath is what is hard. Following that state of transforming conviction, it is the easiest thing in the world. It’s a piece of cake, literally and… you get to eat it too.
Dear Lord, you have blessed me beyond the possibility of measurement. You have lifted me out of the dust and mortality of the dust of all the temporary cities of fire and chaos. You have granted me what I find myself incapable of believing is true and you remind me, every day, that it is true and that you will enforce the absolute certainty of that upon me when it pleases you to do so and that I need not concern myself one way or the other; thy will be done AS IT IS DONE on Heaven and on Earth, forever and always, regardless of any and all appearances to the contrary, for ever and ever, Amen.
Yes… everywhere on Earth, every hour of the day, tragedy and depravity and every other permutation of gain and loss, are celebrated on their separate altars in torment and blood, in laughter and glee. Right this minute, lives rise and fall. The appointed hour has come to thousands upon thousands in their coming and going and the hiatus point between them. One has only to Love the ineffable and honor the ineffable, in every meeting and greeting, expected and unexpected along our way. To the extent of the extent of the intensity and force of focus upon this, to that degree is it expedient or slower than a bad day at the Motor Vehicle Department. A day in prison and a day at the beach exist in what passes for a good interpretation of a continuum. “Success is speedy for the energetic.”
Gratitude… accept no substitute.