Visible Origami — Feb 7, 2014
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
There seems to be some question of where it is and is not safe these days. Well, the truth is, it’s unsafe and safe everywhere at some point and there are all kinds of safe and unsafe too. There’s outside safe and unsafe and there’s inside safe and unsafe. There’s people who are unsafe and safe to begin with and it pretty much doesn’t matter where they are… most of the time… most of the time. Some people go into combat and get blown away in the first week and some people go unscathed through several tours and- indeed- an entire career. I know such people. Some people get imprisoned in bad places on various occasions and move through it as if they had some kind of invisible shield, like me. Others are not so lucky. It sure would be nice to know ahead of time which category you fell into wouldn’t it? Some might argue conversely (or is that inversely?) that there are others who skated past being locked up (and were far more deserving of it) on a consistent basis.
Some of us have a ‘get out of the neighborhood clinic’ free card and some of us are a walking laboratory of STD’s. Some of us get sick on a regular basis and some of us almost never get sick. Except for one year in recent memory when I had a slew of complaints, I might catch some flu like event once every ten years in March or April (for some reason). I know why this is. There are many things I do not know the why of. I know the why of this. It is of premium importance to know legitimately what you do and do not know the why of.
There are some of us who are haunted by fear whatever we may do, or wherever they may be. They jump at shadows and sudden movements startle them. Some of us face future uncertainties a thousand times before we are in the midst of them; dying a thousand deaths as it were. That’s the thing about freedom. It is strictly a matter of personal interpretation. Relative freedom is everywhere and watched through a kaleidoscope of time, or analyzed through some internal diorama, reflecting outward for comparison and having the same informativeness as watching a tachometer rise and fall but… what really matters is which gear you’re in, still… you could be sitting in a garage somewhere and listening to some virtuoso play the pneumatic impact wrench, while you dream of being Nicholas Cage going bankrupt from buying too many castles with, apparently not enough of them located in Spain. Hmmm… he had a lot more Rolls Royce’s. Now… having a separate yacht on four different oceans, that’s impressive. I look at all the money people waste and one thing I’m sure of is that money is as wasted on the rich, as youth is wasted on the young.
The ineffable told me that all the struggles of my life that led me to the point I’m presently passing through were meant to precede the times ahead. I’ve learned that nothing is worse than to have things conferred upon you at an age where you are not capable of handling what you have. Look at the people who screw up fame, wealth and power, those who were chosen for the purpose of ‘that demonstration’.
I remember any number of friends that I had who had an easy cruise coming up, loving and indulgent parents, easy circumstances. Later on real life was a lot more difficult for them than it was for me, even though I had much harder circumstances thrown at me. They leveled out at whatever plane they found acceptable and they’re now wrapped up tight in the surround sound of what they accommodated to. Within that envelope, it makes sense according to itself. I don’t know any of them that are still persistent in the search, all though we traveled alongside one another for a time, at different times, we parted company because we parted ways. No blame, although I will admit to feeling somewhat injured on occasion when they no longer remembered some of the amazing things we had gone through. Then, as I told them of one experience or another they would recall portions of it but I always had the sense they would rather not be reminded and were relieved when the subject changed to something else. It was odd and it still feels odd.
I used to know a whole lot of people and I cared about them. It would cost me a few hundred dollars a month to call them and it always felt wonderful to talk. I was, as usual, thousands of miles away somewhere, ergo, Les Visible. At one point I just decided to stop calling and I never heard from most of them again. then at one point I lost the phone book with all of their numbers and that was it (grin). I’m sure there are others like me out there who lost everything they had (not just phone books) numerous times …and had to wonder, could I have handled it better? Was there something about my approach, the way I went about things that was routinely bringing these things about? It was much later when I found out that I had no say in the matter.
When I met the ineffable on a beach in California, he said a number of things to me and I’ve included most of them at one point or another in various Origamis. For a long time I thought that the things I was told were a collection of universal truths. I knew he was the real deal a few months after I met him, when he initiated me through a massive Kundalini awakening and I found myself mimicking him in all the ways I remembered him; not playing at it, actualizing it. It was only in recent times that I came to realize that everything he told me was specific to me. Sure, they might apply across the board but… in recent times it has become clear that regardless of that, they were directed at me. He told me, “Everything is under control”. I have come to see that every single thing in my life is a demonstration of the interaction between myself and the divine. He said, “take the reins”. I’m still working on that. He told me God is a serpent and I saw that when the Kundalini experience occurred and I was seeing holographic serpents everywhere and still do, given the right comestible. I’m going to dance with Lord Ayahuasca in the next month or so, too bad I’ll probably be alone again (grin) but I will no doubt see holographic cobras.
He told me that God was sleeping and this was his dream. I said, “He’s going to wake up though, right?” He said, “I don’t know.” He was saying “I don’t know” in total more than anything else. I remember the moment, walking back toward the stream, a small little brook that ran crossways to the ocean ahead when I suddenly said, “I don’t know” and I really didn’t. It was a most uncanny experience. He was walking on ahead of me and when he got to the stream he turned and said, “You’re a celebrity here, you know?” I’m still working on that one too.
I remember being struck by his appearance. He was unlike any man I have seen before or since. He had one of those foreheads you see on those Asian figurines. His brow was compressed and brimming with force. I thought he was Chinese and I asked him. He snorted and said, “No.” He’s the one I got the snorting technique from. His body was near exactly like one sees on those Hindu statures of Shiva, or those bronze Bodhisattvas. He was buffed and streamlined in a way unlike anyone I’ve ever known. He was wearing Clark desert boots, brown Chino pants and a brilliantly clean and white t-shirt. He was immaculate. The cleanness radiated off of him yet, his fingernails were broken and dirty. It was an odd contrast. I remember the way he held his hands in front of him all the time with those invisible reins of force. At the time I thought he was crippled and felt sorry for him… heh heh. I remember the way he danced as the incredible music of the sixties poured out of this car that one fellow had driven down to the beach. There was something so timeless about it and I understood the origin of that dance after my own experience. Certain kinds of music would definitely set it off.
I never saw him again. Once I hitched hundreds of miles up the highway a couple of years later and then turned around and went back the other way when I was only a few miles away from that beach. Somehow I knew he wasn’t there. As time has passed I became convinced I would never see him again. He was just there to do that shaktipat thing and then went wherever entities like him go. It was only a few days ago that he told me I would see him again. “Do you really think all that would happen and I would be connected to it and you wouldn’t see me again? Do you ever really read and reflect upon the things you write?” Point taken. There are a lot of simple things I don’t seem to get sometimes and I’ve recently been told that’s that’s on purpose too and the more comprehensive purpose of it all is for me to recognize that every single circumstance in my life is under control. There is some kind of a definition that applies to people in this state but I don’t know what it is. The first I knew about that hand thing was when I saw a sitting Buddha figurine in an antique shop on Palm Canyon Drive in Palm Springs. That was a wakeup and another of those redundant anomalies that continue in my life. I spent months in Palm Springs living on nothing in the richest town in America, at the time. Having been picked up hitchhiking by Elvis Presley and then running into him in Palm Springs and then publicly interacting with him one evening, everyone thought I was a friend of his so I got left alone, for some while there. How many times something totally outrageous like this happened, I can’t even remember now. “What a long strange trip it’s been.”
Why I am going into this at this time, is that between my meeting with the man on the beach and my resultant Kundalini uprising, there has been an extensive period of inexplicable changes, hardships, setback after setback, sometimes there were good moments but mostly they were bad, or so they appeared. Trying to put into perspective the things that happened to me, right up until a year ago, in respect of this meeting, this event and all of my continuing struggles for greater awareness has made little or no sense to me. It was all about getting me to understand that I have no say in what goes on and coming to terms with that and accepting that. I suspect there are any number of us who have been put through similar changes that seemed to defy all of our best efforts and highest intentions. There is a very good reason for all of what happens. We just don’t see it and because we don’t see it, or them, things continue until we do see and we will only see when we are allowed to see. It’s all fixed, with a certain amount of wiggle room. Now you could find this depressing. It’s not but that’s how it is when you don’t see, given that we are resident in through a glass darkly land.
Something really big is coming. Some of us are going to see it in varying degrees of clarity and some of us, regrettably won’t see anything at all and if we do it will be an entirely different vision. Sometimes it seems very sad to me that so many things seem to be unavoidable. I stand back and tell myself that this and that could be so different and what would it take to accomplish that; not so much, not so much but… the drama goes where the drama wants to go for what has to be… very good reasons. I am now convinced, but I don’t know why, that things are just as they are supposed to be, regardless of whether I understand any of it AND… anyone and everyone gets every opportunity, no matter how it might seem otherwise. It’s a long and continuing haul across a strand of lifetimes like pearls around the neck of an unknown god. We can’t see this and that has got to be for a very good reason too.
The one thing the ineffable has been trying to hammer into me is, “rely on me” At different times I have heard it over and over. Apparently it accounts for everything that’s expected of me. I’m finally okay with that, whether I get it or not. I kinda get it. That’s going to have to be enough.
So… as for going to Maui in a couple of months and whether that’s the smartest thing I can do, I have to consider what my present environment offers and all nearby environments, the positive and the less than so. I have to consider what I’m familiar with and what familiarity was conferred on me by this location and nearby locations. I have to look at where my potential is best optimized. If Europe wants to keep me, then Europe can do something about it. Otherwise I’m going to opt for the place with which I have the greatest familiarity and has the finest and most welcoming environment, along with the most esoterically and etherically active elemental kingdom, as well as particular doorways that are most favorable to me; not to mention the benefits of a common language, one of the finest climates I’ve ever seen and one of the better places around for me to perform in the various mediums I work in and which I haven’t been able to employ here. In any case, it will either work out or it won’t and then… it will work out or it won’t but then it will work out. I’m pretty confident about that (grin). We’ll see.
God in Country – The Album
Visible sings: ♫ God’s Not Dead ♫
‘God’s Not Dead’ is track no. 3 of 11 on Visible’s 2001 album ‘God in Country’