Monday, February 25, 2013

monk

I meditate within this cave called Daily Life.
I neither sit cross-legged nor perform yogic feats.
Centering deeply, opening boundlessly, merging with what is.
Facing and dealing with all that arises. No face. No deal.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

pedaling my recycle

I said, "I do not want to go." "It is time," they said. "I like it here, have grown comfortable, do not want to leave," I said. "That is what you said last time," they said. I said, "Yes, I was happy and here you came, saying it was time to go." "Don't be snippy," they said. "It's not good for your journey."

The "last time" they referred to was when I was floating in the Cosmic Ocean of the Mystery. Then they said I had to go. "I do not want to go." I said. "Part of your contract," they said.

I went. I found myself floating in the birth chamber of a human female. I became happy there. Everything I wanted was provided instantly. "Not so bad," I thought. Then they came again and said, "It is time." "I do not want to go," I said.

I have been out of that birth chamber for many decades now. I like it here, have grown comfortable, do not want to leave. Here they come again. One says, "Your departure time is drawing near." "I do not want to go," I said. "I'm just now learning how to do this. I have work yet unfinished." They look at each other and smile. "He has new arguments now," they said.

I smile.