7.27.10

prayer is like working magic tricks--a child could do it---with 20 years experience.

my experience today felt like that. it was simple---but it's taken me 29 years of prayer and lots of trial and error to get there.

7.26.10

in my lonliness, i sometimes wonder if it would be safe to ask to be freed from it.
perhaps i am safer in my world of beauty, of exquisite pains, of sweet nothings.
the occasional passerby seems to intersect a part of my world from time to time, but like a traveler from another place altogether other, their eyes can see only what they expect, and so, see little. i try to show them my prized roses, but they can see only ashes.

but perhaps, my garden grows best in solitude. and even, on occasion, my blessed trees, my beloved vines, and my precious flowers ask me to leave them in further solitude for a spell. they have their own secret rites as well. when they invite me back in, all is more wondrous than before.

so, i garden and bask and love and cry and fear nearly alone. and perhaps the once-in-a-while visitor makes it all the more sweet.

7.25.10

what is god, religion, faith, prayer. and why.
if theosis is a reality, and achieved, then what?

and so, if we are become the heart of god, what shall we do?
as i do not know, i can only imitate based on wild guesses.

i'll presume creation, love of beauty, sensuality, sporadic spurts of destruction, but never total.

so off i go.

7.23.10

Love Mgsr. Jordan's newest post. "Fern-ness". Priceless. Very zen.

He made a comment about how hard the AJC seminary process is and that most seminarians give up. I'm sure it's true, although it's true of the big churches, too. It's funny, and although I'm not an AJC seminarian, my own seminary experience is similar. My Bishop just this week told me what I need to 'become' (I already know what I need to 'do') in order to just enter the deaconate (as to the former up to now it's always been, 'we'll see'). You wouldn't believe the answer even if i told you. But I'm not in the least perturbed, ruffled or even surprised. I'm too busy being a 'fern.' Although I'm a pretty sexy fern, so that's something . . . . I can feel my fronds, my stem, and roots going down into the holy soil. And the fine mist. It is enough.

Thanks Jordan. You've nailed it again!

7.22.10

auger red.
pot of black.
woad in abundance.
stain me now. cover me. let my body be the book of the law.
may my flesh be a holy icon.

my lidded eyes have secrets. my arms show the might of god.
my back his symbols esoteric and terrible.
runes of glory, runes of power, runes of death on my chest, my ribs, my loins.
on my legs, the hope of glory.
i have become the ****. the **** cannot be named.

if you are ready to die, to lay your flesh on the ground, to let your mind be consumed, you may read my body with your fingers. and the burning shall not stop until your madness is consumed.

i shall do with you things more terrible than you can imagine, my eyes alone pierce and cut to your heart. i pierce bone and sinew. the merest touch of my finger would slay the greatest demon inside you.

that is enough.

only those who need me not may lie with me. and then why? for my union is the union with all things.

beware, as your eyes will spin, the world a void, the stars brighter than suns, the darkness welcome.

do you not yet see? I am the hunter of men. you shall die, your blood nurturing the virgin grass. and from your corpse, from your corpse, from your corpse i say, shall come a new heaven and a new earth.

7.21.10

"Condemned to Freedom." Read Hoeller's quite excellent essay (not without its flaws, I'll put in) on sexuality. I particularly love his reference to the British quip: “Do what you wish, but don’t do it in the road and frighten the horses.”

7.20.10

And there shall be no other.

And you shall see well with only darkness to light your path.

The light of others shall blind you. And so you don the holy vestments that I provide, vestments that cover your head, and eyes, and body pure.

And you shall walk, walk with faith beyond faith. For you know nothing of any world other than the ground beneath your feet; yet, you walk confidently, like a field-marshall across his battlefield, like a wizard to meet the opposing army, like a priest of the holy fire confronting evil.

There shall be no foe that shall daunt you.

For you are bereft of fear, abandoned by pain, ignored by death. You know only your purpose, sealed and tattooed and branded and scarred into your flesh. Your flesh so holy and white, so pure and fragrant--it is as iron upon iron, steel over steel, ivory new over fire.

Walk uprightly! Your every stride is a conquering. Your every heart-beat is of a victorious tyrant over lands long lusted-for.

Arise! Be taken up into the highest heaven! For you are a prophet who in every moment has fulfilled his calling. Each prickle of a hair against your skin is greater than the collision of worlds.

Praise! Glory! Exaltation! This life, this life is only for those who can accept much pleasure, laugh at tears and smile at pains, wounds to the bone are as flies at soup.

Your will is unbearable, unbreakable. For if it were to break, the world would collapse in ash and putrefaction. The sun would sink into nothingness and the cosmos dissolve. You are the backbone of the ages. The superstructure of all things. Fear! Loathing! Unbearable Light!

And they wonder why we cover ourselves in prayer.

Oh God! O Will! O Love! O my soul! Care for the souls near us. Let them not die in ashes, but let our grace protect them from us. So that we may love also and destroy only that which is not Us, not You, not Holy.

And the burdens, crushing, of immortal power and flame and smoke crush us down to death, yet we find the smallest of crevices in which to yet breathe, command, act. We live to live; breathe to breathe, we eat to eat. And in our hands, powers unnameable.

7.20.10

I've had fun with my other (professional) blog today. take a visit----it's all about "ruthlessness". I think we as mystics/gnostics/nonconforming participants in this great process of universal theosis, will find the below song and video extremely satisfying, ironic, and thought-provoking. Take a look. Afterwards, if you are interested, you can visit my other site (it's all about professional development, etc.) here.

The Calling - Wherever You Will Go (Official Music Video). Watch more top selected videos about: The Calling

7.17.10

i have one physical challenge that occasionally is not ameliorated by medication. today is one of those days. makes every movement, every breath, every thought and action close to unbearable. the only relief is my holy work. so i'm looking forward to my afternoon quiet time. alot.

peace to all those who deal with pain of whatever sort every day---i am so thankful that i experience my disability only once a month or less. (well, that's with the perspective, somewhat suspect, that my 'normal' functioning is, well, 'normal'). ;-)

blessings,
p

A Diversion---The (Inverted) Theology of the LOTR

OK. Am I the ONLY one to notice that maybe, JUST MAYBE, JRR Tolkien was either anti-gnostic (unconsciously) or PURPOSELY made the conflict in the LOTR ambiguous--so ambiguous that perhaps we are intended to think about the story THE OTHER WAY AROUND???!!!

I mean, the symbol of the oneness of a ring seems holy enough; and it certainly seems that dwarves and elves have been in rebellion against their ring-giver (liege) (Sauron). And it also seems clear that the great kings who were given their nine rings have immortal life. Why is this picture starting to look all 'slanty'? Have we noticed that the world of men has DIMINISHED since Sauron was rejected and allegedly defeated? Why have they not REPOPULATED in 3 thousand years? Come on. It doesn't take that long. Orcs are derisively called hideous and weak and wrecked elves: but what else WOULD you call elves who made the OTHER decision; the decision to stay loyal to the POWER in Middle-Earth? And besides, there is no question that the elves are navel-gazing quitters. They care little (if anything) for any other life form and at any rate are taking their leave of the Earth for no apparent reason other than their own whim. If Sauron is SO EVIL, why not stay and fight? Also, any possible CONNECTION with Sauron (the palantiri) is considered to drive men mad or evil. Hmm. It all very much smacks of 'he who wins the battle writes the history'. And the story, if one is a little creative, could be written entirely from another perspective (a la "Wicked" vs. "The Wizard of Oz."

For example, is it not true that Sauron's kingdom, while employing physical creatures, is one "not of this earth"? Is it not true that wearing the ONE RING gives the wearer the ability to see another realm--a spiritual realm that becomes more and more real while the physical reality becomes more and more dim and shadowy? Doesn't this sound just like what the mystical / gnostic life is like?

I won't belabor it, but I get the feeling that this book is all wrong, and perhaps intentionally so: just like the Rabbis of old telling the people NOT to read or think about certain passages--only for their own good (that is, for the stupid and lazy) and only to challenge the worthy (to break their injunction and find the sweet, hidden truths within Torah).

Just a thought.

That, and I think Balrogs are really, really cool. How could something so cool be evil? After all, who disturbed WHOSE dwelling? Who trespassed against WHOSE dominion?

And I can't help but put in the parting shot about the Rohirrim---whose land was STOLEN from the native inhabitants and given to them by a more powerful king (Gondor), and nurtured a 1000 year enmity. What does THAT sound like, eh?

Just riffing . . . . .

7.16.10

my heart fills my entire chest. my throat always constricted.
my eyes always closed, even if open.
there are no words for *it*. all things and all knowledge melt away.
i sit for hours, just being ONE.

but when i act, it is the right action.
if i move my finger, it is to curse or bless.
if i move my eye, it is to SEE.
if i walk . . . if i walk . . . i cannot say it.

as i sit, i am all in all.

i am a nothing, of course. i am the almighty--
how is it that others can look upon me an live?
i can barely look upon myself without shuddering and trembling in holy fear.

for my skin like molten alabaster
my hair, deadly darts.
my eyes, piercing like daggers
my hands, always holding power.

do you see now?

i long to share this existence, but even the words of others in agreement fade, they are faint, i can hardly hear. so faint and dim is all the bright, springlike world.

how alive to me is the pungent, smokey, deathly fire and dark kingdom of my twin.
how piercing and clear the air like shards of glass and unassailable pillars of crystal is the skyward realm of my triplet.

and how base, quaint, faded and tattered is the world of my flesh--except for my own flesh, which shines, glorious.

do you see now?

7.13.10

why, o lord, are you so tender, so gentle?
why is your love, though i wish it to be like a father of old,
why is it softer than a mother's breast,
lighter than sweetest air,
more caring and more wise than the best of benevolent cunning men?
why o lord do you not chastise me? for this i could understand.

but thy mercies, thy mercies are water on parched lips.
thy locks like silk and honey.
thy body safe, strong, a mountain.

such a companion one could never in a 1000 years have found.
yet you have found me. i worship your footprints.
and yet you pick me up, wipe my face and say only, 'follow, sweet one!'

7.12.10

this darkness that is light
it makes all 'knowledge' and 'reason' worse than rags,
more filthy than excrement,
more deadly than poison.

it is only the sweetness of the sublime union
that will satisfy the truly decadent . . . . .

it is pleasure untold,
pain exquisite,
immolation pure,
fullness like fire inside of fire--
a conflagration insatiable and inextinguishable.

o holy divine! you give and give and give again.
and i, now nearly nothing, no longer receive
but am given.

let me be the bread crushed! CRUSHED!
the wine drunk! CONSUMED!

o god. we span the stars and ant hills together.
we shoot holy beams of death and life, our fingers one.
my body your helpless avatar.
my mind your boisterous laugh.
my pains your idle moments.
my joys your wounds.
my death your food.

o god. life is too sweet for me. like cakes and wines ambrosial.
o god. living is too much pain, like heaviness that pulls apart the limbs.
o god. breathing is like Sisyphus and rock. to leave this glorious temple of flesh,
i would gladly bare all and flee into the desert in glorious nakedness.

but as yet, your kindliness has one bound: i must live out my long days double-sighted.
no freedom from your tiny creation do i have as yet.
but i am content.

for i am thou. and you hold my hand, sweetly. and i rest my head against thy breast so sure, trusting in your gaze upon eternity. and i sleep, yes I sleep. and on some nights, so banish the demons from my mind, and i rest in thy lap.

7.12.10

May I ask a simple question? Why is it that we cover and are ashamed of, and ban from public view, representations of the male and female genitalia? Are they not the creations of god? Are they not power symbols of the power of god and the way god intended most creature kingdoms of this world to procreate? Why is procreation surrounded by silly euphemisms and secrecy in so many cultures? This I truly do not understand. Perhaps if we were more comfortable with the fact that we are all naked before god and willing to allow representations of his glorious creations, all of them, in their amazing beauty to surround us, just maybe we could unbury subconscious fears, and reveal them as beautiful and good and pure impulses, and directed toward good and pure actions.

Of course, it didn't quite work out that way in the ancient Greek and Roman worlds--they certainly had their share of bloodshed and internal evils to boot. But it just seems so much more natural for us to embrace these emblems of the overwhelming power of god to penetrate and receive. To create. It seems sad that our 'vision' of the human body is cut up into 'acceptable' and 'unacceptable'. Well, at least it gives those of us who aren't 'model worth' a chance to cover up. But perhaps therein is the worst of it. We just bodies by a certain standard. We can't get away from our nascent and intransigent and incipient worship of the human body; and so by covering up the majority of us, other than the "Abercrombie and Fitch"-worthy, we cease to understand that all human bodies are temples of the divine. All. All. All.

Well. I'm kicking against the goads on this one, I know. It's just sad. But there are far sadder things, I know.

7.12.10

this photo reminds me of my more mundane moments in prayer . . . :-) in this form, I'm still somewhat corporeal. I haven't yet allowed myself to be utterly lost in the astral world, but eventually that will happen. Yet, in my heart, i know that even if I'm 100% "in", that cord will never leave me, until that glorious day when the divine slays me and brings me into his fold of fire and wonder. Perhaps, perhaps, as a guru once said, i'll be aware enough at the moment of my Terran 'death' to rush not headlong into the physical again, but to wait to see if i am ushered into the heavenly courts of eternity, or, if i must return, to return to a body destined for THE CHARISM. You know of what i speak . . . .