one budding diminutive why staring at the sky in that beautiful youthful wonderment of innocence beyond piggish power and far from cultivated fear so beyond the grip of authority beyond stuffy temples and stale priests and gurus beyond tests and drunken parties
sweet sky staring further than thought’s weary boredom and so far away from cold shoulds and musts
alive whole and unprogrammed
also looking down of course at tiny grasshoppers and katydids
I’ve read statements by people, in blogs and elsewhere, where they say, for example, “I meditate for 20 minutes a day.”
Meditation cannot be practiced. It is a quietude of the mind that is not made by some projected image of a central controller. There is no central controller, or “I,” or “me” that can cause meditation. Meditation is not a mere sequential effect or event (in time) brought about by some predetermined cause (i.e., by some form of causality). True meditation is timeless and is not what can occur by any methodology in (and “as”) psychological time. If you think that you are causing so-called meditation to happen for a specified period of time (each day or whatever), it is — unfortunately — a form of glorified self-hypnosis.
Real meditation is not even what one can “know” is happening. It is beyond the field of the known. One can neither practice it nor know that it is happening… and that is its beauty. But most people are so addicted to their need to categorize and “know” things that they feel frightened or insecure with not existing (mentally) as the known. They perpetually cling to the apron-strings of the known. They have to know that they are meditating or know that they are practicing meditation… all of which are not real meditation whatsoever.
Or they say such things as, “Well I am working on perfecting my meditation,”… or “I am practicing my meditation more and more each day.” Who (or what) is this so-called “I” that is supposedly doing such things? Really, if we are at all honest, it is a protrusion of thought (i.e., an image created by thought) that takes credit for being a central controller or central (mental) orchestrator, of which it is (in actuality) neither. Most people — plain and simply — are afraid to transcend the false sense of security that the primitive notion of a central “I” projects as. However, a false (fabricated) central “I” that thinks it is meditating is neither meditating, nor an actuality, nor truly central. (Past blogs that one has written explain this more; read them if confusion exists at this point.)
Real meditation may occur when the mind, without effort, is aware beyond superficiality. That means that it is not merely attached to the field of the known. The known is always limited; it is grossly circumscribed. Wisdom is meditation, a non-concocted quietness, which may happen throughout the day without deliberate intent. Then, perhaps, what is eternal, sacred, unlimited, and beyond words may enter. But it does not enter if false notions, false practices, and false images are perpetually clung to.
Real meditation can be a blossoming of the mind. But if you (metaphorically) cling to fake, fabricated flowers all of your life, nothing profound will happen.
Don’t be a torpid, sluggish mind, indifferent about the environment, about others, and about goodness. We’ve been donating a lot, over the years, to all of the Hurricane victims (both to charities for humans and for dogs), including (recently) Dorian. These hurricanes are worsening over the years due to global warming. I see some bloggers who claim to love nature, yet they travel — in jets and planes that spew out tons of pollutants — to distant countries or far distant places to get “great nature photos.” I’ve been unfollowing such hypocritical behavior blogs. I’m not afraid of devils or goblins around Halloween. I’m more concerned about people who treat the earth wrongly, indifferently. We all can do more to help nature; we all could do less harmful things. Please watch the following Greta Thunberg video. I feel very sorry for kids these days; if things do not change, they — because of the increase in carbon dioxide — will not be able to breathe properly in a few short decades. 30% of all birds in North America (alone) have gone extinct in the last 50 years; they are the canaries in the coal mine, but most adults just don’t see it enough.
Fourteen steps climbed to the top from the bottom An hour and fifteen minutes moved a short hand and a long hand One fishing line ignorantly reeled in what it thought it wasn’t Three opinions typed what was surely right Seven sayings scanned the screen in a zigzag fashion Thirty-seven pieces of candy looked forward to Halloween Twenty-five Black-Eyed Susans were arrested for trespassing
It takes a lot of hard work to keep the colony healthy and thriving but i realize that the colony and i are one. We are each other. What each of us does is done for all. (Unlike those ruthless, competitive, bipedal apes, we are 100% cooperative and act for all.)
So here i am, hauling another large bounty of meat for the colony to feast upon. Maybe now i will finally get the recognition that i deserve. Maybe now i will be the great worker-ant that all of the other ants will aspire to be like.
But first, i must get this great bounty to the anthill. While they are feasting, they will be thinking of me. Oh lucky me for finding this treasure of voluminous, wonderful meat!
P.S. — Don’t cringe! (I know that you bipedal apes are watching… and judging.) You bipedal apes eat hairy cattle and pigs and unquestioningly think and feel that it isn’t gross in the least. So don’t judge!
There is a vast, timeless sacredness that is beyond the illusory patterns of the world. It did not create this world and it rarely manifests itself to those in it. (The creation of the world or universe by a separate, calculating deity is a rather barbaric conceptualization inherited from our ancient forebearers.) This sacredness is ineffable; it is beyond words and the representation of words. (Most all words are symbols and are merely representations.) It is beyond the framework of time. All sequential patterns of words (and mental images) are time. What is merely caught in time cannot touch or approach the timeless. There is an innocence, a wholeness of mind, beyond thought/thinking, that can be open to a visitation of this timelessness, (and that can also involve insights that may be reflections from such timelessness). Theories and beliefs have nothing to do with it.
It can only visit you; you cannot visit (or approach it). The “you” (i.e., that learned image of a “central me”), anyway, cannot merely exist as the illusion that it is (for a likely communion with that timelessness to take place). Mankind, for the most part, being caught in rather vapid sequential symbols of thought/thinking, tends to go on suffering, go on in limitation and time.