"It is the most important function of art and science to awaken this [cosmic religious] feeling and keep it alive in those who are capable of it."
- Albert Einstein, The World As I See It
Latest developments. As Autumn creeps into a crisp post Summer swoon, the leaves of my mind are colored with an array of emotions. I feel into my personal cocoon of daunting change and witness a battle between 'struggle' and 'surrender' playing out in the heart-space gymnasium. Metamorphosis-moments are always painful, but it's the kind of pain that liberates - a yogic pain pushing one beyond physical limitations; a Tao pain revealing life paradoxes that release the grasping mind; an Autumnal pain whose often icy bite also brings the magic of color and transformed geometry.
I embrace this pain as a witness to my own cocoon ordeal. I see the yellows of ego-"I" crunch beneath my feet on the London sidewalk. The reds of fiery purification consume my attention. The oranges of holy chaos possess my crown. The browns of attachment and aversion eats at my gut. The ochres of passion squirm in my loins. The mauves of delusion stare at me from every bill board professing product-salvation. The fading greens of passing youth...I smile inwardly because I know, deep down in the depths of my...erm...consciousness, that it's in the midst of Autumnal alchemy that the lead of bullshit life patterns and reactions transmute into the gold of transformed tendencies and greater equanimity. Yep! It is only through yielding to the always-opportunity for seasonal change that real growth can be achieved. And real growth always awards an improved happiness.
Happiness, a fragile branch on the sturdy trunk of life, is the inevitable fruit-bearer for all who transcend (apparently) negative life concerns. The more one participates in the 'going beyond', the swifter one is armed to combat 'tricky stuff' that might ordinarily be perceived as hardcore hellishness or insurmountable life turmoil...hmmm...I feel like climbing a tree and tasting the scent of an orange.
So how goes the leaves of your mind?- Are they grasping to branches of (deemed) 'security' and 'safe' choices or do they let go, fall away, and prostrate at the feet of the Great Tree? Are we allowing the Master Giver of Wise-dom to release us from the bondage of presumed separation or do we slave to stay green in this strange and uncomfortable mortal illusion? Do we have the determination to walk the path of the warrior? Can we happily consent to changing colors and shifting shapes - the stripping away of old habits, the almighty fall through and beyond the well of our own created fears, the holy jumping off place...Can we truly fall awake in love, deeper and deeper, until we are Autumn-kissed leaves decorating the ground at the Master's lotus feet? Will we surrender to such sweet Grace?
Such questions are posed in the cocoon of my heart...And as potential butterfly wings wrestle with the pain of the clinging caterpillar - its tight grip on an assumed self-identity strangles the emerging flight vessel - the m-fields governing all of space-time's holographic intercourse shudder...to deny such flight, to ignore the beauty of ego-renunciation, to shun the prowess of butterfly expansiveness IS... madness!
There is a saying in Tibetan Buddhism - "What is like a smelly fart that, although invisible, is obvious?...Ones faults, that are precisely as obvious as the effort made to hide them."
In my cocoon of heart-wounding-insight, there is a G3 saying, rather more obvious than a Zen koan, but less crude than a Viz annual - "What is moist like a panty hamster that, although occasionally whiffsome, provides unimaginable bliss to all parties? -
...The Great Mystery, whose daunting Unknown is, in fact, Unqualified Ecstasy when suckled, nibbled, tasted, fondled, teased, tickled and f***ed senseless."
...Hmmmm? If any of you reading this feel that you're presently enduring a skin shedding, life changing, re-evaluating, ego-confronting, pattern distorting, cocoon-inhabiting, bout of POSITIVE disillusionment...remember that WE ARE, without a shadow of a doubt and a sneeze of discomfort, in fact - the butterfly, the fart and the panty hamster. Ya Dig it? ... Big up respect to the hardcore massive who jail break out of their cocoon of fears and have the guts to fly through The Great Mystery's theatrical, and very beefy, curtains...
GOD BLESS!
© G3 September 2000
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