Tag Archives: confession

out here

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Out Here - Chuck Surface
 
 
I like it out here, where no one can see,
Far from any notion of myself.
Here, I am no one, and yet, I Am.
 
 
Out here I am Unclothed.
Can you imagine the Delight,
Leaving that scratchy garment behind?
 
 
Out here no intercessor stands,
Between the arising and the arisen,
Between Heaven and Earth.
 
 
Out here I am far away,
From the raucous din and clamor,
Of the spiritual bazaar.
 
 
“Shhh!” We don’t debate out here,
Where “Truth” is a word,
In a land where no language is spoken.
 
 
Out here I care nothing,
For what others think of what I think,
For I care nothing of what I think.
 
 
Out here thought and feeling arise,
Only thinker and feeler are lost,
And the River Flows, undammed.
 
 
What Rapture, out here,
Where I Exist without existing,
In the Answer to every Prayer ever uttered.
 
 
What a Blessing to discover,
Out here,
In Here.
 
 
– Chuck Surface
 

coming out : ‘fessing up

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sitting, this early autumn dawn…
already the tropical heat steams:
low clouds are resting on the mango tops
and on my head, thick after an airless night

sitting, greeting, bowing to
each whining thought’s futility
in the presence of this
impartial
immensity

this me-matrix,
this emelle-character,
has been tossed too far
off the mainstream GPS
by whatever brought her here
to expect acceptance
by the old herd

sometimes, though, there’s a glance
back, over the shoulder
and a sigh sighs – it wants
the best of both worlds:
understanding and encouragement from the old
friends, the frayed remnant of family
as well as this wild unchoreographed dance
with the unknown

but it’s a no-brainer and anyway
back-tracking isn’t an option

a great sentient silence wraps itself
around this spaciousness
and there’s just this
total fulfillment
smiling, smiling

emelle loves this fail-safe Lover
with her life

 

there:

it’s outed

 

emelle = ml = miriam louisa

an uninvited koan

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Hafiz’s poem – my brilliant image – provides the perfect cue-in for a confession:

It all began with a killer migraine.  My skull felt like a firebomb about to explode; the pain was so intense I wanted it to.  I was retching and nothing would remain in my stomach.  Painkillers weren’t an option.  It was simply more than I could bear, and to my surprise (since I usually suffer in silence) I heard myself screaming, “Finish me off! I can’t stand it!”

It was instantaneous.  Behind my closed eyelids a shimmer of white light washed over the blackness.  Soft milky light – very different from the lights often associated with migraines.

The light brought instant calm, blissful relief from the panic.  The pain was still there but in some inexplicable way it simply wasn’t a problem.

But then these words were somehow ‘heard’:

 AND THIS LIGHT DOES KNOW ALL OTHER LIGHT AS ITS SHADOW

 

My hair stood on end.  Where did that come from?  What did it mean?

Those words were my koan for almost twenty years.

Those words led inevitably to the knowing of that “Astonishing Light” as my own Beingness.