I watch me appear; I watch me disappear

 

I am never absent, I cannot be escaped
I watch me appear, I watch me disappear

I am unaffected, I have no preference
I watch me appear, I watch me disappear

Forget ‘Big Brother’ and CCTV:
there’s an eye there is no hiding from
and it’s known as “I” to me.

It prowls this world of dream and drama
ceaselessly scoping the cosmos and all creation:
macroscopic, microscopic and myopic too,
the outer worlds and inner…

Eyes wide open, eyes shut tight
I can never escape its unlit light.

I am unmoved, I am all movement
I watch me appear, I watch me disappear

I am never absent, I cannot be escaped
I watch me appear, I watch me disappear

– miriam louisa

I watch me appear; I watch me disappear
 

Beloved Gangaji writes:

At a certain point, a couple of years after [the disappearance of the ‘me’ as separate entity], I was aware of a sense of myself as a person starting to slowly return.  And I thought, “Oh, no, what does this mean?” because at that point I had been counseling people not to reconstruct themselves after this kind of experience.  There was a moment of wondering if this sense of myself meant I had lost anything, but by then I knew enough to check and see.  When I did, I saw clearly that the truth that needs no scaffolding was not bothered by any sense or perception of myself as being this human animal, this body-mind configuration.  Silent conscious awareness was not bothered by any disappearance of the sense of this form and not bothered by its reappearance.

The fact that the sense of me as form reappeared was actually a teaching for me because it threw me into profound inquiry.  And in that inquiry I saw that this sense of being a separate entity appears and disappears all the time, even in a day—for everyone.  It’s just that until we have an experience of it disappearing, and then discovering the true “I” to still be present, only then do we have the possibility of recognizing that the disappearance or the reappearance doesn’t really touch the unmoving truth.

It was at this point I felt myself reincarnating as an ordinary human being.  I didn’t fight the ordinariness coming back, because I was always aware that whatever came back—an emotion, a sense of me, a negative thought, etc.—it didn’t touch what had been revealed…

To this day, I can say that from that moment there has been no lack of resolution and fulfillment.  There have been negative states as well as positive.  There has been grief as well as joy.  There have been trials and there have been defeats, but nothing has dislodged the certainty that who I am includes all.

© Gangaji, 2012
[My emphasis.]
Source:  http://www.onethemagazine.com/blog/2012/10/12/answer-to-a-prayer/

Image source:  Rumi on facebook

a little prayer for the solstice

For most readers of this little blog, it’s the summer solstice that will be celebrated today.  But for those of us in the lands south of the Equator, today is the shortest day, the darkest day of the year.  It is winter.  And here on my misty mountain it is raining and chilly – a perfect day for a prayer to the Unlit Light – the Beloved known by a thousand names – the One that never fails to listen and to love.  It’s a deeply personal prayer – and yet, I know it is shared by you and you and you, no matter what your gender may be.

 

Bill Viola - Catherine's Room

 

may I be a mother
to the motherless

 

may I comfort them

may I give them shelter

may I foster their creativity

may I assure them they are loved

may I re-mind them of their brilliant life-fire

 

may I be shown the way

 

may I be a Mother Miriam

as was she who allowed me life:
Miriam ma

aymen

~

 


Image: Bill Viola – Catherine’s Room

Yes – you’ve seen this image here before – it’s one of my favorites:
today I light candles

 

a light with no source

this unlit light blog is four years old this week!

 

this unlit light is four!

 

Back in 2009, I wrote on the who and why? page:

what is this?

so blatantly in my face
yet unable to be seen?

closer than my breath
yet unable to be reached?

shining through the mind
yet unable to be known?

And in my very first post – a naked lie – I made a confession about the only thing I can assert to be real and true in my life:

I know lots of stories about all manner of things, and I acknowledge that they are only the current version of complex commentaries.  But I only know one thing for sure, and it’s not an ‘about’.

It’s this:  Something exists here on this cushion.  Something is alive here.  Something is being breathed here.  Something senses Life here.  I refer to it as ‘I’, but I cannot claim possession of it.  It is just this.  Now.  Here.

This is what I can call real and true.  It passes my test.  It has never changed one iota in this lengthening lifetime.  It can’t be fragmented, measured, observed, described or denied.  All that I call ‘existence’ appears within it, and cannot be separated from it.  There are no words about it that are true.  So I will tell a naked lie, and call it this unlit light.

In the about page my intentions for the blog were set out – and have remained unaltered:

This blog presents a mélange of comments and confessions concerning this unlit lightbrighter than the light of a thousand suns – in which, right now, perception of this web page and deciphering of these words is going on.

The luminous mélange has included references by saints and sages, poets and mystics, teachers and everyday holders of wisdom – all expressing in their own unique voice, their understanding of, and love for this divine light | pristine awareness | mystical luminosity.

I seldom add any comments to these gems.  It seems superfluous – they shine with radiant clarity when falling from the pockets of the wideawake.  Today’s offering comes from Osho.

In haste nobody can come to know himself.  It is a very, very deep awaiting.  Infinite patience is needed.  By and by darkness disappears.  There comes a light with no source.  There is no flame in it, no lamp is burning, no sun is there.  A light, just like it is morning: the night has disappeared, and the sun has not risen….  Or in the evening – the twilight, when the sun has set and night has not yet descended.  That’s why Hindus call their prayer time sandhya.  Sandhya means twilight, light without any source.

When you move inwards you will come to the light without any source.  In that light, for the first time you start understanding yourself, who you are, because you are that light.  You are that twilight, that sandhya, that pure clarity, that perception, where the observer and the observed disappear, and only the light remains.

~ Osho

Just Like That – Copyright© OSHO International Foundation


Source – sat sangha salon – a rich resource, well worth a visit.

Image source – google images


I’m grateful to Nadia at her blog To Know Beauty for introducing me to this extract from Osho.

the eye-kissing light

Photograph by Alan Larus

~

Light, my light, the world-filling light,
the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life;
the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;
the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.
Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling,
and it scatters gems in profusion.

Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.
The heaven’s river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.

Gitanjali – The Offering Songs
~ Rabindranath Tagore

Photograph by Alan Larus

I’m out of my mind

Rainforest Hermitage

 

there I was
in the grip of
grimness
in the midst
of this glorious
rainforest

self-loathing had its
garrote
around my throat
and depression urged it
to finish the job

the cackling clockwork chorus
was in full voice:
homeless, hopeless!
alone, undeserving!
penniless, shameful!
exhausted, wimp!
confused, idiot!
repeat
repeat

 

repeat

 

then suddenly, a shift,

– subtle yet seismic –

and I’m out of my mind
and absorbed into a bright beingness
that needs no healing
because it knows no
brokenness

the clamor dies down
consciousness folds itself
back into its contents

the light
that’s never needed a housekeeper
beams itself up as a
world
that falls to its mossy knees
and scribbles a poem


birthday poem 2013

this free-falling foolishness

Black Hole

apropos of nothing
and completely uninvited
You came
and offered Your card

a most unusual calling card, thought
I, curious, attracted to its shimmer
like a magpie
to a bright thing

I reached, I grabbed, I looked
into its mirror sheen and that’s when
the piece called “me” popped
out of the jigsaw puzzle

lost its grip, back-flipped
(most unladylike: toes over head)
floated down a yawning wombhole:
dark light, dark light

and the little blip that’s broadcast
by beings – the one that positions a mebody
in time and space – became fainter and fainter and
finally faded out

leaving just this free-falling foolishness,
this cascading chortling laughter;
this trackless trace
of The Great Fool

~

image source

~

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this awareness is not aware that it is aware

To say that “awareness is aware of itself”
is to split it into two:
one bit as the viewer
and the other as the view.

But is this really so?
(Not according to any teaching
or dogma or philosophy; no,
save me from second-hand ‘truths’!)
What’s the experience right here,
beyond the cunning concepts
that inevitably appear?

Awareness awares.
That’s all that I can say;
its ceaseless unlit light
both creates and acts its play.

Even emptiness is empty
and mind a four-letter word;
my gut rips wide open
as I fall on my sword.

Just this! I cry –

yet instantly it’s clear
that thusness is a step too far
from the lucid living light
that’s plainly shining

h e r e

[~ ml – emmelle – on exiting retreat]