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Aaaaaaanyway...
Kicking and screaming back to the topic at hand, how do my experiences of teh maggycx interlock with my fridge door and the breakfast I skipped this morning...
Way-ull...I have to say I find the dichotomy completely false...Experience, in my world, is just experience, and the notion that anything is compartmentalised and somehow seperate and enshrined from anything else is a nonsense, to me...
I like the buddhist notion that if you take absolutely anything, anything at all, for granted, then you completely lack the appropriate gratitude to your circumstances.
This is probably the single defining result of my exploration into so-called magic (SCM) so far...An overriding, profound and completely consuming sense of very-present gratitude for everything...
This, inevitably in such an environment as the hallowed halls of Barbelith, leads quickly to the notion of : Gratitude to whom or what?
OK : Gratitude, first and foremost, that there is. Because, it seems to me, there so easily could not be. And I like it. For all of its madnes, and fury, and pain and sorrow and heartache and loss and devastation, I really, really like it. It is, for the most part, hugely fun, and funny.
Whatever it is that creates, and there surely is a whole load of stuff, it strikes me that it has a wicked, right on the money sense of humour. I mean, it makes me laugh. Which I like.
So, first and foremost, I'm really fucking glad to be here. I thank my mother and father, and their father and mother, and their father and mother, and their father and mother, and so on, back, back, back, back to....what, exactly? How far does that gratitude extend? If you go far enough back, where do you end up? Answers on a postcard, please. I, personally, am hugely grateful to the archetypal, eternal, ever-present Father-Mother of the Cosmos, without which, there Would. Not. Be. But there is. VIVA!
Next, I am grateful for my lot. For my beautiful, glorious family, my wife and son, who ground me, provide my energy for invention, keep me focused and aware of the Other, engage me with That which is Not Me to the expense of My Desires. Yes, getting married and having children irrevocably moved my focus and attention away from My Bullshit, and onto The Wellbeing of Others. Specific Others, in the first place, but as time wears on, just others generally. A creeping, glowing recognition that Nobody, anywhere, has any time whatsoever to Entertain My Bullshit. And that interest in them, and their concerns, is the natural succession to having food, clothes and a roof over my head.
Gratitude also to this Beautiful Mother Earth. This phenomenal, beautiful, Blue Green Paradise we call home, and which will suffer our abuse and ignorance and still provide, this Ground, my platform, for its Unconditional Suppoprt throughout my life, and all of my lives, ever. This beautiful provider, of all that I hold dear but take so easily for granted in order to make my egoic, slef-centred concerns TEH MOST IMPORTANT THING EVAR!11!!! only to realise I am a blinking passing Dream and my sense of importance and immanence is the desperate clinging to permanence of a brief, passing and non-existant ephemeral expression of chance and re-iterated unfinished business, receiving culture, only, and creating nothing
Gratitude to my teachers, every experience, every moment, every person, place or passing fancy which has ever impresseed upon my memory/mind a lesson I needed to pay attention to, an incident in which I noticed that which I had previously taken, in my arrogance, for a given.
And Gratitude to myself, this marvellous, miraculous organism, for surviving, for negotiating this Ocean of Complexity, and Remaining, Being, Fighting On in the face of the hopelessness, the darkness and the frustration, the madness, the nonsense, the sheer inescapable fucking WHAT!!?!?!?! of the entire gamut of the journey so far. I'm O-Fucking-K, you know? It will be alright. Nothing is wrong. It simply IS.
How does this relate to my everyday life? This is my take on Life. I am Life. Everything that happens, every single thing, is perfect as far as I can see. My attachments and fears, my hopes and dreams, my desire for change, is the product of my imperfection within a perfect system. WHO THE FUCK AM I to question this process EXACTLY AS I FIND IT? The egoic nonsense of the World around me is Nothing I can or desire to Change.
I have no more interest in my own passing, changing flimsy notions of what should and should not be. What is, is. And I recognise its glory, its beauty, its oscillation between 1 and 0, the perfect, present unity of that which I, based on my own attachments and imperfections, divide into this and that, light and dark, good and evil, bad and worse, good and better, here and there, inside and outside, within and without, above and below, him and her, father and mother, right and wrong. My sense of self is the boundary which creates and perpetuates these illusions, and it is inescapable, but it can be understood and it can be silenced. Hence my interest in this forum, because, the One is what I aspire to. My goal is Union.
How does this dovetail into experience of the Everyday?
How does it not dovetail into that experience? What is experience without that knowledge? Nothing, to me. Nothing but killing time, watching TV. I feel involved.
I am a better person by my involvement in these practices. I am freed, or free-er than I was, from the attachment to my own stories. They are just stories. I am accepting of Life in every manifestation, 'good' or 'bad', which requires a 'me' to suit in the middle and adjudicate. i have no time for adjudication, I am busy being (and, as far as possible, avoiding doing). I take this process as it is given to me, for who the FUCK do I think I am to judge it and complain?
I have the sensory illusion of options. I have the sensory illusion of freedom. I know, deeply, that I belong here and here belongs in and with me. And I am endlessly full of love, for this.
My take, my tuppence, my Wider Life. |
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