Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Moaning about shackles?

When Oneness is making itself felt within a human story,  
it is often in the guise of a calamity:
an accident,  
a severe disease, 
the loss of a dear one,
depressions which sends us into the pitts,
being laid off work.

And all this coming out of nowhere.
Appearing suddenly.
Ripping apart the well manicured borders
of our existence.

Suddenly confronted with the unknown,
the emptiness,
the depth of the abyss.
And the agonizing knowledge that nothing in
our education, upbringing,  in fact nothing
in our lives has prepared us for this.

Where to turn,
how to manage, control 
this onslaught of debilitating 
and terrifying energies and

Emptiness, This aware and intelligent presence
shakes itself just a bit to free itself of some of 
the shackles which have covered up its existence.
As on a chess board, eliminate a few of the
personas we have identified with over the years;
the able bodied provider,
the worker,
the good house wife,
in order to make room 
for recognition to take place.

And yes this might feel painful and hurting
in the beginning,  like loosing a skin,
and having to confront life in a vulnrable
and raw manner.

But heeyy why not look around in this unfamiliar space. 
Look emptiness right in the face. 
And we might find that suddenly we 
are at home just then and there.

Who will moan about the shackles 
leaving them behind, when 
stepping through the prison door
to freedom??.


Monday, June 16, 2014

A clear view

This message can never be understood with words.

It is not an intellectual grasping.

It is in fact the end 
of all grasping
of all wanting to get
of wanting to understand 

The end of trying 
to reach something
some place
some state

And it is the end of the feeling that
something is wrong
or missing
or of lack
of something out of place

It is arriving home.
A place we lost sight of
looking for something else.

The search and the grasping,
the looking for completion and fulfillment
are inherent to being identified with the contracted energy
we have mistakenly called me.

The place we never left is the true sense of I
which shines already through the stories which
thoughts and emotions are spinning.

This place which is a placeless place, home,  
is our felt sense of who we are.

And on top of this open emptiness has accumulated
over the years layer after layer of labels, conditioning
ideas, beliefs which because we give them credence, 
have condensed into an energetic construction.

A clear view will reveal this erroneous assumption
We are ever only Oneness looking for Itself

Sunday, June 8, 2014


Freedom loves to share Itself

Loves to tumble and play
Soar and dive
a whirling dance of ecstasy

Knocking down limitations
you and me
on the way

Whispers and calls
Grinds down
and smashes
all that is
holding back

No means too low
no measure too mean

All and everything
is food for its
insatiable hunger

It wants all for Itself

Freedom loves to play with Itself

An orgasmic dance of hide and seek

Monday, June 2, 2014

finding its way through the cracks...

Heeyy you daring one,
Do you feel the urge to step out of the prison?

Questioning Life?

What is the purpose?  

Who am I ?

Courageous you are doing this, going 

against conditioning, culture, upbringing.

And clear and strong to even 

be able to look at life this way.
After all people around you might 

think you are a little nuts isn't it?
Not understanding this drive and passion.

Where is this daring,  this clarity and strength
coming from? 

Did you fabricate this in your own 

little clarity and strength factory?

Or did you buy it yesterday at the corner shop?

Where does this urge originate?

If this message starts to wear down the vestiges
of the contracted identity,  
and one knows intellectually
that the person as such has no reality,
that the person was and is never real,
it might dawn that the urge
to free oneself is freedom itself
wanting to obliterate all that stands
in the way.

There never was a person looking for freedom.
Freedom is already finding its way
through the cracks.