Monday, February 2, 2009


Something unfolds between birth and death which includes birth and death.

Something much larger than the life of a person, place or thing speaks through these perspectives, communicating with itself in a spontaneous way. It is subextra--underneath and beyond what we are, as well as fully being what we perceive we are. I have felt this all my life.

The best dwelling-place, for me, is in-between, on the threshold of all liminality. Yes, this identifies me as a permanent nomad, persistently unlabeled, not gaining or losing. But the view! The view is incredible. There was a time when I felt forced into being here, like some kind of underpaid gatekeeper; now I understand that I am a gate, a keeper and destroyer, a source and destination. Freedom lies in seeing the many roles, playing them consciously while dreaming out a life.

So I make art, write, and do lots of ordinary household labor. I love many people, and have been lured, swept and sometimes bludgeoned into a passionate affair with being. I cannot escape or deny this fact; I can no longer pretend to be a victim of circumstance or a suffering creature, because even when pain happens, it comes with a secret kind of joy, and one more key to healing.

Currently, there is a tremendous amount of upheaval going on in the world, and thus in the lives of almost everyone I know. It looks and feels very much like a terrible crisis on many levels, and it isn't easy to negotiate without a map. But it's the lack of guidelines and the falling of structure that must happen, at times, when radical rebirth is called for. A new chapter is being written in our collective story, even while some dark goddess is setting fire to the pages in the serious historical tomes of humanity.

(Here, Sweetheart. I have more fire, in case you need any...oh, and water, too!)

This isn't about trying to neutralize dramas, suppress the humor or cook out the rawness of our human experience. Metaphorically speaking (which is what speaking is all about), I hold an outpost in nondual territory. But I can't use this understanding to deny the appearance of the full range and tone of emotion, of thinking, of being in a multidimensional way. I know that I am silent space for everything and anything, which means I'm both. I don't just know in my head--I know in my body, my senses, and in the bigger senses of this world. Sometimes, not being too fascinated with opinions that suddenly manifest keeps me fluent in underground languages which are rich in beauty, resonant in tone. But opinions happen, like waves, and crash into incredibly detailed patterns on the beach. None of them are voided or unworthy. Not one is more correct than the other, to an ocean.

The end of a crisis is built into the crisis itself; the crest of a mountain begins in the valley. I'm here to hike, swim, think, and otherwise illumine and connect us in these interesting times. I have no idea what form the muse takes or when she appears; my job is simply to keep gates open and bridges clear.


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