Learning to ride, falling down, getting back on
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It might be a sin against space or reality to try to concretize things into words. Then again there is this urge to describe the moment. What is this urge? Why is it so?
While I am steaming my body under a hot May sun on a wet May ground, what can i churn out that will tell how i’m trying to become ambidextrous, how nothing fades into purple time lapses, how the wind sets me off in every direction? Who has the right — what right have i to even try to understand these things, much less to score them on the brackets which is this page?
Did the medieval monks and nuns remember what it was all about? Or did dualism eat them up, too, and have them weighing sin against vice and themselves against the laity? The old chants — repetitious and yet enigmatically patterned — was it the run on continuum in musical form? You could almost make a case for it.
And what is so put-down-able about arbitrary value assignments? We may as well be truthful; we all do it, assign values arbitrarily. My bare ass to the sun — “Lot of nerve she’s got” — that’s ok. My problems are getting more public and free. The sun burns their corners and the whole structure gets hot and melts. That’s why I’m out here bare ass to the sun.
Did you know the five-fold Sambhoga-kaya could be symbolized by the sun? I like that. The Dhyani Buddhas looking hot on us, burning away our sins. That’s why I’m out here bare ass to the sun.
But I’m not as tan as i thought. Or cute. Or clever. I saw a picture of myself from relatives and Christmas. Who is that ugly wench i thought. That face there had no identity, although i recognized the shoes.
Lately i’ve suffered the lowest of blows — partial insight. Lowest not because partial, but because at all: It’s not a matter of manufacturing concentration. It’s a matter of realizing the concentration already alive. But that takes practice. Penetration, not concentration. Concentration, not penetration. What’s the difference? A mile of half-shorn breaths, I assure you.
Insight is a blow because it goes to your head. Let this be a lesson to you. By saying that, I know what went before was sure to be erased.