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The Doorway of Contradictions

The Doorway of Contradictions

The impact of a self-contradictory statement can either be meaningless or mind-blowing.
Never both.
Unless it is both.
A poetic self-contradiction can open your eyes in wonderment and wordless insight. You might even laugh. When the limits of square logic are challenged, we find it delightful. Thrilling. Hence, the love of a good joke or poem. It does not make sense, yet it does. Meaningful things that make no sense to our reason gifted mind, resonate within a hidden place, quickening our heartbeat, stopping us in our tracks and bringing laughter to bobble up or tears of relief to our eyes.
Someone said: “When you hear a self-contradictory statement, agree with it.”

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Trust is the lubricant. Doubt is the brake.

Trust is the lubricant. Doubt is the brake.

We know this road, we have walked it forever, but we have lost our trust—and by that, our wisdom. We have forgotten who we are. We think we must let go of the hand of grace and take control ourselves. We forget that helping hand. We think we become the lonely spot of the ego. We live in solitude. We live in pain. We know deep down that our source is peace and oneness. This unbearable contrast drives us to despair. We begin to look for a fix for this pain. Just a short relief. We find something that gives a temporary joy. A temporary fix.

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Who do you think I am?

Who do you think I am?

Who do you think I am?
I am the iciness inhabiting winter winds beating against your door
I am the heat sitting still in the dancing flames of your sacred fire
I live inside the resonance of large brass bells you ring to appease the gods
I am the timid hint of fragile pink in a white rose petal you place at my altar
I am the deep inkiness standing vigil behind the violet of your flowing ceremonial garb

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Are We Confused About Confusion Itself?

Are We Confused About Confusion Itself?

Mankind is forever asking: “Am I doing the right thing?” Even in dreams he seeks and analyses, ever trying to ascertain the right course of action.
It is not the world that is confusing, and you are not actually confused. You are actually seeing truth. You call it confusion because you expect reality to be different from what it is. You expect the distorting human perception to become clear. Though, by dropping the conditioned mind you naturally come into the state of knowing, you come into harmony with the experience of knowing that clarity is indeed permeating the swirling world of unpredictable phenomena. That clarity is your observing consciousness.

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Where Did The Ego Come From?

Where Did The Ego Come From?

Where did the ego come from?
Does the world manifest material complexity outwards, resulting in subtler layers of existence? Does it start from insentient matter which then becomes biological life that develops into sophisticated beings with specific senses, ego and finally this consciousness now reading these words while thinking I am reading? This sequence of unfolding is what we are told is true. But have you investigated it?

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Everything is Alive, Are You?

Everything is Alive, Are You?

Are you Alive?
Are you alive? You would probably reply: Yes I am.
Are you conscious? Since you are reading this you are most likely not in a coma and so you would say: Yes I am conscious”
Who is this “I” you refer to? Do you point to yourself?
Is your body conscious?
Is all of it conscious, or only parts of it? Your left big toe? No?
Is your brain conscious? Is the fat lining the nerves conscious?

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