But I’ve also been thinking about meditation. Specifically, I’ve been pondering the fact that we serious meditators share a secret. It’s one that we may be loath to let the world in on. That secret is the pleasure—yes, I mean the bona fide, juicy, luxurious, full-out decadence—of withdrawing from the world, albeit for relatively brief periods at a time.
"The creation pour[s] out of you like you channeled an elder god...Sometimes you are the conduit through which it comes and other times you drag it the fuck out of yourself."
It would seem we live in a world that lives for the future, in a constant state of becoming, rather than what really matters, being.
Reading about spiritual realisations is like reading a brochure for Disney Land.
...Find a good spot , lay my body to the earth to remind myself why I have nothing to feel bored about
We go to learn our necessary lessons, far and wide
How can I explain what I know?
I push meditation like a high level crack dealer.
My silly heart that doesn’t have a clue That flops and gasps in fear and an excess of abundance that it confuses with a dearth… My silly heart… I look around and Some of me knows that every smidgen of this gaudy Universe is mine is me is in my Concentric spreading sphere And I... Continue Reading →
