Cooling Down With The King

A Sign

A Sign

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #MiracleLog #Soul

January 20, 2015 10:07 AM

I woke up at 3am and my mind wouldn’t let me go—once again I’m back in Florida, feeling as if all the weight and responsibility of my parents’ well-being is on my shoulders. I did some quick calculations and realized that over the last seven years, these trips back to Florida have probably cost me three years of my expected life span—critical gas gauge of death dollars lost, not in expenses, but in lost consulting income.

Frustrated with the past and my current situation, I gave up trying to sleep at 6am and wasn’t surprised when I had to wait three minutes for traffic to clear long enough for me to cross the street.

I pulled into a Burger King for some breakfast and inside, I wasn’t surprised when the guy behind the counter didn’t see me and stood there staring at his phone.

I sighed, still angry, and stepped into the bathroom and exited with wet hands because the bathroom was out of paper towels (and no hand dryer).

The guy took my order, got it wrong and just nodded when I told him they were out of paper towels.

I sat down to eat, pulled out my phone to distract myself and couldn’t connect to their WiFi.

Frustrated and angry and wet, I stopped.

I looked up.

A sign on the wall said,

Cool Down With The King

And I saw myself keel over suddenly from a brain aneurism—face planting into my coffee.

And I saw my body roll off the chair and tumble to the floor as I detached and hovered above its lifeless form.

And the anger faded as I took responsibility for my situation: That each time I went back to Florida—each time I told my client I’d have to cut back dramatically on my coding work—I had chosen to do so. I had made the decision. I had made the conscious choice. I could have held off and let my brother take care of all those family emergencies, but I didn’t—I didn’t even give him the chance. I’m responsible for my fate.

The mind—what a pain in my ass.

I looked down at my lifeless ex-body and I shook free of the little game.

I sat there and I looked around and I took a photo of the sign and I realized I’m a walking dead man—that everyone is—and that thought, as morbid as it sounds, somehow released any residual tension.

Then I walked out into the parking lot and gave an impromptu tour of my van to an RV’er from Ohio and he took some photos of my rig and was thankful and grateful and I hopped in the van, and drove to a mechanic, and I asked for an oil change and wheel alignment, and everything flowed smoothly and easily and he gave me twenty bucks off for… I don’t really know what for, but I was grateful.

The less there is of me, the more there is of Her.


End of NonAbusers

End of NonAbusers

MELBOURNE, FL#Journaling #Surrender

January 19, 2015 9:07 AM

I closed a few moments ago due to a lack of public interest. It’s a shame it didn’t take off, but I received a lot from the experience.

It was my attachment to NonAbusers success that instigated the creation of this journal and my current spiritual focus (the surrender of self interest and concern). In the short time I’ve been journaling here—in focusing on these issues—I’ve noticed a dramatic softening of my… center, so I’m grateful for that.

She works in mysterious ways.


Freedom From Self Concern

Old Self

Old Self

MELBOURNE, FL#Soul #Death #Remember #Technique

January 18, 2015 8:16 AM

I read over yesterday’s post and part of me was embarrassed. Not because I don’t believe it, but because some deeply embedded self-image conditioning (whatever that thing is that cares about what others think of us)—some primal archetype—would twitch, “Now you look like some whoo whoo idiot, you idiot.”

But then I saw myself detaching from this body in death and looking down at it and thinking, “Does any of the Wayne-stuff matter to you now? Concern for Wayne? Wayne’s self image? Wayne’s trying or goals or hopes or actions?”

Not. One. Bit.

Eternal me could care less about the Wayne-thing’s imaginary problems.
This simple shift in perspective, from this primal Self archetype (the Wayne-thing) to Eternal me, released the embarrassment and filled me with an expansive and joyful feeling of “I don’t care.”

Not “I don’t care about other people or nature or the world”—not apathy—but a wonderful “I don’t care about this silly Wayne-thing. I don’t care what the damn Wayne-thing feels.” (Damn is the right word, as the Wayne-thing feels like an unwanted burden—like something that steals the freedom and carefree nature of the me-that-lies-behind-all-this.)

The feeling of freedom felt from the deep shift from archetypical self (it’s deeper than the personal self)—from this Wayne-thing to the Eternal me—is almost as profound as stepping through the Gateless Gate. Freedom from self-concern, from self-image, from ambition, from striving, from trying, even from survival. An overwhelming, fear-inspired psychic weight is dropped.

It is the contemplation of death—visualizing your body dying and you-as-a-Soul detaching from it—that frees us from self-concern. It frees us from attachment to all this worldly stuff.

Note 1: This feels quite different—more powerful—than my pre-awakened days of living as a Soul. I don’t know why yet. Maybe it’s because the Wayne-thing no longer grips me like it use to when it was my identity (personal self). Dunno.

Note 2: I don’t think this is a permanent shift, more like a recognition of the archetype of Mortal Self. I fully expect conditioning to pull me back toward it often. Practice, Wayne. Practice, practice, practice.


Once Overlooked. Now Seen.

Once Overlooked. Now Seen.


January 17, 2015 1:16 PM

(Keep in mind this is a personal journal.)

I stumbled upon a little memorial stone in the park this afternoon—a stone that I had never noticed before—and I took it as a sign to say what I’ve been thinking since I began this journal.

A prediction:

90% of the world’s population will be dead in less than 2 years.

I don’t suspect this just because of the Gas Gauge of Death (though given my “luck” it wouldn’t surprise me), I suspect it… well, just because I do.

Obviously I’m not 100% certain of this because then I wouldn’t be writing an ebook. After all, the great Digital Realm as we know it would die out with the rest of technology.

Still, I’ve got this nagging feeling (50-70% odds right now) that this prediction could be true—that She’s as disenchanted with Mankind as I am.

Nor would I be so stupid as to name a specific date for this event to start and/or end (December 7, 2016), but maybe—on the book—I’ll print a hardcopy or two.

(Given people’s odd aversion to Death, I doubt this post will get many “Likes” on Facebook.)


Ulysses + iPad + Keyboard

Ulysses + iPad + Keyboard


January 16, 2015 2:15 PM

Focus. How do you keep the mind focused on what you want, and not what the mind wants? To focus on the Light and not on the distractions?

A lot of fundamental nondualist say the enlightened remain in “abiding nondual awareness” 100% of the time. Are these people saying that once you hit their version of enlightenment that their mind—their focus—magically comes under their complete and absolute control?

I sure would like to see their online journals. I sure would like to see some transparency in their claims.

January 16, 2015 2:25 PM

I’m typing this on my iPad using an external keyboard and Ulysses’ (beta) iPad app. I need to send my laptop in for a new screen (the anti-glare coating is screwed up, making editing photos kind of hit or miss) and I’ve been dreading the possible two week down time, even contemplating buying a new computer and using the old one as a back up. This morning though, I had the brilliant idea of getting an external keyboard for my iPad and seeing if I could survive with that. Since I’m no longer programming, I might be able to get away with this option.

What I think I’ll do is try to survive in iPad-only mode through the weekend, and if I can, then I’ll take the laptop to Best Buy for repairs (there’s no Apple store nearby).

The Great Motivator

Writing In Ulysses

Writing In Ulysses

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #Writing

January 15, 2015 2:28 PM

I wish I could find some practice that would make death real for others. Recognizing you’ll be dead soon is a great motivator.

What if you were 90% certain you’d be dead in two years. What would you do differently?

One of the results of that thought is motivating me to write—I want to get Mystical Oneness done before I die.

So this morning, I worked on the new book, and in doing so, found myself changing the layout of the folders in Ulysses to make it easier to outline, organize and write.

I created three levels of folders/documents:

  • Level 1 (folder) is for the Parts of the book (Part I: What Is Mystical Oneness, Part II: The Eternal Quality, Part III: The Radiant Quality, …)
  • Level 2 (subfolder) is for the Chapters inside the Parts
  • Level 3 (individual documents) is for the Topics inside the Chapters

I’m putting each topic in a separate document (called a sheet in Ulysses). This allows me to easily set a word count goal (around 500 words) per topic and helps to keep things short and sweet since I sometimes tend to run on and on.

Short and sweet not only makes it easier for the reader to digest and understand the topics, but it makes it a hell of a lot easier for me to stay on track and write about them.

Why I Can’t Love Myself

The Rock Coalesces out of the Sea

The Rock Coalesces out of the Sea


MELBOURNE, FL — #Emptiness #FourthWall #MiracleLog

January 14, 2015 12:57 PM

I leaned back in my easy chair, closed my eyes, and sought an analogy: What does the Wayne-thing feel like to me?

And then I had one.

Years ago, before cable and digital signals, television images were sent over the air in analog. If the TV station was too far away, the viewer would only see a screen filled with snow—visual white noise—with only faint human-shaped patterns appearing out of the noise.

Many times, these patterns were so intangible that—though you knew they were images of an actor—you couldn’t tell if they were Ginger or Mary Ann.

That vaguely human image coalescing out of the ether is a lot like how I experience the Wayne-thing.

The image no longer feels like me (though it used to—it used be very clear and feel very real). The vaguely human image now feels like otherIt feels like a contraction out of a bunch of mental (like analog TV’s) white noise.

Yesterday, reader Dave left a comment on the blog:

Look in the mirror. You are the same light seeing the light in others. Love yourself.

What a beautiful, wonderful comment. I love the image it instills. I love the practice that it suggests.

But I can’t love myself. I can’t love myself because I can’t see myself—I can’t experience myself. I can see the pattern of what I used to believe I was—but I can’t see me-the-one-who-is-doing-the-seeing.

I am the Witness, but I can’t witness myself. The Witness can never see itself.

Eckhart Tolle said it well in his first book, The Power of Now (paraphrasing from memory): “I hated myself. Then I thought, are there two of me here, me and the one I hate? Maybe only one of the me’s is real.”

When you step through the Gateless Gate, you suddenly realize—not just mentally, but in a very real and almost physical manner—that you are no longer Gilligan stranded on some deserted island, but instead you are… (something that you can never see or experience)… that is aware of Gilligan’s story.

And you realize (with an impossible to refrain smile) that you were always that something.

I can’t love myself because at my core…

I am Love itself.

And so are you.

3:12 PM

One of those odds-defying synchronicities just happened. Here is an excerpt of what Michelle just posted to me (obviously not seeing this post first, since it wasn’t published yet):

… is that I tend to lack in self-love. It’s absolutely true, and I have ignored this in the past because I have equated the “self love” thing with more superficial ideals like “positive self-esteem,” which aren’t really worth messing with. But self-love, loving every part of oneself, seems like what even you are doing with your shadow side, and to me it does seem to be essential. How could someone recognize the self to be false and hate parts of it? I’m not sure if it’s a barrier that must be dealt with before awakening can happen or a byproduct of seeing more clearly. Maybe both… But somehow I feel it probably needs to happen.

The Muse Stirs

Water Just Waiting To Flow

Water Just Waiting To Flow

MELBOURNE, FL — #Writing

January 13, 2015 3:09 PM

Though I had intended to write my willliving will, and whole body donation documents this morning, I felt my muse stir, surrendered to her, and worked on the book instead.

I moved the Introduction to the So Just What Is Mystical Oneness? section, tweaked it a bit, and wrote the following first draft for the front matter:

A Note To Readers

I am a Mystic, but I am a rational Mystic. I know exactly how unbelievable my life has been. If I were to stumble upon a biography of someone who had lived a similar life, even I would have trouble believing it.

Fortunately I have been blogging for over a decade—keeping an online journal where I recorded events and insights largely in real-time (often within hours).

As of this writing, I am the only person I know who has documented their life in a continuous, online stream before, during and after their awakening.

Though this is a book about Mystical Oneness, by necessity it is also a book about the author.

In reading this work—particularly the passages on my personal life—I know you’ll experience some doubts about the authenticity of some of these events. When you do, please refer to for all the evidence your mind may require. I understand completely—evidence and transparency are everything to me. In your shoes, I’d do the same.

I may be a Mystic—a man who believes in what most people would find unbelievable—but at least I’m a rational one.


In the summer of 2009, only a few months before my money was due to run out—only a few months before I intended to kill myself—I awoke to what many call enlightenment.

My personal self was seen through and dropped. My identity shifted from the noise in my mind to the Witness of the All. I realized what every enlightened person knows—what I had sought for over three decades—that the “I” is nothing more than a series of thoughts and memories. That the personal self is nothing but a bunch of mental noise.

I was awake.

Days later, my mind was mysteriously filled with an overwhelming amount of profound knowledge and wisdom, much in the manner as, in his book Resurrecting Jesus, Adyashanti would write about, “After a while a download of insight began— literally hundreds of insights per second downloaded into my system.”

I was so taken by these insights that I didn’t think to question where the insights came from.

And then the synchronicities began—the mysterious and odds-defying good luck.

Through no effort on my part, a longterm freelancing contract fell into my lap. I was so grateful for the work and income, that I never considered how odds defying the coincidence was—money simply arrived just when I needed it.

A woman offered to buy the RV I was living in—an RV I was considering (but dreading the headache of) selling. Old, used, RV’s are notoriously difficult to sell, yet she approached me and paid me well.

Needing a place to stay, a friend offered me her vacant condo in exchange for some maintenance work—even though I hadn’t asked.

Life mysteriously and continually lined up. It seemed I only needed to wish it, and it was made so.

Synchronicity—meaningful and beneficial coincidences—became the norm in my life.

But I was so taken by this wonderful and mysterious good luck—these ongoing synchronistic events—that I completely missed a key point: How could they possibly be happening so consistently?

Suddenly the honeymoon was over and for practically all of 2010, nothing seemed to go my way. A friend and reader of my blog told me that I seemed to be living the life of Job.

Soon a pattern slowly revealed itself: When I tried, I failed. When I surrendered, I succeeded.

As this pattern became clear, as this mystery took on the quality of truth—not through belief, but through repeated experiences—I was forced to face a profound and life-altering insight: Synchronicity implies God.

It was at that moment that I became a Mystic. With this realization—acknowledging that my ongoing odds-defying luck was real and repeatable—that I recognized that there was an all-knowing, all-powerful Intelligence behind everything; an Intelligence who loved and cared and could, if I only allowed Her, become an integral and beloved part of my life.

It was in that moment that I dropped my attachment to the dry and dusty rationality of traditional enlightenment; I saw through the paradox of the two truths of unity and separation; and this former atheist—a man of logic and mind and theories—looked into the eyes of God… and was humbled.

Over the years that followed—though I would often slip into compulsive trying (and suffer the now expected consequences)—I practiced surrendering my will and opening my soul and allowing the Divine to have Her way with me; for it was only in moments of surrender (and never in the conditioned trying) that Life would line up and effortlessly flow and the I-that-was-me would dissolve and become one with my Beloved.

To dissolve into the Divine, to surrender the self, to feel the love and the magic and the beauty of the absolutely ordinary, this is what it means to be a Mystic. This is what it is like to live in Mystical Oneness.

The Light Within All



MELBOURNE, FL — #MyLove #Radiance #Emptiness #Remember

January 12, 2015 2:14 PM

We got Dad back from rehab today (finally), so after we get him settled in, instill some new (healthier) habits, and get his outpatient schedule down, Mom should feel less stressed and overwhelmed. It will be a little tricky for a few days, but this phase of their lives—like all phases of life—will effortlessly find its groove.

I’ve been spending more and more time just looking at things—natural things. Just now, as I type this on the patio, there’s a squirrel poking around in the grass, standing from time to time on his hind legs as he tries to recall where he hid those nuts last week. The leaves high up in the trees rustle as a breeze blows through. A small bird, silhouetted against the overcast sky, alights upon a thin branch.

All are filled with the Light, with the life force, with TaoGodHerLike prisms, each bends the Light into a unique form: the form of grass or squirrel or tree or bird—each with its own personality and nature.

Too mystical? Maybe, but both common sense and modern science tells us there are no real boundaries, no borders. That separation is really just a mental concept. There are only currents, only patterns, only movement, all made up of One Thing.

What makes me a Mystic is that I recognize this “One Thing” as intelligent. Everything is just a current in the grand Ocean of Light. Everything consists entirely of TaoGodHer.

By extension then, every man, woman and child is a single current of this Ocean of Light—this vast, all encompassing Intelligence. Each person is TaoGodHer bent by the individual mind creating a unique human being… a unique personality.

If I can #Remember this—that at each person’s core is the Light—then maybe it will be easier to love them for their Light… even if I don’t agree with their mind-based actions.

The Meaning of Suffering

On The Dock of the Bay

On The Dock of the Bay

MELBOURNE, FL — #Remember #Soul #FourthWall

January 11, 2015 8:12 AM

Yesterday, I told my mother, “This morning’s insight was, ‘Suffering brings us closer to God.‘”

To which she replied “Oh, I know that.

Kind of took the wind out of my sails.

Still, for the rest of us, here’s what I posted to Michelle a few moments ago on suffering and doubts and confusion and particularly karma:

Re: Unknown (and doubts and confusion and karma): I know (but can’t prove) that I picked this life. It may not work out the way my mind’s desires want, but it will work out exactly the way that me-as-a-Soul wanted when I picked this life.

Therefore all my suffering—all the lessons suffering teaches me (the wise have their scars)—brings me closer to God Herself, since joining with the Divine is the Soul’s ultimate motivation.

[Turning to the Fourth Wall]

My belief is that (and I want to stress the word belief since, unlike the Soul and reincarnation, there is very little evidence for karma):

  • After death, we merge with the Divine
  • Even though we are Everything at that point—God Herself—our desires or attachments to our old ways rip us apart from Her
  • We (as a Soul again, separated from the Divine), find a life that helps us overcome whatever our desire/attachment was
  • We take on that life and forget our Soul-life (for maximum teaching effect)
  • We live, we die, we merge and repeat.

In other words, for spiritual seekersall our suffering was voluntarily taken on to help bring us closer to the Divine. (Exception: see the but-wait-there’s-more clause below.)

Free Special Bonus Insight: When we pick these lives, we-as-a-Soul have no way of knowing if all the suffering we’re going to go through will benefit us or not. Why? Because the Soul can’t see its own future. Sort of like when you sign up for a college course—you don’t know if it will really help you in the future or just be a waste of your time and money.

But wait, there’s more! If you act right now, you’ll receive this additional insight: I’m certain (but can’t prove or provide evidence for), that there are other reasons we come back: To help loved ones, to take a vacation-day (vacation-life), to take a thrill ride, to satisfy a fantasy….

Though reincarnation is practically a certainty, all the reasons why we reincarnate are belief material, so take them for what they’re worth.