December 2, 2014

The Fence's Fading Light

The Fence’s Fading Light

PENSACOLA BEACH, FL #MiracleLog #NoSelf #Remember … and clunky human nature.

9:10 AM

Reading Adya’s Resurrecting Jesus has helped me realize what has been going on with me lately. Once again She has come through and provided just the help I needed, right when I needed it: Adya’s interpretation of the Jesus story as an example of spiritual awakening.

When I first came across Adya’s concept of No-Self, I thought, “Why bother?” Practically everyone else in the course was all, “Oh, No-Self is the highest level, I’ve got to get that!” and I’m like, “Who cares? This relationship with Her is wonderful and beautiful (Adya’s Transcendent Self). Why would anyone want to move past that?” No-Self, in Adya’s own words, is boring in comparison to the earlier, awakened state of Transcendent Self. Seems like most, if not all his students, were talking from ego (I want the best!), while I was talking from experience.

When I asked Adya about this—why anyone would want No-Self since they have to go through the Transcendent first (and the Transcendent is wonderful)—he said, “Yes, the Transcendent is where all the good stuff happens—the miracles, the magic, the intimate relationship with God—but for the No-Self state to appear, you’ve got to want the Truth more than you want anything else—including all the magic and miracles of the Transcendent level.”

I’m not sure I agree with him on that. I think the desire for Truth is important, but there is also—as in my case—an additional motivator.

In Adya’s book, Jesus was at the Transcendent Self from the time of his baptism (spiritual awakening) up until his “death” on the cross (“Why have You forsaken ME?”). He only attained the No-Self state (dropped the me-thing, Jesus-thing) after his resurrection.

The differences between Transcendent Jesus and No-Self Christ are profound. No-Self Christ had far less inner and outer conflict, far less self-concern, far less hardness. Hell, No-Self Christ may not have had any of that stuff. Even though Pre-No-Self Jesus had a deep and intimate relationship with the Divine, he still had his human “clunkiness.” He still had his me-thing.

It is the hardness—the clunkiness—that has started to get old in my life. 

At the start of this journal, I mentioned my desire to be rid of this Wayne-thing that separates me from Her, but it is in comparing Transcendent Jesus with No-Self Christ that it has clarified the feel and the benefits of the No-Self state—making the state more real, more approachable, and thus more accessible.

In other words, as is common in this Transcendent Self stage, this information is just what I needed, just when I needed it.

And I’m grateful for that.

November 23, 2014

It's All AND's

It’s All AND’s

EAST OF GOULD, OK #VanDwelling #MiracleLog #HealingThing #NoSelf #MyLove … and drifting like Forrest Gump’s feather.

3:47 AM

A noise startled me awake and a bright light pierced the darkness of the van and a surge of adrenaline shot through me. A cop? A thief? That killer on the loose I read about on the news?

A moment later, the fogginess of sleep cleared and I realized I wasn’t camped out in the desert but at a Walmart and the light was just the street lights shining between my curtains.

There is no way today’s popular spiritual teachers are “blissed out” 24/7. No way anyone could have experienced calm clarity in this situation while the mind is confused from sleep.

I wish today’s teachers weren’t so opaque about their lives. To imply 24/7 bliss is like a lie by omission.

But then as I’ve learned the hard way, transparency—at least for the spiritual—appears too normal. It doesn’t sell.

8:25 AM

Looking for coffee in this quiet town, I sat at a red light while a flock of birds, off to my right, gently floated and swirled about, playing in the easterly wind. Just then, a small, soft, white feather drifted across my windshield, hovered a moment, then floated off across the street, reminding me of the opening scene from Forrest Gump. The light turned green and I pulled through the empty intersection feeling as charmed and lucky and grateful as Forrest himself.

11:00 AM

I’ve stopped at a picnic area overlooking Palo Duro Canyon, which is interesting in that you travel across all this vast, flat, and open farmland when you suddenly come across it.

My father’s clogged artery seems to have mysteriously unclogged, but his leaky heart valve is still leaky. Thankfully, he’s decided to live with it, as the risks of surgery at his age are too great. Since there’s no hurry to rush back to Florida, I’ve decided to try to avoid the interstates as much as possible and take any scenic routes which call to me as I come across them.

It’s a pleasant feeling to be drifting like Forrest’s feather—with a clear destination but no pre-defined path.

3:44 PM

Tired from fighting the relentless wind, I pulled down a dirt road and found a place to park. I sat in my easy chair, pulled away the me-contraction and stared out over the long brown grass waving in the wind. As usual, without boundaries, everything I gaze at feels at once both outside and inside of me. There’s a joining, a merging, a blending that is so hard to describe. The sound of the wind blowing through the hollow tubes of my roof rack, the slight shivering of the van buffeted by the wind, the ache in my neck and shoulders from driving too much… it is all me and Her and Us. Inside and outside.

It’s all AND’s: I, She, We, Other, Me… it’s all made of the same stuff. Separate AND one. Different AND the same. It’s not a mental exercise at all. It’s beyond it. It is an experience of the Divine Herself.

It’s not a permanent state—I have to consciously pull the me-contraction away—but it’s easy enough to slip into.

There’s a storm coming. Maybe I’ll spend the night here.

6:04 PM

I just read Michelle’s latest blog post. In it, she confesses one of her deepest fears: Her feelings of anxiety in relationships. I’m so proud of her. She’s walking it. She’s putting her fears out there for the world to see and in doing so, is distancing herself from them. Fading Toward Enlightenment had the same effect on me: Practically unintentionally I ended up writing about myself from both the first and third person perspectives (early duplex personality?). The confessing of my past and fears had the affect of distancing me-the-witness from me-the-story.

And the exact same thing is happening with Michelle. You can see her no longer exclusively identifying with her fears, her thoughts, or her emotions. Michelle-as-the-witness is starting to become more stable.

This “distancing effect” is one of the reasons why I think I’ll require any future students to blog about their lives (though possibly anonymously at first).

November 15, 2014

The Scorpion

The Scorpion

CONGRESS, AZ #Journaling #NoSelf #Soul #MyLove… and staring into a scorpion’s eyes.

12:32 PM

Having decided to go ahead with this experiment, I spent all of yesterday and this morning putting together the website, A Mystic’s Journal.

Ironically, the intense focus I experience when immersed in a project has taken me away from the very purpose of this exercise: To surrender what remains of my “self” to Her.

12:46 PM

Which got me thinking (of course), that the intense focus I just described is the unconscious version of the No-Self state (using Adyashanti’s terminology). No-Self is the experience of life without a sense of a self. Pretty much everyone experiences No-Self unconsciously at various points in their lives—while lost in a great movie or book, creating a piece of artwork, a session of intense writing, …—they just aren’t aware of the oddity of their “self” not being there while it is happening.

Conversely, being aware of “not being there” while things are experienced is exactly what the No Self state is (at least in the few times I’ve experienced it).

3:46 PM

After lunch I filled my pipe with tobacco and my mug with coffee and walked out into the desert and stumbled across a scorpion sitting on a water meter used to measure the underground water table or something.

I sat down next to him and we entered into a staring contest (which—with his beady little eyelid-less eyes—he easily won) . As his reward, I took his portrait while he acted all macho and stuff, silently wished him well, felt blessed and grateful for the experience, and continued my walk out into the desert.

Five years ago, I was living as a Soul when I had my awakening experience. Now, with a limited lifespan before me, my desire is to clear as many knots (conditioned reactions and habits) as possible which stand between My Love and I. The deep and serious contemplation of my inevitable death worked once before in expanding my consciousness, so maybe living as a Soul will work again.

Like Meister Eckhart and Saint Teresa of Ávila, I hope to immerse myself in the Divine and reveal any hardness which is still left of this annoying me-thing. In so doing—in seeing and feeling these “me-me-me” contractions—I hope to eventually relax and release them. My goal is that when I do die, I will have fewer attachments to this mortal life—attachments which will involuntarily tear me apart from Her once we merge (my belief is that each of us merges with Her/God/the Light upon our deaths, but our attachments—our desires for something “other”—make this beautiful co-existence only a fleeting experience).

From Fading Toward Enlightenment:

Under the moon on that clear night, both frightened and amazed, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Back,” I said, and my whole life changed forever.

Wholeness. Contentment. Joy and Bliss. Awareness without an Other. Love radiating outward into itself. No beginnings, no endings. No births or deaths. To Life, there is no opposite.

From the Stillness, a subtle tug, a tiny ripple on the empty ocean. A single twitch, a little pull and suddenly there were Two.

Ripped apart by desires unknown. She, the World and I, me. No longer One, we now were Two. It’s all my fault… Forgive me.

Yeah, it sucks, but that merging is what I see as the purpose of my life, or at least, this phase of my life (assuming I survive it). As Leona Lewis sings in Avatar, “Your love shines the way into Paradise, so I offer my life as a sacrifice.” Meister Eckhart or St. Teresa could have written those exact words.

Your love shines the way into Paradise, so I offer my life as a sacrifice.

And so this journal will be used to record my progress on just that: The immersion of this me-thing into the Light.

I’m sorry for all the odd terminology and links. I’ve been a Mystic for over five years now and in that time—and by necessity—have developed a vocabulary all my own. Lots of vast and varied experiences, all documented (and thus linkable). So don’t sweat the vocabulary. Just like the readers of my previous blog, you’ll pick up the language soon enough.