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Thursday, December 21, 2017

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like..

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like..


It’s Beginning to Look a lot like...

A conspicuous consumerist landscape wrangled around the fervent insecurities of the general population of intelligentsia sprinkled with erudite automatons and the thwarts of pesky and preoccupied plebeians. An atmosphere of high anxiety stimulates the desires and anticipated obligations of the humanoids that run around trying to attain some type of material acceptance and certainty. The expectations are high and smelly with the odor and luminance of high glycemic index food stuffs, cheap petroleum trinkets and icky chemical fragrance burning off into the night like a dying fire full of bacon grease. The season of over consumption and slothfulness comes in full speed and stride while tightly creating a plastic atmosphere of reciprocal altruism, forced holiday spirit and tolerance for the slow and slightly unintelligent people that simply take too long trying to pay for their purchases in line.

The candy coated red and white consciousness of the cold and wet streets leave a sense of something more to be desired. Into the fog droves of people trudge along to their boxes with screens while waiting so desperately to return their “cozy” boxes with screens and lay around like a cooked turkey with diabetes inducing cranberry sauce. What has become of the community and sense of love that were taught to us in our childhood? Several freezing underdressed people at the bus stop rub their hands together and look at their white breath as if it were the ghosts of holidays past escaping into the ionosphere with reckless abandon. Drink up! They say as the cold freezes the minds and motivations of the overworked working class. Drink these spirits to feel the spirit. Fill thine bellies with wine and copious amounts of simple carbs to simply give you enough numbness to make it through the drudgery of obligatory meet ups and office parties. You have made it through the sleazy and  awkward work conversations before and you can surely do it again with even more fake interest and disconnection.

Do you want that gift you can barely afford wrapped? Did you forget the honey baked ham? The voice in the back of your head tickles you with anticipation and anxiety that makes you believe you are missing or forgetting something. How bloody inconvenient. How treacherous of task list that pulls at the strings of your own well being. ( A state of being transient and amorphous in its own regard.) It will all be over soon you tell yourself as you sit in the bumper to bummer traffic mess waiting for the light to turn green. The panhandlers play your guilt harp like a virtuosic cherub. How could you not give that person a dollar or so? You dig into your crusty pockets to try to scavenge some loose cash. A quarter and a nickel will do. That’s the spirit. That temporary helper’s high dopamine rush will surely do you good with your self esteem and for sure give you some positive points with the man upstairs. Onward and upward through the twisting neighborhoods of inflatable snowmen, cheap manger scenes and icicle lights that illuminate the unkept porches of the middle to lower class soon to be retirees.

Buy this! You’re a pro at spotting the perfect gifts. An intuitive type of laziness arises in the most opportune time to grab the objects that make you think you care. You spend your hard earned overtime money to grab that extra special thing with that extra special bow. You know yourself that you are going to get it wrapped at the counter. You look at your rectangular device and peruse through the contemptuous feed of holiday selfies, annoyingly cynical statuses and political rants as you wait for the precious gifts to get the final tape down of wrapping paper. You’re ready to take on the next escapade of consumption. Onward through the gloomy wet weather to the next overcrowded store. But it’s mom and pop shop you like to tell yourself. Better than those corporate monster franchises. After all you are more special and unique than you think. Aren’t you?

Perforated cards of holiday charm litter the mantel of your fireplace. The Wilsons made another fantastic family holiday card again. Who do they get to photograph them? How Splendid. Your Aunt’s hauntingly endearing card tickles your cringe muscles and twists at your acuity towards grammar and punctuation. It’s the thought that counts. That’s what they always told you. Later you realize you didn’t send anything out. How lame and peculiar. But you’re busy! Completely understandable. Basking in the gratitude of the loving support of family and friends, you go towards the fridge to find a snack. The inside guts of the fridge contain nothing more than a few beers, some orange juice and some questionable eggs. All this time you spend your money on gifts and forgot to think about your little self. The last time you went to the grocery was a couple of weeks ago. You scavenged like a buzzard nibbling at the free holiday cookies at work and frequenting gas stations to scarf down an assortment of protein laden sugar bars and potent energy drinks that allowed you a small window of time to complete the consumptive holiday feats. Like a blur, you remember everything you have been neglecting. Your car, your body, your family, your friends. Alone at last in a lonely lapse.

Tinsel cinnamon scents send your senses for a spin.
The allure of cocoa motivates you for that sugar rush.
Always chasing that high from moment to another. Sure you can get sad. What a time to be alive!  To drive from point A to point B. To spend your hard earnings on things. After all, you are stimulating the economy. Milking that sweet teet of consumption and satisfaction. Think of the looks on their faces when they see what you got the. How lovely. How gratifying. A momentary reason to be alive. A sense of purpose aligned with a sense of hope and dare I say faith. Tryptophan and Dopamine slowly drift one to a state of contentment and lustful laziness. A quick move to the warmth of the covers as the sleet and snow fall on the forgotten lawn mower left out front by the porch. Visions of not working float through your head, while your motivation to sleep with temporarily pacify the dread. At least for awhile you don’t have to force a smile as you slowly surrender the sheep in your head. Like a hermit crab you descend into your blanketed shell. Waiting to ascend into dream land. Waiting to eat more and lay around. What a life to live. How beautifully profound. Tis the season to be jolly and all through the house, only a few creatures are stirring in the depths of the poorly insulated and luke warm epicenter of a half payed off mortgaged shack of a house.

DG

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

So you Found God?


So you found god ?

So you found God?
That's great. Where was he?
Or she? Or it?
Did you find (G) after some type of transcendent experience? Did you get goosebumps? Do you think it was your brain trying to make sense of things by manufacturing this concept of "GOD"?
Well, good.
I thought I found God once as well. Tucked away between the corner of the salty snacks and soft drinks at a convenience store. A glimmering effervescent light illuminated my sight. Surely, it seemed rather deceptive. What could have this experience been interpreted after the fact. Was my mind creating a somewhat opaque transcendental experience? What was I feeling? Could this illuminate the idea that GOD is simply all around?

Now, back to you and your discovery.
Breathe. How did you feel?
Let it marinate for a bit.

What does this GOD mean to you?
Do you see (G) as separate from yourself?
What if he or she or it is in you? Maybe not totally real. More like a projection. More like an anthropomorphism of what you THINK this GOD may look like. Your mind makes this image to try to make sense of these things that are unknown. These things that you just can't quite explain.

The MIND will do its best of trying to fill in the gaps with what it already knows. The data from past experience not exempt from synapse misfires and false images.

The devil is in the details?
Maybe GOD is in the details. The minute. The seemingly insignificant. The tiny scales that make up a snake. The cracks and the crevices. The peaks and the valleys. The crests and the dips.

G O D i s i n T H E G A P S  (?)
((The Mind Tries to Fill in the G A P S with what we already know.)) To be continued..
The G A P S in B E T W E E N   T H O U G H T S 

The spaces in between. That space. You know, the emptiness that is most of the universe. Oh, what about the space in between those thoughts of yours? Well, wait a minute. Are they really "YOUR" thoughts? They seem to manifest themselves quite nicely without your will or power to do so. I mean sure, you can think( if you think you can think) all the POSITIVE or Comforting thoughts you want. The thoughts will still appear, but there seems to be "gaps" in between them. Since thought is of the past, can GOD be a part of any of those thoughts?

Is this GOD old? Is it part of this psychosis of compulsory thought that exists with or without our attention? The happening of thoughts. All Old. All part of the mind's conditioning.

What Was was Not What is. What is What was seems to Distort What is.

So maybe it was the thought of god ?
More specifically, maybe it was the thought of the idea of God?

Thought really only plays in the realm of the known since it is constrained from past experiences. All housed in the center of memory and conditioning. All running from the lenses of the past. Older fleshy software.

Certainly this God cannot exist in the realm of the known. If (G) was in the realm of the known then it would be a thing of the past and an eroding conceptual pillar of past conditioning.
More on this later..

So this god that you found must be within the g a p s of the known. Within this unknown that of course we do not or cannot know more about if we approach it from our own mental images and rotting cyclical and compulsory thought. This god cannot in a sense be conceptualized or it categorized since that would require the power of thought and the known which is already dead.

Here's a question:
Do you believe everything you Think?

Take a minute to ask yourself this question without immediately trying to seek an answer.
What happens when you stop trying to seek an answer?
Can you simply sit with the question and wait for what arises?
No rushing. No Formulating. No pursuing.

Does it matter what you believe? Do you think it matters to other people?
How do you "act out" that belief or set of beliefs?
Surely, you can believe anything you want, but how does that coincide with the way you perceive or act in the world? How do you manifest your "ideal"? Is God a representation of your ideal?

How much of "your beliefs" are your "beliefs"? Do you understand? Sit with it.
How much of your own self perceived beliefs are the result of your past conditioning? How limiting can then be if they can only emerge from what is known and what is already gone?

If you follow a certain belief, aren't you constrained to that particular belief system? Within that belief system, you can act or think more rigidly, more closed off, and more distorted in your perception. In what ways does that allow you to understand other beliefs or world views without creating a mental wall or border between other people? You can sense that separateness that arises from dogmatic belief systems. You can see how it divides and conquers people. From that distortion breeds division and conflict. Surely this GOD you found would have no interest in creating such neurosis. Would IT?

With the creation of the belief system, you automatically create the possibility for conflict with opposing beliefs. A false dichotomy of sorts. Do you see? There lies a fallacious level of superiority that aims to inflate, separate and serve the illusory sense of self which is a product of time and a mere servant of the past and what was. The ego, if you will. Do you think that this GOD you found would have any resemblance or attachment to this conceptualized mess we call YOU and I?

Go
Out
Doors

Well, what do you know?
You can only act out what you know!
What you know to be right or what you THINK you know to be right.
If you act from thought (the past), you are acting from what you know. Within the realm of the known. From past experience. From "your" conditioning.
Acting from what you know from and of the past.

Old. Stagnant. Limited. Measured. Predictable Programming.---you.

So sometimes..
You do what "FEELS" right. (( Well, what does that mean? ))
Could this be a part or merely the workings of your intuition?
Could this be the unknown force within us? The unknown force that acts through us or for us? Could this be the sub conscious or a type of self deception?

This goes to the idea of DOING your BEST!
Doing your best with what you KNOW at the TIME!
We are conditioned to the Known. From the Known.
Attached to thought and measurement.
Attached to the past (the image) and our collected experiences.
So we seem to always ACT within the realm of the known.
Can this GOD you found be just on the other side of the known?
The Unknown.
This Unknown. We can conceptualize this Unknown all we want much like how we like conceptualized the "Now". We can get lost in this mental activity. We make it so easy by fitting the NOW with our own distorted perceptions of our selves. We can get lost in the activity of categorizing (limiting) and conceptualizing (defining from conditioning ) this UNKNOWN and NOW all we want. Hell, we can conceptualize the idea of GOD in an infinite amount of facets and conundrums. What does this do for us?

GOD//The Mind// The Image

Certainly, our mind creates an image of certain things. Concrete and Abstract. Dogs and Cats. Sadness and Butter. Insects and Religions.

We can create an image of GOD in our minds. Well, it's more or less involuntary. Our minds tend to create these images from the past conditioning. It happens just like thought happens. It appears as cycles of thoughts. A string of images limited to the known. These images could have been influenced by our parents, churches, schools and cultures. Any external experience from the past. Any past interaction with objects or living things. That's right, your mind creates these images all from past experiences and assembles a distorted perception. From those images, comes division. By creating an image or idea, it creates a wall from what is. It builds up an illusory sense of self constrained to thought and knowledge. An Illusion of separateness if you will. The mind creates the potential for conflict and miscommunication. from the assemblage of distorted images. Within this mental division lacks the relationship with what is. Dirty Glasses from the past trying to make sense and "look" at the present.

Can one have a real relationship with a GOD if false images are created by the mind? Is false images are created, doesn't it create the possibility of creating a false hierarchy or an illusory ideal of what SHOULD BE? Surely, this GOD couldn't hold the same attributes of the KNOWN? Could this god be as false and compulsory as THOUGHT? So what have found? Could it be nothing? Could this GOD you speak of be the manifestation of emptiness? Could this GOD be of the space of what is?
The gap between the thoughts?
The raw ephemera of experiential awareness?
This conceptualization of the Un-Conceptualized?

Do we even need to understand this thing of a GOD thing-a-ma-bob?

The NEED to understand is thought aiming to find a means to an end. A sense of completion and certainty. To fly towards security and knowledge. To rinse. To repeat. To gather more knowledge and perpetuate it's own compulsory and cyclical psychosis.

If the ROOT of desire is suffering, then is the desire to seek a GOD or even try to attach to or grasp to the conceptualization of GOD a pathway to more suffering? Can this GOD truly take form is desire ceases? If the desire to rid one of desire a deceptive goal to perpetuate more desire? From resistance comes persistence and the persistence to create more resistance will only strengthen that which resists. The resistance is a reflection of unconsciousness and the cyclical psychosis of thought.

Thought Seeks the Reward.
The Security. The Certainty.
Blind Attainment of Knowledge.
The Validation of the Self ( the past ).
The increasing Distance between You and I. Them and Us.

From What is to What Should Be. Is this "Should Be" an ideal? Is this Ideal a part of what we think of as GOD?

Can one feel the Presence of This God?
To Feel. To Act. To Complete. To Commune.
To Integrate. To Reciprocate. To Appreciate.
A Domino Effect of Appreciation. A snowballing of gratitude.

WHAT IS
GOD
SHOULD
BE
GOD.


DG

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Monday, September 18, 2017

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Thursday, September 7, 2017

TripTych1


Don't Trust a Guru with a Dirty Car.


I sat on the ground with my legs crossed.

His beard was impressive. He had a way with words as well. A spry and youthful chap in an aging body. Not too old. He has some years left in him considering he was doing headstands and cartwheels 15 minutes earlier outside in the grass. You could just FEEL his presence. Uttering syllables like a hot knife through butter.

You could also FEEL the energy in the room. Effervescent. A cool and vibrant air. An atmosphere of openness, compassion and equanimity. You could hear people shift their legs between different seated positions. I could definitely hear the man scratching his beard behind me and the lady with the sniffing nose. It didn't bother me, but I found it intriguing and interesting.

The bearded guru man guided us through some breathing exercises. Slow to fast. Fast to Slow. We took one giant breath in after about 50 controlled rhythmic breaths. We sat and enjoyed the silence. Oh, and let's not forget the sniffing woman who must have had allergies behind me. Things were wrapping up. The guru got up, bowed and vowed that we would see us during his next visit. The air was still still.

Everyone got up and dispersed. Many went straight to their cellphones. Tiny screens of distraction and dopamine hits. Ring Ring. Tap Tap. Material Fixation. Insecurity Projection. In any case, it seemed as if people were eager to get back to their own neurotic lives. I mean they already fulfilled their "mindfulness" requirement by taking this costly one day course with a bearded celebrity. Good for them, stimulate the economy.

I was heading out to my car in the parking lot. I took my time getting out of the place because I didn't want to deal with the exiting traffic of the pretentious spiritual intelligentsia.When the parking lot seemed fairly empty and casually navigable, I darted to my old metal coffin on wheels. As I was about midway through the parking lot, I noticed the guru putting on some trendy ( RayBan ) sunglasses and heading towards his car. Needless to say, it looked like he was doing pretty well. It was a Blue Audi. Well, I call it blue. It could have been colored something slightly more elegant and seductive, but for the mean time let's stick with the color of "blue". The guru was certainly looking pretty cool and collected and he went to unlock his front driver side door. As he was about to open his door, he got a call from someone on his Iphone. ( Yes, he owned an Iphone ) (( Materialization at New Spiritual Levels )). He stood up straight, took the call and headed away from the car back to the building. He could have simply forgotten something or wanted to follow the Golden Rule of always using the bathroom before you hit the road. We have all ignored this rule sometime in our lives. Let's just all accept our own mistakes and inherent biological ties to our own evolved bladder control system.

I felt like I was in a daze. I couldn't take my eyes of his car. I became curious. The curiosity mosquito bit me on my lower back. I felt a rush of adrenaline and rebellious thoughts passed through my frontal cortex like a hornet on speed. I wanted to walk over there and see what his car was like on the inside and outside. Was there luxurious tapestries and pristine leather seating? Was there a Buddha on the dash and not a speck of dust on the floor beds? I was salivating. A lustful desire swept over me to investigate. I felt very voyeuristic, much like the time where I was a teen trying to peek at the interactions of the neighbors across the street that were engaged in a passionate and daunting argument.

I walked towards the car. I felt the goosebumps on my arms and I could feel my heart racing like a panicking amphibian. What was I doing? I asked myself. I felt this pull. Almost like paralysis. I felt as if my will to turn around had taken a costly vacation to the Bahamas. I got closer and I looked inside the car. It was a mess. Words cannot describe the sheer chaos that manifested itself in the back seat and even the front driver side. I was even questioning how he would be able to drive with all the discarded taco wrappers and empty zero calorie soda cans. Was this a reflection of his inner turmoil? (( Was this a reflection of my Inner Turmoil??! )) Certainly. Was he wearing a mask that covered his internal struggle? I felt as if this "guru" was more human now. I could see his flaws and idiosyncrasies. I could see that he certainly did not practice what he preached. Odd. Fascinating. Peculiar and Off Putting!

I walked away feeling as if the experience I paid for was tainted. I had a bad taste in my mouth. It was almost as if my expectations were strangled and thrown in the noisy dryer. The dryer that can't keep you up and manifest itself in your dreams. That creaky old thing. I felt as if I lost some respect for this self important bearded symbol of authority. Well, I certainly couldn't get my money back now!

I got home after driving in silence in the car for about 30 minutes. I tried to listen to music. I really did. I switched through the landscape of Top 40, Country and Alternative. I didn't have the desire to reach through my glove compartment and pull out the burned compact disc of late 90s hits. Not today. I think I needed that silence. It was there for a reason. I needed to collect my thoughts and truly feel the confusing and saddening experiences(feelings) that I just was a part of. No use in trying to escape it.

I remember the guru babbling and touting things like, "what you resist persists" and that "the inner was a reflection of the outer." Those just seemed like words now. Like dusty platitudes from a Marketing Team. Who could I really trust? I certainly felt betrayed by him. Was I making a big deal of him having such a messy car?

I looked around my living space. Everything seemed to be pretty in order. I saw a few things that needed tidying. I straightened out the books on the shelf. I cleaned the crumbles of the kitchen counter. I even finally took out that pesky cob web on the back end corner underneath my dining room table that faced the backyard window. I was feeling better. Why was I so concerned with somebodies self made environment? Why was I so disgusted by it? Was it really any of MY BUSINESS?

Well, short answer. No. I just felt that the guru's words didn't align with his actions. That seemed fraudulent and corrupt to me. It was corrupt. I didn't know his true intentions. This could have all been an act. Maybe he was a Slob in Real Life. Maybe he was a less than decent person that deceived people to the top. So many questions.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
" A mask we all wear. A smiling face that can cover our sadness. Pushing everything to the brim in the closet of your mind." 

" They may wear robes and sport giant smiles, but what do they think?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Was I projecting? Maybe seeing that backseat mess was a reflection of what needs to be ordered in my life. Maybe that experience was meant to happen. Was it for a reason? Listen, I have never thought of myself as an " Everything Happens for a Reason", guy, but what compelled me to go towards that car if it wasn't in my best interest? I can try to take apart what happened all I want, but it already happened. I was doing my best with what I KNEW at the TIME!

I got up from my couch in the living room as if a bolt of lightning hit me on the top of my bald spot. I stuck my finger in the air and declared that I would take responsibility for the things around me. The outer landscape is a reflection of my inner landscape. I made a commitment to the direction of maintaining what I had control over.

I looked down and saw that there was a dime wedged in between one of the cushions. The reached down and grabbed the dime. It has a little spot on it. Looked like brownie residue. Whatever it was, I picked it off, walked to the trash can and disposed of it while keeping the dime safely in my palm. I took some alcohol and a rag and wiped the dime. Good as New! I took the dime to my change bank. Clink.

Would I have gone through all this trouble of trying to properly put away this piece of money if I didn't have the experience of facing the dragon of chaos that manifested itself through someones unconscious and disorderly state of consciousness? When I gazed into the back of that car, did I have a transformational and transcendent experience? What was pulling me into this realization?

I felt as if things fell into place after being thrown into a state of disorder and chaos. I was with it. I was experiencing what came to me. No resistance. No trying to escape. I did what I could to make things "right".

I went to bed and tried to close my eyes. I was anxiously anticipating getting up and making my bed to the best of my abilities. A thought of the guru's dirty car popped into my brain. I let it be. Something called to me.
Something whispered into my brain.

"Don't trust a Guru with a Dirty Car."

DG

Friday, September 1, 2017

Thursday, August 31, 2017

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Conquer and Divide


Conquer and Divide.
You Best Pick a Side.
Even if you feel conflicted,
The time is ripe and we are all in for a ride.
Time Beats its bloody drum. A crescendo of a hum.
"They" feed the narrative of Them or Us more like "Them for Us".
----switcharoo---

( Well who is "They"? We can get into that. )

But Who's Us?
You see that divide and if you're eager to decide,
Listen to that Agitation.
Listen to that Impulsive Reaction.
((ATTENTION))

*Look and Listen to the Person or People that are using "US".
For what cause? For what reason?

Well, Them or Us just seems unjust.
Them For Us is even more more disturbing and robust with critical deconstruction.
Fractured. Desensitized. Polarized. Bifurcated. ((Sides))

Well of course when you take a "Side", you divide! From that division arises, conflict. From that fracturing arises tension, anxiety and suffering. Our Post-Placental Bodies Writhe for Security. Isn't that so? Well, Thought Writhes for Security as well. This sense for belonging is a stretch for certainty and security. That's Right. You can't have a Them Vs. Us without the Ubiquitous Conceptual Mechanism of Disgust.

The Lines are Drawn. Well, they seem drawn. They seem like they are moving farther and farther from each other in this ideological landscape. But we know that they are blurry. With this Controlled Opposition, we're always in a hurry. ((To Jump to Judgements and Conclusions))

Hippity Hoppity...

Polarize..
Stigmatize..
Mesmerize.. 

Narrative (X3)

Who controls the narrative?
Who controls the "Agenda"?
Whatever you want to call it. Whatever name you want to give it.
"We gave it a Name". Remember that. Remember what you give a name. Remember what you put into categories or neat little boxes.

I see INDIVIDUALS. A network of wonderful people. Delightful persons.
A Lady with a Red Hat walking a small little chihuahua.
A Business Man running late to work.
A homeless man begging for change.
Such Diversity. Such Potential.

What's the Common Thread?
Fleshy Automatons. Products of Billions of years of evolution and struggle.
All a part of an interconnected ecosystem of competence, skill sets and cooperation.
The Cooperation of Unique Individuals. A Web of Survival.

On the Tight Rope between Order//Chaos. A Ying/Yang type of atmosphere. From the Known to the Unknown. A landscape of uncertainty. Certainly, a big scape of uncertainty.

3 Important Questions

1. How did you arrive to your view/side?
2. Why do you IDENTIFY with that Side?
3. Does "your" side limit you? * Do you even know WHY you are on that side? *

A Deeper Look.
Is it really "you" who chose "your" side?
Did this categorically dubious side CHOOSE you?

Let's Ruminate in this sauce..

It's the rhetoric they use. The words they abuse.
How do you absorb it? How do you REACT to it?

Can you articulate what YOU are THINKING without using Someone (Other than your) words?
Can you criticize everything you think?
Can you OBSERVE everything you think?
Do you even THINK that you are the one doing the THINKING?

What you identify is intertwined with what you think. What you think comes from the core of past experiences and memories. Collections of data. Is your so called "Identity" a construct of thought? Does thought construct an identify to justify its own existence? When you assertively identify as something, do you automatically distance yourselves from people that have different identities? Do you pave the path for more conflict, disorder and fractured distorted perspectives? How aware must one be if they are so eager to "latch on" or hold on to a boastful and unconscious identity? Limited by thought. A creation of thought to perpetuate more thought.

How unthoughtful?

Are you still Listening?
Is it all about listening?
If you just listen without the INTENT of trying to choose or "solve", something miraculous happens. A new understanding. A new perception not tied to dominating, repressing or suppressing. 

So you see the fleeting nature of choosing sides? Have you made a decision to not choose sides? Have you started to lean more towards the them or the they? Have drifted towards a new category or box? Look at it. Feel it. Feel the consequences of division and conflict. The constant push and pull. The never ending psychosis of cause and effect. The vicious cycle of compulsory thought.

Conquer and Divide.
You Best NOT Pick a Side.
Even if you feel conflicted,
The time is ripe and we are all in for a ride.
( Remember that these memories are of the past and can get you lost within the present with swirling past thoughts. ) Nevertheless, you are HERE NOW. 
Time Beats its bloody drum. A crescendo of a hum.
"They" feed the narrative of Them or Us more like "Them for Us".
Them.They.Us.We.The Other.
Wouldn't it be quite nice...
If You and I could finally SEE one another?

DG

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

I was thinking about Peanut Butter.


I was thinking about peanut butter.

I know it sounds random and slightly irrelevant, but I can certainly *try* to explain myself.

Do you ever have a thought pop into your head at random or after seeing something that sparked that particular thought? Maybe an image. Maybe hearing someone in the distance talking about something in particular. Then, have you ever encountered something relevant to that thought later in the day? For example, someone mentions that aforementioned thing or relative concept that popped into your head earlier. You weren’t seeking it. You weren’t asking for it, but nevertheless, it certainly happened. But Why?

I remember a certain scene in the classic movie Repo Man that relates to what I am talking about. The homeless grungy mess of a character stands next to Emilio Estavez as they talk about things and burn different pieces of trash in an old metal barrel. The grungy character was mentioning how when you think about a “Plate of shrimp” and hear it brought up later in the day deals with the “Cosmic Unconsciousness”. At first this seems “Woo Woo” at best, but when you start to break it down it starts to make a little bit of sense. You can call what you want. You can name it as being a phenomena or quite possibly a “sign from the universe”. No matter what you call this particularly unusual event, when you become conscious of it it becomes even more mystifying and awe inspiring. (in a sense)

This whole Cosmic Thought Relevance Pull seems to maybe be a distant cousin from Deja Vu in way. Think about it. Is the brain just in tune with a certain word or concept brought up earlier and when it recognizes that same concept whether implicitly or explicitly, does it try to ascribe meaning to the event? Or are we trying to construct some type of arbitrary meaning to the conscious observation of what we THINK “our” minds are doing?

I may hear about peanut butter at 8am going to work on the radio in the car.
2 hours later, I may hear about a coworker eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Maybe not directly to me, but my ear catches it as if it was a cry for help in the distance.
From that moment on I am craving peanut butter. I am thinking about peanut butter and all its implications and provocations.

Can I mix peanut butter with Hummus? Would that taste good?
Have I ever tried peanut butter on a frozen banana?
What would lead me to think to tie a “frozen banana” to “peanut butter”?
Weird. Curious. Imaginative. 

Was I in the right place at the right time to hear the conversation about peanut butter?
Please do realize, that I am using peanut butter as an example. This may have happened to you with something like a horse or a plane or even an abstract concept like multi-verses or the Gini Coefficient.

Does it have to do anything with your subconscious?

It’s almost as if these thread of concepts and thoughts were floating in without your control. Without your conscious directive of will or effort. Of all the times these things have happened, it did give me a certain feeling. A certain bodily response that stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat. As if my curious engines in my head were ignited with passion and motivation. Maybe not so much motivation, but more with the curious intent to look inward and try to piece together meaning or relevance to the jut in the compulsory and cyclical impedance of thought.

What happens when you follow that rabbit hole of that interconnected thought manifestation of coincidental significance? What happens when you follow that “peanut butter” curiosity so to speak? Do doors start opening up for you? Does your perception of your worldview or your “life” start to change? Do you feel like you are being “pulled” by something that is just beyond your reach and your subconscious or something deep within you is trying to nudge you toward an exotic adventure? All magnificent things to ponder and to try make sense of for sure. But what if it isn’t necessarily trying to make sense out of that odd thing?

Once again, why would that thought happen in the first place?
* Think about it without trying to come up with an answer. *

Maybe you were in that right place at the right time?
Maybe your body was craving the peanut butter because it needed some dose of satiety from protein and fat.
Maybe your brain just doing its thing was trying to connect familiar thoughts and concepts within a certain scope of time.

What happens when I consciously try to look for things that deal with peanut butter? Does "me" making an active decision create more conflict in a sense where I am biased trying to look for things that are or aren’t there? If I am constantly trying to look for things relevant to peanut butter, does it not change the feeling and the mysticism of spontaneity and the true presence and uncertainty of what is? Well, that is a very heavy and important question. If I become so conscious of how my brain works to a certain extent, will I eventually find the root *cause* for this cyclical thought blossom of the concept peanut butter?

Why did it have to be peanut butter in the first place? Why couldn’t it be a horse, house or even a mouse? It could have been so many things and I can’t seem to trace the exact reason that thought about peanut butter came into cerebral fruition. Did I just put peanut butter into your head? Are you going into different thought tangents about the many possibilities and applications about peanut butter? Let it sink in...

If I craft my motivational directive to that thought about peanut butter, does it become less of a journey that can lead you towards something else? Maybe something more important. Either way, it began as a thought and I wouldn’t advise getting too attached to it.

((AHA!))

Maybe that’s it. The attachment to thought. Maybe recognizing and being aware of that relevant thought in time is a trigger to align with the present moment. It could be the involuntary glitch in that thought loop that allows you to become conscious of how your thought patterns work. Maybe you make a big deal in trying to ascribe meaning to your thought patterns. Do those thought patterns turn into habits? Do those habits turn into routine? Do those routines make you dull and predictable or do they enlighten your life or seem to “improve” it?

I am aware that I am being aware about this thought and reaction to the concept of peanut butter. This awareness of the awareness brings a flooding sense of presence and curiosity. Why would it matter where this weird peanut butter thought web came from? We are constantly bombarded with thoughts when awake and when sleeping. When we become too attached to a thought or thought patterns, we get caught up in our own cyclical compulsion of memory and sensory input. The compulsory cycle of thought turns into a form of psychosis if we start to identify with it and try to manipulate and control it. If you can be aware of how the mind chatters, you can watch it and observe it without getting too involved or swept away by it’s own manifested neurosis.

Maybe the mere thought of peanut butter was meant for me to become more conscious and aware. That seems almost silly and absurd to think about as well. What makes me think that I am so self important to think that this one event could ultimately change the direction of my life and fiber of my being? Well, I can certainly listen. I can certainly be aware of what is happening with my head and allow it to manifest itself before my eyes without trying to “get involved”. What is this ascribed meaning is deceptive or a type of trap? What if I didn’t try to make a BIG DEAL of these weird familiar thought phenomena?

That’s interesting. Familiarity. It seems as if the mind works to try to grasp onto familiarity as a means to keep things in order and maintain a sense of certainty and belonging. Is the brain constantly looking for things that are familiar or even nostalgia. We know what nostalgia makes a us feel. All about that feeling. That loving warm certainty and feeling of familiarity. The mind builds its structure around familiarity because the center is built from memory, thought and the past. So it stores all these images and concepts that are inherently beholden to what has been learned or observed from the past. Very interesting indeed. If the mind gets caught in a thought loop that relates to an overarching concept, wouldn’t it be correct to assume or assert that the mind will ultimately gravitate towards. Familiar thoughts lead to the programmable pursuit of familiarity invented by thought and only contained within the known which is “of the past”.

After all this writing, I am craving a peanut butter sandwich. Possibly, with jelly. But what kind of jelly? Am I only limited to certain jellies that my taste buds are accustomed to or “familiar” with? Do I have a conscious or unconscious bias towards certain types of textured peanut butters and flavored jellies? Such deep and meaningful questions that can have an immense spectrum of hypothesizes and possible answers. Am I being pulled by or influenced by biological processes? Or even my genes??

Shall I let this thought pattern of peanut butter do its own thing or will I try to intervene and thus change it into a completely different thing?


DG

Thursday, August 10, 2017

GrAvyTude


Gratitude.

Drink it in.

The Infinite Chalice of Gratitude.

The ever filling receptacle of thankfulness.

We know now what gratitude can do for us. What it offers us. How it nourishes us. In an act of immediacy we can orient ourselves and our mindsets towards gratitude. Aligning with the present moment and breathing in. Of course you can always be grateful for even the smallest and trivial things. One need not look toward the “positive” aspects of their life to express their gratitude. Some of the best “lessons” have come from the revelation that challenging and heartbreaking experiences open up our sense of awareness and ability to fully experience and feel what is happening for us.

It is the trying times that seem to break through our blind spots and walls that we have put up around ourselves. It is the act of observation. The Observation of the self and the events that transpire in front of us. It is not entirely about choice. When we choose, we tend to hesitate and get in our own way. We can certainly choose to be grateful and thankful in every waking moment. This isn’t a bad thing. Establishing a habitual gratitude reaction to what happens can strengthen the neural circuits within your brain. It doesn’t mean that you wholeheartedly subscribe to a more positivist outlook. Quite the contrary. Establishing a Gratitude Feedback Mechanism Strategy means simply being with what is without pushing back. One can observe the callousness and idiocy of ones self and be thankful for that particular revelation if they are truly in tune with the way they are acting. When they are truly in tune with what is actually HAPPENING.

When I look closer, I can see that gratitude turns out to be a byproduct from being present. Much like joy. When the need to seek or satiate isn’t hovering around in the mind like a gnat, a silence arises which leads to a calm sense of being. From that state, all possible reasons to be grateful are illuminated without will or effort. Without the lust to attain or even change your trivial state of mind of WHAT IS.

The observation of what is happening.

When we are constantly trying to push a “gratitude agenda”, we are using will and effort to benefit the self. It takes a great deal of energy to try to force or mandate a continuous state of gratitude. It is like leashing thankfulness to a pole while constantly berating it to serve us or change our current mood or feeling without actually “FEELING” it. That’s the key. Feeling it out.(( HOW DOES IT MAKE YOU FEEL? ))

We are presented with a huge spectrum of feelings and emotions that are so unique to our own humanity. We can see gratitude much like a flower. We can admire the beauty, the scent and the perfect design of it, but when we try to pick it we are lustful and trying to prolong the beauty for our own neurotic self. If we can simply LOOK at the gratitude flower without association or the need to CAPTURE it, a whole new experience opens up. That is a sense of gratitude that arises naturally without the need to TRY to look at the thing in a certain WAY. It is being aware that we are being aware without trying to be aware that we are being aware.
This cool amorphous substance of gratitude that organically arises from choice-less awareness is Gravytude. Imagine if you will. A gravy like substance that pours over the world around you. A slow and sumptuous flow of thankfulness that is satisfying beyond words and concepts. Yes it is there. You can see it. It is not about choosing to see it. It is  about SEEING it. Don’t you see?

Well does it actually exist? Well not materially. In a way I have already created it if you are reading this. The concept. The idea. This idea of a substance that seems to construct the perceptive fabric of existence and life itself. You and I can imagine this Gravytude in dramatically different ways. When you first saw this silly word, did you think of gravy in a gravy boat? If you did, then why did you? You certainly hold the concept for what gravy is in your brain. Constructed from the architecture of thought and memory. Did you imagine the gravy being chunky white or more of a meager brown? Did your Aunt Sheryl serve your family thick brown gravy at Christmas time? Maybe you established a personal connection with that past experience of gravy. Maybe it did indeed make you FEEL a certain WAY.

Well, we created the concept of gravy so that we can all understand what we are talking about even though there are probably at least 60+ species and genus of Gravy. Notice the nomenclature. The merging of two similar sounding words.

“ You can have Gravy on a Boat,
You can hold gravy in your hand.
It simply tastes marvelous on ham.”

Gravy and Gratitude.
A personal question for me:
How did this rather absurd concept appear in my head? Where did it come from?
Was I looking at gravy? Was I thinking about the IDEA of GRATITUDE?

From what I can remember, ( although this may be casually distorted ) is that it appeared to me without me trying to think of anything. My brain was doing it’s job. I was at my JOB doing the things I needed to do. I remember it popping in my head and it gave me a little dopamine reward. A little curved smile. Certainly, I could search forever to try to see where it came from, but that is of little interest to me. I am grateful for my brain making those synapse fires and connections.

I have built up a trend of trying to pair similar sounding words together in order to craft bad puns and wordplay. This is something I have inherited from my family. It is not something that I necessarily will myself to do. It is part of how my brain makes connections. I am sure my past conditioning is a HUGE part of it. It is fascinating to look at and think about. To ponder on the how and why of the workings of my brain. I am certainly a product of the past. My self is primarily the product of the past. And thought itself of the PAST.

The fact of the matter is is that I didn’t choose for that to pop in my head, but it drew me in. It intrigued me. I wrote it down so I wouldn’t lose it. I Wanted to Capture it and Expand upon it. I wanted to write about it and discover how I could push this idea of GRAVYTUDE.

It stuck in the back of my head. But why? Was it really that important? Well, it was important enough for me to commit time to attempt to sit down and write about it. Was it really all me doing this or am I being directed from a psychological and/or biological force? Where is this piece of writing going to lead me? Am I following a series of steps in a certain direction or am I under the impression that I am in control and I am trying to harness a creative snake and spirit? What is making me ask this? What is pulling my strings to make me think this certain way and use my past experience to craft and semi-coherent piece of writing?

Who knows? I know! Well, maybe I don’t know. In fact, I can factually say that at this point I do not know. Of course, I don’t know more things than I know, but that is beside the point. So many questions. No need to seek an answer. Only a chance to be present and aware. Ok, Now I am aware that I am aware that I am writing. I see that, but am “I” the one being aware or am “I” being deceived. Well in a way, the “I” is an illusion. A creation of identity within the realm of past experience and biological determination. A false sense of self tied to the limits of knowledge and categorization. I understand. Agh!
There I go. Going straight to the “I” again. It will have to do in the meantime. If I try to stop using “I”, that is just the “I” trying to expand itself. It cannot be rid of through will, effort or discipline. That is the “I” acting to attain. It is an escape from what is and a denial of how things are. Disorder and Chaos.

Back to Gravytude.

That Milky and Murky substance that “I” invented.
I can’t really take credit for it. It seems as if it was “gifted” to me. Maybe it was a mistake. Must I be a victim of circumstance?
All I can really say is that I am grateful for it.
Is it meant for good?
Doesn’t matter.
I can take it apart. I can analyze all I want. I can try to find out why it came in the first place. If I place a meaning on it, it deteriorates. If I try to swaddle or strangle it, it goes into its shell. I can observe and I can appreciate. From that appreciation arises a sense of gratitude and maybe even a callously subjective sense of meaning.

Sure, it’s what I think. Well, thought seems more to happen to me. Or for me? Well, how self important of me to think that! It came and it passed and more thought came in. An endless cycle that I can look and be grateful for if I am not caught in it’s own drama and psychosis.

I can feel that gratitude.
I can FEEL that Gravytude.

I can Be.

DG

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

A Dot On the Painting.


A dot on the painting

It was staring at the beautiful blend of colors. The technique was on point. All the right things in all the right places. I could feel it. It was pleasing to all my senses. The gallery was quiet. The temperature was optimal. The sound in the room was at a muted tone where you could really focus in on the beautiful aesthetics around you. I was certainly feeling it.

I sat and stared at the painting for a solid 15 minutes. It was captivating. I couldn't remember an experience like this before. I felt present and alive.

Then I noticed something interesting. A tiny black dot on the lower half of the painting. More towards the right and not too close to the center. Was the dot intentional? Was it paint or some other dark substance? Immediately, I was taken out of the presence I had before hand. I felt as if the “critical bug” had bit me. I was also curious. This one tiny dot seemed to have thrown off my prior mesmerized memorization. It turned into a new experience. This time, something slightly uncomfortable.

It was if my whole world was changed by one tiny thing. One tiny insignificant thing. But was it really insignificant if it has made so much of an impact? It’s amazing how one tiny thing can simply ruin the totality of something else. Much like seeing a tiny fly swimming drunkenly in the glass of red wine you were about 75 percent through finishing. I wanted to regain focus of how I was experiencing the painting before I noticed the dot. Was it even possible? Was that fleeting moment I had beforehand only meant for that specific time in the past?

That’s the thing. I was trying to simply “reproduce” the experience and the supposed mindset I had before I noticed the dot. It was the mind trying to grasp for pleasure. For comfort. For the watered down nostalgic substance of the past. Was I consciously trying to hold onto the mesmerizing experience I had before hand? Was I creating suffering by resisting this slightly uncomfortable experience that came into fruition?

I still appreciated the painting for what it was, but part of me was simple displeased that I could never see it the way I saw it beforehand. I was resisting what is and trying to force a consciousness based on what should be. The thing is is that it will never be the same and that is alright. Was that dot destined to appear in my consciousness and bring about a new sense of awareness that thrust forth an existential quandary? Was my subconscious combing the visual desert in front of me? Maybe I was meant to go to this specific art museum on this specific date at this specific time to experience a proverbial fork in the road or a mildly robust revelation. In any case, I would walk out of the museum with a new “outlook” on perception and life.

When I moved my way through the rest of the museum, I felt a sense of bewilderment as well as an overwhelming warmth of contentment. I didn’t feel boastful or prideful, but I felt more and more comfortable with this ever presence amorphous serpent of uncertainty. This uncertainty that was just out of the reach of my control. Just outside of my current level of consciousness. I didn’t feel the need to try to discipline or condition myself into trying to experience a piece of art the way I thought it SHOULD be experienced. I was allowing thoughts and feelings to come on through without getting too attached to the. I was allowing things to exist as they were and as they are. I wasn’t too keen on trying to take apart of analyze the art around me. Some of them caught me more than others, but why was that. I could have easily been as fascinated in the marble sculptures than the colorful paintings from modern artists. I could have easily been led astray by the vibrancy of the high contrast religious art around me. What was pulling me? What was pulling my strings? Another moral quandary, I thought. Did it really matter what I thought of all this art around me? Did it really matter if it was tasteful or not?

I was out of my head. Not out of my mind. I was out of trying to postulate and promulgate thoughts based upon on my own conditioning and intellect. That was getting in my way. Was I getting in my own way? Well, yes.

The specific pieces of art that drew me dealt more with what I felt and less with how I really “thought” about them. Why would it really matter what I “thought” about them if thought is essentially constrained to the past. Of the past. So I listened. I paid attention to how I felt without the need to judge, criticize or sculpt like a piece of clay.

Did it really matter if it was "good" or "bad" art? Did it make me a feel a certain way? Was I paying attention to that fleeting moment? Was I conditioned to believe what was suppose to be good or bad art by what I was taught in the past? Would that make my perception distorted and disconnected allowing for more conflict?

I came into to see a painting and I got a lot more than I expected. It was an experience. I knew me trying to replicate this experience was silly and absurd. I felt as if I needed it. Did I think I needed it? Well, that could possibly be. (Probably) If I thought I needed it, what would that actually mean? If I became too attached to the thought of “ I thought that I needed it” then that would mean I would be more dependent on that thought(s) hence more constrained to the past. If I was looking for a meaning or an answer in that experience, then I would be fishing for a dead concept formulated in the past. I know that that experience cannot be reproduced with me trying to reproduce it. Will something like it happen again? Maybe. That’s the great thing about allowing things to happen. To allow the impermanence of uncertainty to permeated the presence of which you preside. The presence that we reside in now. Yes, now. The one that exists as you read this.

The dot started out as a slight annoyance. I could have resisted it and let it eat me up inside. I could have let it bounce around in my consciousness like a pinball. The slight discomfort in my awareness started as a seed and sprouted to become a tasty presence plant. From that acceptance of what was, I melded into “what is” without the effort or will of trying to guide it or change it. Did the dot allow me to open up my awareness or did I allow the dot to guide me into the unknown?

I can really only say that I am uncertain if I am certain and that uncertainty will always be certain in every moment of presence.

DG

Monday, July 31, 2017

Thursday, July 27, 2017

The Blank Piece of Death

The Blank Piece of Death

It's right in front me. Just sitting there. The eggshell white gleam of a perfectly perforated piece of paper. A polar bear in the snow. The whale underneath the milky sea. Right in front of me.

I want to make a mark. I want the male to be perfect. Where do I start? Nothing is coming out. Do I try to look at something else for inspiration? That's it! Where's the inspiration? Do I really want to try to copy something? I mean not directly. I can certainly look at what's around me and go from there. Oh, there is also the internet! Hm...

Wait, so where do I make the mark? Do I start in the middle? Alright. Think. It it me thinking too much that is preventing me? Should I focus more? I feel like I have been through this before. Why did I start with a blank slate? Why did I choose to sit down and try to force something out? Ok, maybe I am in my head too much. Let me move around.

12 Jumping Jacks Later *

Alright. I am pumped. Let’s do this!
Here we go. I’m going for it.

*Makes a mark*

“ Alright, how does this mark look?”
Looks Great! I need to make another mark. But where?
Okay.

*Makes another mark *

I don’t know if this is working. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing. Am I still thinking about this too much? Am I creating this whole whirlwind of madness myself? Oh the tragedy! Oh the horror! Okay, I need to calm down. I’ve been down this road many times before. It’s simple Trial and Error. Everyone starts from a point where they don't really know what they are doing, right?

The thing is. It all starts with one mark, doesn’t it. One word. One Line. Etcetera.
What influenced me to make this line in this one spot? What was pulling my strings when I decided to make such a mark? Did this first mark set the tone for the rest of the piece?

I took action from a thought? Maybe more of a series of thoughts. But what influenced the series of those thoughts? Was it something in my past experience? Certainly, the more and more I look at these marks I made, I can see that they look quite similar to this mango I saw at the supermarket a couple of days ago. The mango was gleaming and effervescent. It was almost as if the rays of god shined down upon the mango through the crude and dusty skylight from up above. It would see that I was in the right place at the right time to witness such a holy fruitful experience. Did this have any influence on the marks I made? Maybe I simply cannot tell at this very moment.

What lead me to use this specific colored pencil? I chose blue. I confess, I think blue is my favorite color. Did I chose blue out of convenience or because it reminded me of something in my past? Maybe I am biologically predestined to like blue by a series of events and genetic markers. It seems like there are a plethora of variables that could contribute to why I chose to pick this specific blue in the first place. I mean the blue was right next to a Razzmatazz. Why didn’t i chose that fun color? The name is so inviting and playful in itself!

Did I chose this paper out of convenience as well? I could have easily chosen something more colorful, but I decided that starting from a white blank slate was the most valuable and accessible. In any case, why didn’t I venture out and make marks on a different material? I feel as if I have been conditioned to make marks on white by what has been taught to me in the past. The color of this white makes the mark pop very nicely. I am not entirely displeased with the fact that I chose this variant of white. But wait... Did I really choose this white paper? Did something else within me choose it because it was familiar? Did my subconscious lead me to pick this piece of paper because it knew what was best for my unmitigated creative energy? Am I thinking too much about this? I would say, yes!

The amount of time I have spent postulating and conceptualizing the why of this situation, I have lost my way of what I wanted to do in the first place. I just wanted to draw. I just wanted to create something unique and fresh, but it seems as if my intellect and my doubts have bubble up to the surface thus distracting me from my original affair. It is almost as if I have nested a nice little place in my pre-frontal cortex.

 Too much conceptualization and not enough action. ACTION! That’s it. I merely need to act without thinking too much. But how do I do that? What is the correct method for this matter? Wait. I am thinking too much about this again. I understand my problem more clearly now. I am getting in my own way. I am focused too much on focusing too much. It doesn’t seem like there is a concrete method. Certainly, I can find out for myself.

Back to the page. I am making this glorious marks. I am feeling this momentum and energy streamline for me. I don’t think I have felt this exuberance before. This magnificent jubilation of unbridled expression. Wait, have I had this experience before? I am thinking about the past again and not with what I am doing.

Bollocks!

I made a bad mark. I feel as if my whole composition is ruined. Was this planned? Did I ruin my own flow? Wait. Maybe this was for a reason. This bad mark has made me more conscious with what I am doing. With what I am trying to make. Maybe it’s wrong for me to think that this is a wrong mark or that something went wrong by me not being with the creative energy. Maybe it’s not the best outlook. I can manifest from what is. I can make the best from this moment on. I can work around this flubbed mark without doubt or worry. Much like a jazz musician. There cannot be a bad note if I make it sound like it was intentional. I do not need this one mark to destroy the integrity of the entire piece!

So I make more marks. And more marks. This accumulation of marks has made an interesting picture. It is certainly not what I expected. That make’s it better right? I attempted to let go in some sense of the word. I FEEL like it worked. It LOOKS like it did work. Inside these marks are a history. A history of different thoughts and feelings. A roller-coaster of reactions within the body and within my thought plagued consciousness. A history. An archival ancestry.

All this time I felt like I needed more distraction so I could focus more.
What happened? Why was there so much struggle? Did there NEED to be so much struggle? What made me have such a creative block?
Did the simple of idea that I HAD to sit down to make a picture deter me from making an actual picture? Was it the mere method of the act that spurred the anxiety and frustration within me?

How bizarre. How intriguing. How confusing?
What choices were I actually making?
What things were influencing my reactions in those moments?
What was pulling my strings?

Was this picture made from a blank piece of paper predetermined to look the way it looks right now? Did I even have much choice or guidance in this decision? How much of this picture was actually “ME”?

All I can say is that all this thinking has made me hungry.
I am craving mango.
I wonder why....

DG

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Interesting


I Blame Society! (?)

I blame society !


I blame society!
It has been so unjust to my friends and me. Well, my friends and "I". The "I" that I so cling to. So oppressing! But wait...

Aren't I a part of society? Not apart from society? Is it silly to think that I am "not" part of society. Well certainly. I am society and society is me. I am part of this monster that I so fear. Shall I look into the mirror? Pointing the finger. Blaming the “other”.

It's that division. That illusion of separateness. I can give society a name. I can bring it into existence. Well, who is bringing it to reality? Is it really me? Remember that we gave it a name.

So I give this so called society an evil aura. A menacing hat. A disorderly conduct. A set of disorderly conducts. I create a society that stems from resentment. That resentment leads to blame. Why don't I just blame myself? I project what I don't want. If I resist it, it persists. Do you see? Do you see this chaos that I create? This hell of my own manifestation?

If I think this "society" is "oppressing" me then I am certainly appealing to this imaginary and demigod "oppressor". Doesn't that make me inherently dependent on this vile and incendiary oppressor? It deconstructs my individuality to the core. Am I no longer a responsible and reasonable individual? Do I become part of a tribe or sacrifice my individuality for the agenda and unconsciousness of a collective?

Do I create this illusory mask of society out of convenience? Out of ignorance? I can really know what I know now from that I have known. When it comes down to it, I know way less than I thought and what I think I have known is simply unconscious to me and appears to be more “unknown”. From what I know, I know mostly that I don’t know.

Am I biting the hand that is feeding me?
Or..
Am I biting my own hand?
And...
How do my fingers taste?

Do I identify as a victim when I blame such disorder in my life on society? Why would I not just take responsibility for my own actions? Why not focus on what's "immediately" around me?

From my thoughts ( the past )
To the area just within my reach.
To the area outside of my reach that I can transport myself to maintain to control.

Like a stone thrown into a lake.
The ripples make no mistake. Outward! They ripple out from a center.
The quality of those ripples depend on how hard the stone was thrown and the mass and contents of that stone. Radiating outward from one spot. From one instantaneous action! Now, what spurned that action? Thought? The involuntary will of desire? Some biological reaction just outside the realm of my awareness?

So you see how these ripples may create society?

As we might see society:

People walking their own walk. Their own path. Their own destruction. Their own distractions. Own little worlds with distorted perceptions.

The potent possibility and probability of people trying to subtly manipulate other people.
A Disastrous Dance of Projection. Some might say.

What becomes of a culture of resentment and blame?
Doesn't it begin with each individual?
At each individuals awareness and consciousness?

There writhes the unconscious serpent that tries to avoid what is and strangle you through aggression towards why should be. This unconscious resentment cannot sit with gratitude with what is. We can give this is a name if we want. If one cannot take responsibility for what is now, then they will be of the past and try to construct an escape from what is.

Remember that we gave it a name.

You create an "identity" when you blame "society",
What a selfish way to gain notoriety,
You see disorder and want more order,
But little did you know,
That trying to fix disorder is somewhat disorder,
From this unconscious abyss,
It's easy to miss.

Fragmentation. Disassociation.
All dealing with the ills of the self. The illusory "sense" of self. A resistance to what is not known. A vulnerability for ideology and unconsciousness to fill in that irritable void.

When one cannot or will not question their internal struggles, they might project and not reflect. So, the external world becomes a manifestation of their own unconsciousness. A reflection of the inner to the outer. So a person who is in such conflict, can only resort to blame and resentment. All of course, remnants of the past not dealt with. Contained within the limited center of memory and thought.

So society as we see it can be based on relationship or lack there of. Starting with the self. The relationship and the self knowledge of one's self. If we cannot have or know relationship with ourselves, how can we have relationship with other? There is the dysfunction and disorder that leaks into this society. Now do you see?

It's the fragmentation of me that creates my view on this so called “society”.
If I can take a look at the "me", and I will inevitably see the disorder and chaos that has been spawned in front of "me".

For if I want to point a finger, I miss the target. (to sin) If I observe the neurosis of the mind in "me", I can see. I can act. Accordingly. From that I can "become"....( be )

From that (be) to (act).
To Act it Out.

A benefit towards myself

then,

"society".

DG

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Aesthetic Cream


Ok, Thirst of All..


Moist Alley


Moist Alley

It smelled stale. It was for sure damp. The old bricks leaked and almost sweated from the sheer mist of it all. It was almost as if the bricks were living and breathing organisms. Like sea cucumbers or an obtusely variant species of urchin. Smells were abundant! Full or vibrancy and effervescence! How both amusing and inviting, but also somewhat off putting. It is certainly an alley of pungent proportions.

It was in its nature. The opposing forces of moistness and the allure of pleasant vibrations shed a new light on mourned existence. Alas, Moist Alley was a place of true mystery and prone to a great deal of nose snubbing skepticism. A skepticism almost academic. A skepticism that resembled the relationship of varnish to paint. It could be said that it wasn’t for everyone or that it was for everyone that didn’t think it was for anyone. A conundrum of great complexity. The mere mention of Moist Alley was enough to have hominids recoil and divide amongst different patterned schools of thought. Personal preferences matched with a subtle and visceral candid veracity. A writhing if you will, of the body and through the various sanitized senses. For the people it attracted, a new adventure awaited right underneath their withering probosces.

The dampness was one thing. It is something to be experienced. No words in mind have come to fruition to try to articulate the sheer magnitude of the dampness. A dampness of great verisimilitude. I have heard that the ratio of the dampness to moistness has been pretty even and that it fluctuated based upon the inherent political climate and humidity regulated by the nearest Chinese food establishment. The dampness almost created an ambiance of Film Noir like murky mystery. A romantic and almost dreary like existence comparable to the shed in E.T. One could say that the floor was wet, but it could also be seen as a mild damp or a mega moist. It gave you a feeling. A feeling as if you were barefoot even if you were wearing a contemporary piece of footwear. Plastic or suede variety. All types of laces.

It brought all of your senses to a wonderful buffet of delight. Every pore on your body was satiated with a type of amorphous bewilderment. A taste you could feel. A feel you could taste. An almost orgasmic dance of senses. It was a portal into the present. An experience into the delights of being human. Almost as if every cell in your body was at a strip mall day spa.

It was a spot of reflection and motivation. A place to escape, but also to venture inward without abandon. A caressing of transcendence paired with a fine glass of acceptance. One step into the alley, you get a little dizzy. One must embrace it. Let it into the meat space of yourself. Like a simmering. The outward moistness is a reflection of the your own inner moistness or dampness. Your ratio of what you reflect is heavily dependent on the moistness that you project.

Are you down with the dampness? The gravy like moistness that oozes through your very being. The lubricated ephemera of modern life. A trip to Moist Alley can be taken anywhere in a sense. Much like a meditation or a malleable type of mantra. You can certainly visit the actual geographical location of Moist Alley, but Moist Alley certainly exists in all of us. Accessible at any moment and every moment. A pleasant gravy float awaits your creamy consciousness. At first Moist Alley seems so daunting, like trying to jump into a close to freezing body of water. It’s like a band aid. One must rip it right off. One must jump into the pool without thinking about it. Without trying conceptualize, intellectualize or methodically try to take what it means apart. When you try to understand Moist Alley, it becomes more and more displeasing to your taste buds. Like a slightly rotting peach in the middle of a summer afternoon. That moist peach pining away. Inviting insects from all around to imbibe.

One must accept this Moist Alley. Without abandon. With the enthusiasm of a young and slightly curious child person. It is the melding of the experience and the experience(r). The cremation of the line between what is and what should be. The dualistic nature of circumstance in concert with the uncertainty of chaos. It seems freeing. Not a freeing that you think. Not a freeing from pain or pleasure, but more of an entrancement of whatever comes. Moist Alley welcomes the vast spectrum of all emotions, feelings and vibrations. It lets them permeate the damp bricks and the slightly soggy bread crumbs. It lets aggression and aggravation slide into the crevices of its own amorphous and impermeable being. The impregnation of energy. The composting of carnal delights and morbid sights. The transmogrification of order and chaos. A balance of pudding like substances.

Are you ready?
Are you ready for the moistness?
Can one ever be truly ready for Moist Alley?

Ready or not.
The Moistness Awaits!


DG

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

That Butter Life


That Butter Life

Don’t mind me, I’m just living that Butter Life.  The slippery and creamery effervescence combed by a yellowish concoction of gooey existence. Within the realm of pure creaminess, the application of such metaphorical and metaphysical “butter” contextualizes the importance of the permeability and malleability of living a present and rich life.

Oh, you know I put that butter on everything. It goes on that bread of such rich decadence. I spread the butter across all spectrum of masses. All various forms of physical and metaphysical "material". The food and the non-food. The butter enriches the taste of cruciferous vegetables and therefore enriches the taste buds life. That fatty morphing substances enhances the glow of such lucrative digestion. The butter is the transport for the enrichment of plentiful vitamins. Slide it on the asparagus as if you were caressing the limb of a lover. The dance of the knife and the cutter. The groove of the serrated edge and the sharp dairy ledge. It’s the cream of the crop and the deliciousness that won’t stop.

You know it when you slice it. When you lay that knife right down on that moist and decadent surface. You can feel it in your bones. Yes, oddly satisfying to say the least. Such a pleasure to be in that moment. That buttery moment of immense decadence. Are you starting to understand the Butter Life? Are you starting to “feel” what I am talking about?

That sizzle in the pan when you drop the butter in. Calling for your ear buds and taste buds to unite in harmony. All senses are used in totality within this Butter Life. The butter is certainly better when you know the udder from which it was sprung from. When you know the location, it’s even more motivation to seek out that enriched yellow gold that we have already been sold. Blessed be the cow that has given us such pleasure from the birth of butter. That gold from the udder and straight to the mother who will nurture the child. That fatty sensation that has helped feed this nation and give us the strength to move onward!

To butter is a verb. You can butter all the world. It means to glide with the impermanence of life. To be with what is and to add some to sparkle to your biz, when interacting with new experiences! To slide. To enjoy the ride. To relax through the challenges that face us. To butter. To Dance. To Romance. And to Glance. At the strange and beautiful workings of this everlasting existence.

As you are reading you may get this feeling. This feeling of calmness and content. This feeling of warmth like the butter in it’s true form. Not too refrigerated where it gets too “blocky”. We can place a name of this feeling or can we just feel this feeling. Let it pass over us like the newly buttered potato. The baked potato of richness and potential with so many topping ideas it becomes very special. That spice of life. Well, not really a spice. Butter ain’t a spice, but a way of life. Do you see it now?

To butter is to be. Like to really BE. For butter or worse, it allows you to SEE.
To see and be FREE. But what is Free and how can that be? Well let us see...
For the better, you must butter so that there can be no other. No other thing that distorts your mind from another. Do you udderstand? So to butter is the Being of Being with the revealing. The revealing of that which is. So, to better put things in perspective of butter, one must go on and live a “butter” life. A life full of promise and uncertainty. A life that brings about butter upon the unpredictability of crumbling bread type of scenarios. It better be butter if we know now that butter is better.

From one form to another. The solid. The creamy and liquid. Butter takes all magnificent forms. Versatility and mobility. Synchronicity and Electricity! Butter really has no specificity. If it was very specific, it might not be as terrific. To be and to butter. To live and LOVE that Butter Life.

Living that butter night with all potential in sight. Taking that knife and spreading it across your life. With such finesse. With such expression. Being the butter can transport you into another dimension. The dimension of now. So don’t have a cow. Praise the cow for the blessing of a butter life.

Do you think things will get better if you embrace the butter. Do you think that things will work out in the end? Well, I can tell you my friend that every moment you spend with butter will take you to new heights. You will know who you are and how you will go far. Just slippity slide into the butter. You butter believe it or you can leave it, because the butter life is what is and what will be.

Who wrote the book on butter?
It better be butter. It is more butter than butter.
The source of all buttery goodness.

Gotta butter your bread to get ahead!

DG

Thursday, June 8, 2017

Can you see without the me?


Can you see without the Me?


Can you see without the me?
Well, who is me? Who, me?
Well, the me. You know, the me that you identify with. The me that you may see as the I. Are you talking about me? Well, I am talking about you...in a way. Talking more about the idea of this so called “me”. The one that we cling to in times of need. The lens that we see the world with. That me.

Well, how do you see a tree? Do you see the tree with me? Do you see the tree in relationship to your sense of self? Just look. Think about it for a moment. If you see the tree through the lens of the me, you are separating yourself from the tree. The observer creating the idea of the observed. How absurd? You are defining the tree in relationship to me. Do you see? You may not like the shape of the tree or you may try to figure out what kind of tree it is. That is the me! But can you simply just see the tree without the lens of the me? Yes, that’s the question!

The me is your thoughts, your conditioning, your preferences and your ideas. The me is of the past. You are the observer and you identify with it. So, if you look at the tree through the me, you are looking through the lens of the past. You essentially are the past. You are limited by thought and your own conditioning. How wild. So when we identify with this conceptualized past sense of self known as the me, we are distancing ourselves from what we see and setting the stage for conflict, confusion and misery. How clever.

So back to the tree. Can we just see the tree as just the tree. We can see the me can’t we. Well, we can’t actually see the me. It is a concept created from the past. The me is the illusory sense of self and the story we want to believe about ourselves. This is all from the past, subconscious and our conditioning. It’s very interesting to think about. That’s it! The thought of it! The thought of thinking about the me. Do you see? When we think about the me, who is thinking about the me? Is it the me thinking about the me? Ah, you see the trap? It is like the concept of the ego. You know that double headed serpent. That clever ballooning idea that operates on comparison, conflict and separation. Some us want to hard to eradicate the ego, but that is the ego playing tricks on you. That is the “ego” trying to get rid of itself by expanding itself. Oh dear. You see how the ego wants to escape things and search for means to an end. Do you see? So resisting or trying get rid of something is certainly of the “me”. It is the opposite of being present. It is trying to escape from what is! How wonderfully exhausting! How terribly delicious.

So we can see the me, but if we try to get rid of the me or suppress or repress the me, we strengthen that me. The identification with the thought. The resistance to what is.  So, can we see without the me? How can that be? Well, if we are so eager to find an answer then we are not allowing ourselves to discover the unknown. We can only know what we know. And what we know is also what we knew. That’s true. So this knowing is of the past and is BIG part of the “me”. Now you have to see! That’s it! TO SEE! Because when you see, without trying to identify with the me, you are seeing. Not analyzing. Not comparing. Not trying to identify with petty thoughts or with worries on what type of gift to get your Aunt Sheryl. Not trying to go towards pleasure or to escape pain.

That is of the mind.

Yes, your mind. Well, when we say “your” it implies ownership. It is the mind. It is what it is. Yea, yea, you have heard about it. It’s true. So you see the me, now. Is it me seeing the me? Look at it. Who is asking the question? Do you see? Yes, YOU see. You see that me. That me of what you think should be. Those thoughts that you see! Yes, the ones that you see. That’s the me. You see. Observation!

Thinking,
A
Thing
of
the
Past

So now do you see that tree?
Now do you see the me?
No, not the me that you think is the me. The me that is of what “should be”.
You can conceptualize all you want. We can conceptualize all we want.
This idea of me. This idea of what should be. This idea of what might be. This idea of what CAN be. But, do we see. Do we see this dysfunction? Do we see this disorder and this suffering? Can we simply sit with it. Can we accept what is?

Do you actually believe your story? The story of me?

Just look. Just see. What about you? What about me?
We can see that that tree is tree from the knowledge of the past. From the concept of the tree. We can label the tree. We can call it beautiful or ugly. All part of the me. Comparing, measuring and analyzing. Without all that mechanical workings, can we truly see? Not ideally see. Not “trying” to see. NOT trying to be....anything.

But can we see? Is it the me asking if the me can actually see? Can we see if it is this “me” that is asking if the me can actually see?

WHO WOULD YOU BE IF YOU WERE NOT ME?

Can WE see without the me?
Can we really just SEE the TREE without the ME?

DG