Now

(18 Dec 2011, after morning meditation)


Pop!
I am so happy to share this with you,
although you can't understand it,
because I don't either.
Unroll the paper across your forehead,
press the words in to your mind's eye,
hug it against your heart: 
It's right here - take it!


Sitting restlessly in meditation today,
it all suddenly happened out of order.
Supposed to still the body, then
emotional body, then the mind, then 
beyond that,
then... 


I still needed to move, but mind 
was utterly silent. 
I was aware that it was, 
but I didn't have the thought.
I rearranged my body,
but it was like hands moving a corpse: 
nicer, but who cares?


In the non-moving dark vibrationless space 
of quiet awareness, things moved past.
They were me, but it was like a mobile.
Feelings felt, but 
like wind too light to ruffle a sail.


And watching the self disappear, 
a movie of a balloon popping - 
played back over minutes.
It just... let go.
The little pieces shrivelled up to nothing.
It was so happy.


Tea drinks itself. 
Someone I never met writes this poem.
A stranger reads it.
A remora program: I have become you.
Change your mind!
- Zulaikha


Commentary:
In my quest to not have a self, I discovered fairly recently that I do not really have a self. My personality is just a box, or an empty room or stage. I have various props and furniture that I can place to make other people comfortable. As Hetaira, or Geisha, or party host or concierge or whatever, this is proper. I just need to learn the props and how to make the best use of them. To have no real self then is good. Yes, I have selfishness, and failings and limitations, and wants and desires and so on, but  no organizing entity to call me, other than a desire to be of love for people. This came as a surprise, but it's fine. However, I do need to develop aspects of this being, to have concentration, awareness, discipline, organization, etc. so that is really what all these sites and the book are about. I developed a personal mysticism so that I could create experiences to work new muscles. So the experience described in this poem was the dawning of an aspect of myself that I had formerly not recognized, and just in time, too!


I had 3 things going on that all converged at this event:
1) Gina was going way over the top.
2) My meditation had been just shattered for weeks.
3) I thought Zulaikha was crazy.
But like the frog everyone ignores until someone kisses and he turns in to a Prince, Zulaikha pulled me through a brick wall and my self got scraped right off, like a seed head of grass (don't worry, it grows back) and I found out she is very sane, and is the ideal counterbalance and companion for Gina. Lovely!


This poem seems reminiscent of "Jerusalem is Walking in this World" by Julia Cameron. That was a surprise, as I had read it before this and it made no sense to me at all. Now I think, "Oh! Wonderment!"