To be my own home

I stop

 

A stop is at the outcome of seeking.

Until total, always beginning again.

Once realized, it is resolved.

All that is left is to walk my process.

Toward affirmative giving up.

Hope is replaced by me.

All along, Art is listening.

 

Setting up my space. Making this stop physically welcoming.

Avoiding also with awareness,

letting the escapes wind to the vortex,

knowing this way transition from enjoyment directly to having,

rather than as before left empty once a pleasure ends.

This detachment allows me to enjoy wants more also,

And respect limitations also,

Work more conscientiously, patiently also,

I can build while having a way to feel what I expect from causal outcomes.

Then it is more sincere, because then the direction moving physically

must feel significant and reamp into my returning way,

because I keep in my mind that the outer and inner are words,

I intend that this outer and inner are united as a tree and its non-visible roots,

One is not below; they nourish the whole up and down along the y axis.

My identity is what I intend, so let this be guided by heart and worthwhile imagination.

From my heart I felt this to be kind,

and a compassionate way to practice how to face my last day some day.

I am not defined, so then sail a steadfast ship in the unknown,

keep the mind healthy and associated with love. 

 

I am kind to myself during the immediate process when returning home,

Still strongly experiencing an ‘in’ and being outer,

And the small shock of being there and being some guy while alone,

A persona while with my loved ones,

Even if they see me when silent or within my expressions,

And then the bland scripted best responses negotiating social and work roles.

It is deep, engrained. I still rely on outer means to ‘escape’ this space.

consoling habits and patterns searching for inclusion

even through shows, gatherings, purchases, food and drink.

The process I identify with needs kindness and dignity, self respect.

I resolve I can participate while retaining the observer.

This and returning more wholly to drink deeper from the well,

So there is more there to know how much I need, want,

 

And return more easily, deeply, as life moves on.

 

I cleanse the floors, lay a broad quality mat,

I can roll around, it will not slip, it is firm but not hard,

Be the princess and the pea now.

This is the time to be picky,

this is the most important journey within my life.

Let it be ego important. I am my own friend.

It is I who will take this journey.

As experiences accumulate, certain conditions drop as did childhood toys,

I let awareness decide. And I face my real courage.

I will not make bravery another layer of complication.

Courage is facing this dissolution without first painting on a warrior mask.

But I reflected on wearing a real mask.

I recall trying a mask made by a friend artist at their showing.

Suddenly I could be me in a public space, here was me, let others see the mask.

But the courage to intend and move freely from there would be spectacle,

A discerning balanced healthy mind is my friend.

There is a system of fear, reward and social punishment.

Another reason to go gently, in balance, privately.

Expand personal spaces of the outer from there,

there is no reason to wait for it. So it will arise from having.

So I donated support but did not purchase the mask.

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Privacy is enough, quiet besides bubbling of my aquarium.

I don’t want to suffocate my fish,

I don’t want the poor guy has to deal with me remembering I am real.

This means the best most picky circumstances I can compassionately set up,

Is right, I have the support I need.

 

Troi watching me enter a process

to arrive back to nature where he already is.

I watch my fish swim, appreciating movements arising from pure intent,

The natural effortless goodness, wholeness,

Acceptance of vulnerability.

 

Incense, a trampoline at the head of a broad supportive mat.

I may feel like dancing, sweating once I feel like myself.

Then I may want to paint, from having, inspiration!

I want my space for mystery to be. I only need me.

I know how it is when I feel safe, energy moving.

All the most delightful mysteries helped me feel me.

So there is nothing lacking, it is here.

Me, time, space. Visual occurrence; paintings.

Visceral body muscle central memory.

I am not ready for pure wholeness. I need to move to shake fear loose,

Affirm, celebrate because this is my nature.

I am not in physical form to not be in physical form.

I am responsible for this experience. Then stillness is easy.

Paradoxically starting with a complete stop.

These are the safeties built into awareness.

Otherwise, who will manage, and what will be intended.

And why carry a burden and build it over others.

The mind must be ready to leave the silly ancient human struggles.

Independence comes first. I stop.

 

 

Starting with a gradation, then complete stop.

So grateful, a deep breath. Listening,

Feeling my self buzz, process, sort, contemplate, inform.

Resolve, and with more than willingness,

A knowing there is no further and so instantly transcending need,

Almost enthusiasm, almost because when I arrive,

There is never any more projection.

This is the way. Here is this.

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Returning here, contemplating, listening,

An identity that is an unnatural boundary

Observing actions arising from natural tendencies

I tool intention. Joy is its flowing occurring.

Then no more and learning to trust still wholeness

Whatever is when there is no doing.

That it was good and of my nature in action building trust

And building trust for the stopping when returning

back from being absorbed in daily needs.

There is then only the undercurrent combined with the memory,

And years later, images expressed,

In the hall walking toward my quiet space,

I walk by powerful reminders.

Back to the artist, his custodian walks back,

For this the boundary contemplates, sorts out thoughts,

Then just a feather edge of wholeness, clarity, filling,

I know what I want to feel myself do,

Art is seeing. I want to see.

What, I leave to what needs to be shown that words cannot.

As a shadow, sitting in waiting, or dancing to express the body,

acknowledging there is no planning, logic or predetermination

unless one wishes to travel to space,

and then astronauts  deliberate on having an existential experience.

I can work tirelessly, patiently, possibly some arrive to those few glimpses,

But can have it right now, I am the boundary,

I am always here, even when facing a cockpit window.

If that happens, or with any external influence,

I shall use it as a bridge, to deepen beyond, further than a feather edge,

Until I am able to dive completely and disappear, or appear.

I serve my courage with images from my journey,

I can gently stare, see, allow imagination to fascinate me,

The more I relax, the more I am whatever I see,

Except there is a visceral sense of expansion.

I could use a flame or a flower, but my nature is to seek, search,

I explore, I am thrilled this way,

I am my minds friend, I do not trick myself, I relinquish myself in discovery.

My mind searched through events, planning and logic,

But it was only expressing my nature to explore, witness, see.

We must all have a nature, and I am grateful mine is not to think,

It is to feel. Thinking to arrive at circumstances that provide

Time and resources, personal space.

So I can use my mind in daily life

and there is a time to stop, witness,

Do, using skills in mind, patterns in body to express from my life.

The preposition I hold is that there is infinite happening at this moment,

So it must be possible that I am witnessing far away events,

Messages from the deep, my own deeper intelligence,

Memories of the past, events stored genetically.

How does a fish recognize a predator?

There is a picture of that other creature imprinted somewhere in the gene,

There is a scent of love, trust, resolve, laughter,

We know already, recognize expressions in context of each individual sense,

Besides, is it possible I am recording an unfolding somewhere else?

It is possible. Infinite events. Use your imagination, play.

Infinite events, it is possible. To bring something here,

But the truth is that all of this is going to end,

The humility to recognize oneself in the fascination and painting,

Because nothing will take that away.

While having so much to enjoy, blow my mind, as a reminder

Reminder during the workday, when eyes closed, during breathing,

Maintaining grasp of this space, its independent visceral sense of flow,

The kinder decisions made, discernment and highest principles in actions,

creativity entering tasks, keeping mouth shut, or making hay while the sun shines.

Not decidedly lax, or too rigid. Self based more in the sincerity of the timing,

And then lost in the fray,

Then the time, space, dance, painting, music, complete silence.

Reflection, fascination in seeing. All of these bridges await ‘I’.

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