[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Sunday, January 19th, 2003|
|Reflections on what rallies
Yesterday, while at work, I stood at a window on the fourth floor of the San Francisco Main Library watching what may have been 200,000 people pouring like lava-flow into the Civic Center. Marchers having walked several miles - for peace; against this war; and for racial and political civility in our land and government - slowly poured into the several block wide plaza spilling as well into the 'ordinary' space of all the surrounding blocks.
Perched from above we watched a blank canvas slowly paint itself with multi-hues as Beings of intention. The day was clear and pleasant to the senses and so it seemed was the ambiance of the participators. As I walked amidst the crowd, listening to celebrities (Martin Sheen) speak and two peace divas (Joan Baez, Bonnie Raitt) sing, I was an anonymous traveler amidst the diversity of our species. And it was good.. both the anonymity and the inclusivity.
Here amidst the vibrant presentation of the spectrum of individuality was also a more vibrant pulsation of That which does not divide. The singularity of Love for country, family, world beings, planetary environment, and diversity was the touchstone grounding awareness perceived. I wondered, what might it be like if someone took the podium asking for a few silent minutes beyond rhetoric, positions, intentions, and emotions to notice the core pulsation of what was unnamable yet palpably perceivable in that moment as grace.
It seems many who are attending such movements are on the precipice of realizing that what is arising in them is more than ideas and feelings. What would it take to nudge a large collective over the perspective edge of duality into the aperspectival empty-full heart? That might be nondual activism.
|Sunday, March 10th, 2002|
Once there was a young girl.. looking to her future.. saw a barely visible narrow gossamer thread, leading she knew not where. She grabbed hold and went on a wild ride. A warp of colors, textures, patterns, lights and empty space. Weft spun of grace and sorrow, some tapestries merely a tangled web of denser threads. Slowly and patiently, as it took years, the light of the gossamer warp distinguished Itself and began to extinguish the tangled density . Now, gossamer thread resting gently on open palm, offers deLight at being led to you.
|Friday, July 21st, 2000|
I find that I have entered a bit of a sober state. I think that the weekend is
working through me as counterpoint. I have found stark awareness of my
fundamental aloneness. Not loneliness.. but aloneness. I suppose, I tend to
seek aloneness. Yet, it has a more poignant flavor right now.
an echo inquiry into what is real?
|Sunday, June 25th, 2000|
It's wild in the city tonight. Tomorrow is the Gay Lesbian Transvestite Transgender Freedom Day Parade.. phew.. aka Pride parade. Thousands of
folk from all over the world are gathered.. traffic is bizarre at midnight. As I left for work, I passed two guys dressed only in leather
chaps (you know.. the ones where your buns hang out) and facial feathers.. and they were chained to each other. A small sampling of tomorrows fete. Tomorrow they all gather at Civic Center plaza.. across from the library.. I guess they'll clear out the many homeless who sleep on thestreet and sidewalks surrounding the library. Juxtaposition of freedom and the lack of same.. what a bizarre world we live in... or I do. Sometimes I think about how we, who live here, become so used to the
various eccentricities that we barely notice them. A few weeks ago, I told a friend about standing in line in Walgreens, behind a bizarrely dressed hetero couple in black leather, chiffon, multi piercings and tattooed heads.. and in front of two quite attractive transvestites. Sometimes it feels as though it is my relative ordinariness which stands out! Keeps life light.
|Sunday, June 18th, 2000|
Elders are showing up in my life, in serendipitous ways. Two such people have emerged in the past months, as a consequence of one of my hats of telephone reference. Tom and Claudia showed up on the exact day several months ago. Both are elderly and relatively homebound. Both moved me to go the extra distance. Tom is a poet, a scholar, a refined gentleman of the old school. He reads me a poem in service to what I offer. His poems and his stammering vulnerable voice, touch my heart, time stands still and tears well up. Claudia, I have learned, is a former nun and has written a treatise being reviewed by the Pope. Both are keenly intelligent. Both are deeply religious in Christian orientation.. with Tom also studying Existentialism. I had not heard from either for a while and again.. both showed up the exact same day on our second meeting. I feel that I am with family members. Of the thousands of people I interact with each week.. these deep affinities are rare. Yesterday, Tom told me that he'd had a minor heart attack and was just home from the hospital. He read me a poem inspired by his recent travail. It spoke of the revelation that meeting God is less a function of turning inward and more a fact of becoming alive in greeting what shows up in one's outer life. Then again.. the third time.. Claudia also called and told me of an Internet business venture she is exploring and said that she was moved to ask me if I'd consider becoming a partner with her. She needs someone who is versed with technology. Today we met. What an interesting and lovely octogenarian. I saw in her my three most loved, no longer living in body, elder women.. my mom, my grandmother and my dear friend Irene.
These meetings are no small thing for me. Both Tom and Claudia are reminding me of the movement of time. Both in terms of temporal time of the body, as well as rhythmic time of pacing. I meet this as tension within.. a certain facet of my rhythm which seeks quicker dialogue. That is not their retired rhythm.. they talk as if time is all they had. I notice my tendency to think "I have to go now".. then catch myself.. "go where?".. this is Now. So, I downshift and open into a rhythm of allowance.. not bounded by the next piece which thinks it needs to be done. What a teaching this is for me. I feel very blessed by their entry into my life.
|Friday, June 16th, 2000|
Oriana's engagement has stirred many rhythms within the symphony of my heart. The grace and responsibility of carrying a body/being within my own, is a covenant through lifetimes. She, perched now, on the precipice of her adult life... graduated, employed and within a year to be married. She, perched always, on the precipice of my heart... released from fledgling bondage to soar on the currents Life breathes her way. The nest, which is my heart, smiles her freedom. The resting, which is our Heart, now is joined by another. Care tenderly, Tony.. this lovely gift you've been given. Love openly, Oriana, from the roots of those who seeded the edges of your garden.
|Thursday, June 15th, 2000|
Had a long talk at work today, with my friend
Jerry (Roth) about this journal process. Listening
to the mental noise which obfuscates the deeper
flow. Exploring the potential for intertextual intercourse.
Each journal entry as thread laid down as warp,
Others standing on the side of my loom with the texture
of their weft threads woven silently or audibly into
Might One voice emerge from the large loom of Life?
My practice moves in the direction of observing
the 'who' who thinks they are. Am I this private person?
Am I this public person? That is one facet to explore.
Yet, of deeper interest for me is the potential to listen, and
perhaps write from the place where private and public are
not on the screen.. or... are not what is attended to.
Something about this process seems kind of extroverted
narcissistic.. or perhaps, I'm just feeling that way about writing in
general. I can't seem to escape the sense of self-indulgence.
|Wednesday, June 14th, 2000|
It was 103 degrees to day in San Francisco. It never is 103 degrees here (only once before in history). Our living/working boxes are not equipped for this heat. Our bodies are not acclimated. I returned home to a sauna.
As I've been studying and aligning with Gene's and Dave's posts about power and the loss of heat, when an entity is out of tune.. this addition of physical malaise enters the soup of observation. Entering the question of attunement and personality as 'circuit-breaker' or default of dissonance.. I am called to be still and observe the momentum of discomfort.
more words.. given no import.
(I hesitate to send this.. odd to write to no one.. juxtaposed with being visible to someone) I'll proceed with this as experiment of inquiry/
I sat with Dan.. and in one flashing moment.. the space between the me who was speaking.. and the covering-of-the-eyeball-screen, which *that me* thought it was perceiving, collapsed.
I thought of the title "the distance from the heart of things" and knew.. no distance from Heart.