Come June

It's the last week before the summer solstice and the frogs are in the trees. George Herbert Walker Bush is riding a cigarette boat upriver toward the heart of dark matter. And Miles Davis is hot in Paris playing birth of the cool.

My universe is self-awareness. What universe are you? I made this matter so by seeing through it I see myself as summertime and the being is green. It's not as much about the earth as it is the chemical between the rock and hard space.

Awareness reflected in consciousness is a product of the material body-mind like a Roman fountain is a product of its Roman conduit. This consciousness we dream is just my elemental gentle dreaming turned eleven thousand.

The only thing that's wrong is thinking that there's something wrong and even that's not wrong. For wisdom without compassion is like seeing in the dark without a light. It looks like nothing but it's not. The way of conditioning is in and love is out.

Craft Dreaming

Only love is motion and emotion is virtual motion.
When thought behind emotion isn't openly acknowledged
as conditioned thought but repressed

as if the supernatural does not approve of this in lesser ego,
there's either outburst or disease.
Recognition is a craft. Communication is an art.

Whether crocuses to mountain laurel
or the 4th of July,
love is not about the fall.

footnotes
there's no seconding this motion
and true mindfulness is all about emotion
maybe absolute midnight knows it all but each dawn speaks in tongues
god is my conditioning, my deconstruction, and my god
rain. statues.
intuition. expression.
spring is logarithmic.
words tend to obfuscate as much as reveal. figures of speech tend to illustrate as much as smudge but that’s the point.
tao te spring
 

The Country of Consciousness

Consciousness is this before thought and in the world of afterthought is like the unconditional love a mother shows to her newborn butterfly.

But to be conditioned to believe this love is for another and not my very nature, and this consciousness is a product of the brain

and not that amplification of awareness reflected in consciousness, is to be expected in a world of memory.


I was talking consciousness before being detoured by the mind—love is what I am as now is when I am as here is where I am

as consciousness is who I am if I am That. For consciousness is not expanding as much as thought is shrinking but it feels that way.

Listen, if the world is love being filtered by a world of thought, does the fire come from wood or that within the wood?

Mirror Country

One intuits this universal tale rising in body toward the crown of mind opening swallowing all in self-awareness

and the universe emerges from the same black hole which in evolutionary space-time comes to swallow it

for I'm the ouroboros of absolute awareness being self-aware. Somewhere around the age of two years old as I was told the age I am,

the body of the world emerged from out of nowhere.

And this world is populated by a wealth of mirrors in which I see my own projection but don't know it—

not my true reflection but the shadows cast by thought caught in the headlights of one love.

Oh the turn is not my doing but instead of looking at the world of mirrors for a slight illumination, I look within and see the light.

On the Nondual One

The concept of nonduality points only to this: the total manifestation, or universal consciousness, and the absolute unknown, or pure awareness, are not two.

Nonduality does not imply there is no one, but only that the one and none aren't two.

And before the one may know it's none in that divinity of self-awareness, the one shall recollect it's not divided.


As the mirror is spontaneously standing, mind is deconstructing, consciousness is loving, and omnipresent awareness is being self-aware.

I'm not crazy, mind you, consciousness is talking to consciousness.

Leaves breathe out what I breathe in. Summer is to green what winter is to gray. After lilacs rise the mountain laurel. When June be June.






On a Nondual June?

In other words, love and wisdom are not separate,

like love deconstructs, wisdom unites,

and all math results in unreal numbers.

In other words, deconstruction, love, and self-awareness are the holy trinity of ghost, child, and parent,

and I only pray when I'm talking to myself—

if universal manifested consciousness and absolutely unknown pure awareness are not two, why are you not being June?
 

Medical Consciousness

Consciousness appears to arise from the body brain so-called material reality because social conditioning.

But it doesn't matter to consciousness what someone thinks about consciousness. No thought survives that great leviathan of sea.

Such is the dirty secret of any meditation from whatever house. Moby Dick always wins.

So meditate the way you want, be it old school, new sutra of no thought, kali yuga tantra overflowing, paradoxical fracturing, devotional sublimation, consciousness is always stalking consciousness.

But here’s a particularly I am secret. The west may not be spiritual and the west may wrongly believe that consciousness is a secondary product of the primal brain and its materially energetic world—

but there's no confusing consciousness for some religious concept here. Except for Christian Scientists, even the most fundamental Christians believe in the science of the body.

Medically speaking, consciousness is consciousness. Oh the paradox, my local Mary Baker Eddy.

For as it is said, after consciousness talks to consciousness, no belief is worth the thought it's written on.
 

footnote 1. medical marijuana is medical because consciousness.
footnote 2. as if  i-am is the consciousness of death.
three. poor mad pip.
as contemplation is the whaleman's chapel
wu wei is on the loose
no six
7. belief in death is the greatest marketing achievement of western science.
the title came last i love it. mary baker eddy lived in this town for a few months. consciousness is why medical marijuana is more than legal now.
given, consciousness is majesty until disproven. western science, god knows it wants all funding to continue, can't prove otherwise. for before the big bang is a big black hole. and it's scientifically-proven! i am that, grasshopper.

Dreaming Mountains and Revelations

If every concept is a dream and consciousness is the mother of all concepts, is the goddess dreaming me or am I dreaming goddess?

That goddess is dreaming the goddess is the end of material history and beginning of the buddhahood embodiment of self-awareness.

For believing dream and denying dream are two sides of the coin of empire, but the antidote to material conditioning is divine imagination.

First, there is belief in mountains. Then, there is denial of the mountains. Now, there's mountains dreaming mountains.

And revelations is the goddess reminding the goddess she is the goddess in her own words.

As lilacs last in Shiva dances, a butterfly is dream and deity and summer, love.

Listen, belief, even ego, aside, I've been socially conditioned to disbelieve I'm individually universal. I am.

c'est le rêve ah maharaj

"That original state, prior to the arising of consciousness, cannot be described, one can only be That."

“This consciousness in which concepts arise is itself a concept, and so long as consciousness remains all other concepts will continue to arise.”

the world of war is merely
the cataclysmic result
of answering self-inquiry
incorrectly. of course,
there’s no correct answer
to self-inquiry, que
sera sera. and being
That is dreaming that,
this non-denominational
daily deity yoga.
for dream is just another
word for such a concept.

featuring the buddha of self-awareness

individual identity is the natural instrument of universal consciousness. as an omnipotent feature of the absolute, the buddha of self-awareness needs to dream a self and i-am is this buddha, individually universal.

social conditioning is a disassociative state and only empire or not-empire wants to kill the taoist on the road, sal paradise. mythologically speaking, self-awareness is darwinian acme or real buddha.

there's eight billion people in the naked buddha says the prophecy. if politics is kali and cult is krishna, then zhuangzi is chuang tzu. like listen to rimbaud without a point of view.

listening to the golden notes of a summer-time evening oriole. division sucks and one is old-school but three is being rediscovered. for three is the new ten thousand.

in the name of creation, destruction, and butterfly. dying bird song, nautical sunset, electric midnight tao without a god. neither cross nor antichrist but transformation, may dream be my mythology.

Dreaming Boat

comme je descendais des fleuves impassibles


Love is silence speaking. Thought is just an echo. There’s metaphor, mythology, and the power of three. Like white lightning, thunderbirds, a feathered serpent swallowing its tail.

Love does and thought redux. Imagine string theory, chemistry experiments, magic crystals, organic homegrown DNA, individually universal Buddha.

Third love is not romantic but non-empirical. Neither is postmodern nihilistic as one is not two. Lilacs blossoming, the last of the spring peepers, electric pear tree.