Face of Consciousness

2012-01-19T17:15:00.001-08:00

Through the great dance of relationship the “I” of self-awareness is born and nurtured into the “Thou” of unity and self-transcendence. The underlying motivation for this dance is twofold: self-realization through the reflection of one’s being in the eyes of “the other” and self-transcendence through the ultimate experience of love whereupon one realizes, as Joseph Campbell writes, “… beneath the illusion of two-ness dwells identity: 'each is both'.”
Through the reflection of your being in the eyes of your beloved, you behold the essential nature of your own existence. In so doing, you inform the world of that existence because you are “seen” and your life is witnessed through the eyes of love by your beloved. This is only a micro-personalized experience of the grander experience of “God beholding God.” For you and your beloved are one and the same. As you are witnessed, so do you witness. As you inform the world of your existence, so do you inform the world of the existence of your beloved. As the great Jewish mystic, Martin Buber, tells us, only through relationship can we know God and only through relationship can we know ourselves. I would add further, only through relationship can God know God and only through relationship can the lover know The Beloved.

2012-01-19T17:11:00.000-08:00

The nature of the creator of this universe is sexual. Everywhere in nature the erotic choreography of the courtship dance and the refrain of its melodic conversation can be witnessed, from the strutting of the peacock to the flowers of the field, from the croaking of the frog to the chirping of the crickets. Life is engaged in an ongoing conversation with itself; a sensual soliloquy of many tongues. The topic is self-discovery and self-transcendence through relationship. The language is sexual and sensual while the word spoken is seed and the seed given is word. The outcome is life’s continuous creation and the guidebook followed is love. But to love, you must become a lover and passionately engage the world in intimate and erotic conversation as though it were your beloved.

“Dance me to your beauty
with a burning violin.
Dance me through the panic
till I’m gathered safely in.
Touch me with your naked hand,
touch me with your glove.
Dance me to the end of love.”

(From “Dance Me to the End of Love”
by Leonard Cohen © Stanger Music)

2012-01-19T17:08:00.000-08:00

As I “check in” with my own experience of love and the many poets, mystics and lovers who have tasted of the sweetness of love’s sublime ecstasy and have been deeply wounded by the flame of love’s transformational fire, I can only conclude the following. To be a lover:
One must realize one’s worthiness to be loved and to love;
One must be willing to risk being wounded;
One must be willing to risk one’s self to be a part of something greater than one’s self;
One must be willing to be naked to The Beloved and witnessed by The Beloved in that nakedness and vulnerability at the risk of being judged;
One must have a vision of the heavenly perfection of profound relatedness;
One must have a burning, passionate desire to be totally immersed in the ecstasy of profound relatedness;
Because every being is the portal through which The Beloved is accessed, one must be able to recognize and erotically engage The Beloved living deep within the heart and essence of every being and enter into profound relatedness with that being and The Beloved within them;
Then one must dance!

2012-01-19T17:04:00.000-08:00

“The person who emerges from the act of pure relation that so involves his/her being has now in their being something more that has grown in themselves, of which they did not know before and whose origin he/she is not rightly able to indicate.” (Martin Buber, I And Thou)

Being in the sacred place of profound relatedness with another is a powerful experience, one that is either mortally devastating or spiritually transformative. When it is transformative, it leaves you with “something more that has grown in you” as Buber tells us.

However, to be a lover you must be willing to live in love’s world and be sacrificed on its alter of creativity for your beloved; “crucified”, “pruned” and “shaken” to your very roots if that is what it takes to be one with your beloved. You must be deeply centered within your own being and have a strong sense of who you are at your very core, however, to risk such wounding and survive. You must first know yourself or else all will be lost. The blade of profound relatedness cuts deep into the heart of your existence as it dissects away all denial, apathy, and resistance. If you are not prepared, it may cut too deeply leaving you mortally devastated, struggling to survive, struggling to be free from your pain.

To The Salmon People And The Salmon Eaters From Mack

2011-12-11T21:24:00.000-08:00

Last night I attended a presentation given in Seattle by wisdom-keeper storyteller Michael Meade. I went because I am in a bit of a doldrum, and wisdom (so rare in our world) tends to pick me up. It was an uplifting experience.

In oration and storytelling and song and drumming, he told of how our souls come to this life with a purpose, aimed in a certain direction, although we are sometimes unaware of that purpose. He said that usually there is a wounding experience in our childhood that stimulates and enlivens that purpose, turning fate into destiny. As he spoke I thought of how his words might apply to me. My wound was in being lied to, first by alcoholic parents who could not admit their alcoholism, then by a religious cult and complicit family members, and finally, on escaping that cult, by a world culture which does not know itself. Each time the lies sought to conceal the character of the very air we breathed day to day.

The storyteller said that initiation is a process of separation, ordeal, and reunion with a welcoming community that recognizes a rebirth of the soul and welcomes the initiate back into a place of belonging. How might this apply to me? My separation occurred at age 3, when I was fitted with a leather and steel leg brace to keep my right leg bones straight despite a disease which threatened to make the bones bend and then harden again in a disfigured state. The brace was mostly successful, as my lasting disfigurement is very minor, and could have been much worse. It is literally in my hip, as Jacob (another who asked for a gift as I did) was said to have been touched in his hip by an angel to teach him humility. I wonder if this is a reminder of humility to me.

But my bone disease was not the real wound, only an initiatory separation. For wearing the leg brace during my early years of socialization, three to six, created social separation, which Michael Meade says is a signal to the soul that initiation has begun.

My wound of fate is also my initiatory ordeal. Being lied to massively and intricately, more convoluted than the most complex Celtic knot you have ever seen or imagined. He says that next to our wound is our gift to the world, and that we have to go completely through the wound in order to find our gift and let it shine. My cult recovery process is now in it's second decade and counting. During this time I have completely reclaimed my mind from the web of lies, and am, more than anyone else I know, quite immune to them now. Since reclaiming one's mind is the greatest sin that one can possibly commit as per some of my siblings still in the cult, they count me a heretic worthy of death. This thought is wounding too, for my family was supposed to be my foundation in this life. There is no home to return to, even if I ever would.

But I have gone all the way through this wound. Some days I am even free of anger about it. Each day I try to deliver my gift by means of clarity and sincerety and alignment with the Nature of what is, and vibrating in the electricity and beauty of it, and I don't know if it is of benefit to anyone but myself, but I keep trying, for that is all I have to give. I hope some day it can benefit my unborn grandchildren so that they can enjoy the pure beauty that I have loved. My golden ball is certainly a treasure to me. Perhaps that is enough.

The storyteller related a Celtic story about the tree of life and the salmon of wisdom who became wise by eating nuts that fell from the tree of life into the pool where the salmon was swimming. He suggested that a life of wisdom means swimming against the current, as salmon do, because wisdom is rare in our world. So wisdom means struggle? I can relate. I have had to swim against the current for most of my life because I love and pursue wisdom, although I may not define it as Michael Meade does. He also said that wisdom varies for each individual, that it is creative and dynamic and infinitely malleable. I don't know if that is so. Perhaps.

But there is also another wisdom, and there must be another wisdom that we can share, at least long enough to solve our collective planetary problems. I suspect private creative wisdom, no matter how essential and helpful, may not be enough without a collective wisdom based on the Nature of what is, because collective solutions are required in order to survive these times. Somehow I can't help wondering if my golden ball is involved, but I don't quite know how.

To me, wisdom means the capacity to solve problems, like Solomon is said to have done when two mothers came before him, one with a living baby and one with a dead baby. When I first heard this story about age 3, there was a quickening in my soul. Something moved inside me as if I had swallowed a live salmon. I knew I had a difficult problem too, my parents' alcoholism, and I very much wanted the capacity to overcome my problem like Solomon did his. So that day I prayed to God for wisdom, the capacity to solve problems, because that is what Solomon did. I thought if it worked for him, it might work for me. (Hmm. Salmon~Solomon.) That was the day the eyes of my soul opened and my initiatory ordeal began. Had I known the ordeal would last so long, I might not have asked for it.

Like dominoes falling in succession, knowledge (the possession of accurate information) can lead to understanding (an overview of how things fit together), which in turn can lead to wisdom (the capacity to solve problems by employing understanding). But this succession requires intellectual honesty which becomes disrupted by cultural error. Since culture permeates, like the air we breathe, intellectual dishonesty within individual minds is somewhat proportional to the errors of world culture, and unfortunately they are many.

I pursue wisdom like the scent of a distant spawning ground because I wish to clear away the problems that inhibit the elusive thing I love which I can barely describe. I love the purest beauty imaginable, that pure innocence, pure alignment with the Nature of what is, free of artificial contrivance, which vibrates in the electricity of being, standing toe to toe, seeing eye to eye, free of the need for any contrived device, stronger because of it, steadfast and unmoveable like the trunk of the great tree of life, flowing with the limitless qi of the universe because of essential alignment with the Nature of what is. This is what this indescribable golden ball means to me.

Some might call it "truth", but that does not quite convey it, particularly where that word has been painted a different color through abuse. This thing I love is not some abstract invented doctrine from a hypocritical cleric, oversimplified for spiritual babes, yet masquerading as universal light. It is the ability to recognize and celebrate the beingness of our own Nature, to tune into a universal frequency that can free and empower us to reach our magnificent potential. Although I no longer allow myself to be chained by doctrine, I do still believe parts of my scriptural upbringing, including John 8:44, "The Devil is a liar and the father of lies". This is consistent with my experience, for this golden ball, "truth" or "innocence" or "alignment" or "sincerety" or however one might attempt to label it (despite the fact that labels usually fail), is that which connects us to our limitless power and divinity. Any oppressor would first seek to disconnect us from that, would they not? I don't know what the Devil is, but some unseen force or person has certainly taken this oppressive role in our world. Who?

Sincerety, above all else, is not allowed in my world, and particularly not for adult males. Instead, now and throughout this lifetime which extends along the road behind me, I am expected to be stoic and accomplished and contrive an image of stoicism and prowess, for this artificial image is what a man "should" be. And this is my deep emotional ground, being prohibited by the world in which I live from openly being and celebrating who I am, a world which, on the one hand pays lip service to honesty, but on the other hand rewards artificial contrivance and punishes sincerety in every conceivable way. We are not allowed to be who we really are, much less celebrate it. Shame, projection, and artificial contrivance are everywhere.

I have not yet gone all the way through this wound, and I wonder if there will be yet time to do so in this lifetime. It is, needless to say, no mystery to me why so many of my fellow men, likewise expected to be artificially stoic for the benefit of others, or artificially accomplished in order to receive a modicum of respect, more now in our gender "enlightened" society than ever, without a thought for their own humanity, do accede to contrivance and even exploitation in order to gain some sort of satisfaction, for there is no reward in this world for those who hold to nobility of character and sincerety of word and deed. Because of my "innocence" or creative maladjustment, I am sometimes thought of as weak, where in reality I am strong because of it, yet no one knows it. I admit it's not polished, but it really is gold.

The storyteller also said that the third stage of initiation, a reunion with a welcoming community that recognizes a rebirth of the soul, is rare in our world. Even though I discovered this soul journey he describes back in my teens, and have been pursuing it ever since, having been through three formal indigenous-style initiations, and many informal ones, that third stage still eludes me. For I live in a world in which community has dissolved, and humankind recognizes very little of what is real. And so even the most fundamental human needs that we all share, having a place of belonging and being seen and accepted for who we really are, eludes most all of us, because most all of us are too blind to see each other or recognize our common destiny.

I have at times been angry over this, but in this moment I am sad for my race, and I hold out a hand tenderly upon the shoulder of those who have never held out anything for me. We are all potentially so much more than we have been. May we move toward our beautiful potential.

The times that I came closest to the promise of being known and accepted for who I really am, that is when I was most alive; but it took huge expenditures of energy to reach those peaks in a cultural environment that either cannot glimpse my golden ball or projects familiar stereotypes as an overlay upon an unfamiliar sight. But even those peaks were a false promise, for no one around me whom I trusted with this risk, could really see or even wanted to, even though I tried over and over again. And now I am old and tired, and perhaps unlikely to spend that much energy trying such a difficult quest that holds so little promise in the current climate.

However the beautiful thing I came here to celebrate, I still do and always will. I love a thing that I have only tasted in the briefest possible glimpse (like Finn who touched the skin of the salmon before tasting his thumb) many years ago and now nearly forgotten. To love and pursue that pure and beautiful thing, now a wisp of a distant memory, which I can barely describe and even so doing, I describe poorly at best, my indescribable golden ball, is my purpose in this life. I wonder if my purpose is entirely futile, and hope it is not.

It is the beauty for which I live. Well although I have little evidence of accomplishment, my life is well spent still.

2011-11-29T22:49:00.000-08:00

Segments of Antiquity

Segments of antiquity,
relics of antiquated memories,
like hand-carved figurines
on crumbled alters
of weathered stone,
pose motionless,
silent,
stilled
by the
paganistic, pantheistic, hedonistic hands
of analytical divinity
and the blood-borne sacrifice
of loves lost
only to be discovered again
in the metamorphic ruins
of tomorrow
by the virgin hands
of an archeological dream.

2011-11-24T11:19:00.000-08:00

I’ve Known Love

I’ve known love
when it was cold,
when it was warm
and when it was sharp enough
to amputate my limbs
when I needed to be whole.

I’ve known flesh
when it was warm,
when it was cold
and when it was soft enough
to capture me in pain
when I needed to be free.

And I’ve known you
when you were sharp,
when you were soft
and when you were mine enough
to teach my limbs
their pain would never be free.

2011-11-24T11:08:00.000-08:00

Where Is The Open Door?

Where is the open door
I used to know so well
who’s latch was never closed to me
who’s path was always known?

Where are the satin sheets
that tasted of our sweat
on those nights of reckless passion
when our bodies heaved and flowed with love?

Where are the eyes of fire
that begged me to come in
and gazed into my soul
the moment we became as one?

The door is locked.
The sheets are put away.
Your eyes no longer see me now.

Love is such a strange agreement.

The Circle

2011-11-22T18:34:00.000-08:00

In western mystical tradition the point contained at the center of the circle is “aleph,” the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet and the I AM of self-awareness… the seed of life and self-aware consciousness that is defined by the circle to eventually expand to fulfill itself within the womb of the circle. The circle is “beth.” Beth is the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet and according to Western mystical tradition, is the letter from which creation began in the original Hebrew biblical text, because it is the first letter of the first word (“B’rashit”) of Biblical Genesis. It represents the container or maternal womb within which creation takes place.

The circle presents the maximal contrast of inside and outside, finite and infinite. It intimates the ultimate paradox: It is simultaneously limiting in its ability to contain and define, yet unlimiting and endless in its dimensions (π = 3.1415926…) and its expansive, recursive nature. Perceived as the uroboros (the ancient symbol of the serpent swallowing its tail), the circle is the symbol of unity and eternity, the union of masculine and feminine opposites as the mythological “World Parents” joined in perpetual embrace. As Michael Schneider states, “… a circle implies the mysterious generation from nothing to everything.” While the circle accommodates all of the fundamental two-dimensional shapes within itself and the sphere accommodates all of the fundamental three-dimensional forms (Platonic solids) within itself, the spiral accommodates the primary creative process from which all the fundamental shapes and forms evolve.

All forms and organizing patterns of life arise from the circle. Within it lies the identity of the Creator. Understanding it allows one to understand one’s self because it is from the circle one was born. As the great mythologist and psychologist Eric Neumann states:

“So long as man shall exist, perfection will continue to appear as the circle, the sphere, and the round; and the Primal Deity who is sufficient unto Itself, and the self who has gone beyond the opposites, will reappear in the image of the round, the mandala.”

2011-11-19T12:23:00.000-08:00

The War, In Twelve Words

"It is with great remorse

that we inform you

of your loss."

2011-11-19T11:50:00.000-08:00

Copulating With The Scalpel Blade Of Desire

I have copulated with

the scalpel blade

of desire

as it caressed

the warm, hot flesh

of my safety and security

severing

the calcified umbilicus

of my arrogant despair

and the intimate possibilities

that border

this threshold of love.

I spilled upon

the septic sheets

of my sibylline surrender

singly, wholly,

desperately

alone

with unending pulsations

of emptiness

until there was nothing left

but the stillborn vestige

of my freedom

and the silent cry

of my

singularity!

2011-11-19T11:08:00.000-08:00

Your Eyes, My Gaze

I'd stare into your eyes forever;

deep, endless pits

of beauty and despair,

of passion and sorrow,

of life and death,

of gray and green.

I'd get lost forever

as my gaze meets yours,

even when I look away

my gaze will stay lost

in your eyes forever.

Slowly we will move closer.

Mentally our souls will meet.

Using our eyes as a passage,

I will stay lost

in your eyes forever.

2011-11-19T11:00:00.000-08:00

So Far From Doe Bay

So far from Doe Bay we’ve come
since that dusky, July evening
when I first stared transfixed
into your fiery green eyes
while your slender, naked, nubile body
slipped seductively into the hot tub of my anticipation
on that secluded Northwest Island.

Within minutes, all else melted away
except those green eyes
and a familiar conversation
begun so long ago;
(absent of word and voice)
interrupted only by the splashing of your son
as he played periodically with your attention.

Even before our introduction,
I knew why
I had come to this place.

So far from Doe Bay we’ve come;
through nights of fiery passion
entangled as one
(the taste of your body, the sent of your heat)
to Sunday night dinners of garlic and wine
and olive oil kisses with basil and thyme.

So far from Doe Bay we’ve gone
since that dusky, July evening
when I first stared transfixed
into your fiery green eyes.

So far from Doe Bay we’ve gone.
We’ve gone so far away.
On two separate ferries.
In two separate cars.
As two separate lives.
Forever entwined in the moment of
one unforgettable hello
and
one
everlasting
goodbye.

2011-11-19T10:38:00.000-08:00

The Man Massacres The Concept Of Time

The man massacres the concept of time
as he sees it slowly
creeping through his lover's veins.

He cries out angrily
at the feeling of hate.
He sings out joyfully
at the knowledge of love.

He reaps and sows
the fact of evolution.
But drowns the myth
of revolution.

2011-11-19T10:26:00.000-08:00

SQUATTER

A squatter squats inside my house,

I give him shelter, bread, and wine,

I give him everything that is mine.

He spends the night and that's just fine.

I let him stay because he shows

that he is safe, and that I know.

I give him everything I sow

all my sheets and all my clothes.

And then the next morning comes.

He awakes, and then he's gone.

Just as he leaves another comes.

This one's family, a close friend.

No, I know it's not the end,

so I let him come in.

No, the bell doesn't toll for him.

As I greet this friend with hi,

he says "hello" and then he sighs.

What's wrong my friend, I must ask.

He says he's done and gone to die.

I say I am surprised, although I'm not,

it's in his eyes.

He says "farewell" and "I must go."

I say "goodbye, I loved you so."

The last time I see him go.

A stranger comes to my door,

not a squatter, not a whore.

This man, I know him well,

yet he is a stranger still.

I shut the door in his face.

He says, "That won't do, your a disgrace."

I open up the door to see,

the man has become me.

I shut the door and run away.

Things collapse and fadeaway.

I've run into another day.

2011-11-19T09:54:00.000-08:00

Solstice Supplication

In the dark,
the night,
of late December,
as the sun hid his countenance from human view,
I sat with my father beneath the scented boughs
cracking the shells of walnuts, almonds, and their kin.

His hands,
rough, muscled, and calloused,
held the precious seeds within their firm and gentle grasp
“nothing so strong as gentleness”
and released the life enhancing substance that formed my
young and forming soul.

Oh, Light of light; Oh, Seed of seeds!
Wherein lies my path?
Let Janus show his faces forward,
set me down, let your book be known to me,
let your word be spoken and mine ears be worthy.

Show me his face again.

2011-08-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

Anemia

This space between us,

intimately conversant,

has suffered too long

its poetic anemia.

Iron-deficient

without the meat of literary dialogue,

we have been limping through

life's hemorrhagic events

with seductive fatigue

searching for a rhyme or reason

for having no reasonable rhyme.

Enough, I say!

I am your hunter

and here is your meat,

blood-red and raw,

charbroiled in the heat

of my love for you.

Read it to your satiety

and digest it well

for tomorrow you will be

hungry for more.

I Am Sorry For A Bird That Never Flew To Your Expectations

2011-04-05T18:04:00.000-07:00

What do you do when the burning of the day

and the silence of the night

keep telling you,

"It's time to leave?"

Shut the door behind you.

What do you do when the home of your life

and the arms of your beloved

keep telling you,

"You are a stranger?"

Apologize for the intrusion.

What do you say when the jury of your peers

and the outcomes of your good deeds

keep telling you,

"You are no longer valued?"

"I know who I am."

How do you act when the bustling crowd

and the flowering garden

keep telling you,

"You are alone?"

Follow your own path.

2011-01-26T09:43:00.000-08:00

FREEING PROMETHEUS

“Each incarnation has a potentiality, and the mission of the life is to live that potentiality.”
(Joseph Campbell from The Power of Myth, 1988)

“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
(Ralph Waldo Emerson from The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson)

The Prime Directive

In the spring of 2003, I was sitting in a circle of professors and students from Bastyr University. As an adjunct professor at the University then, I was part of a workshop with faculty and students at the Whidbey Island Institute on Whidbey Island. It was a three-day workshop on personal transformation for the students lead by a few of us in the faculty. At the end of the third day while we were all in circle for the closing ceremony, we asked a question each of us had to answer. The question was this: “What is your primary responsibility to yourself and to your community of life?” Based upon each person’s answer to that question, we were each to make a promise to ourselves and to the community present as to how we would fulfill our personal responsibility.

Of course I was intrigued with the question both for myself and for the young students in the circle. As I watched their faces deeply pondering their answers, I found myself also lost in my own deep thought about the answer. Not just reviewing the weekend’s many intimate conversations and dialogues as I expected, but contemplating my life as well on so many levels. Just what is my primary responsibility to myself, to my family, friends and community… to life itself? Lost in this contemplative inner exploration, I suddenly found myself catapulted back into the present…actually shaken to my very roots from an answer given by one of my colleagues, Dr. Rowen Hamilton. Upon his turn to answer, Dr. Hamilton stood up in a very purposeful yet humble manner and gently, but profoundly said, “Above all, I have a responsibility to be who I was born to be in my fullest.” After a momentary pause, he then promised to be “that person” and quietly sat down.

A soberingly powerful and intensely present silence overcame the circle. The proverbial “pin” could have been heard; in the midst of this silence was a pregnant space spanning what seemed many minutes. It was as though the voice of destiny had just spoken directly to our souls. The simplicity and pure honesty of his answer left each one of us awe-struck and speechless as we considered the intrinsic directive: “To be who we are born to be in our fullest!” It seemed as if this directive had shattered all delusional constructs and preconceived notions any of us had about ourselves and what our lives were about. I could see the impact his answer had on the faces of everyone in that circle; it had stopped each one of us dead in our tracks, but why? Why was this simple, honest reply to the question posed so profoundly affecting us? Was there something deep in our inner nature, in our soul memory that resonated with and understood the fundamental truth of Dr. Hamilton’s answer? It certainly embraced some of the greatest concerns of human existence and deeper mysteries of being that have continued for centuries to confound us all, even the greatest of philosophers and theologians; mysteries such as consciousness and self-awareness, destiny and fate, free-will and predetermination.

The renowned story teller and mythologist Michael Meade, in his book Fate And Destiny, tells the traditional story of Rabbi Zushya. Rabbi Zushya was a wise and famous Jewish mystic and teacher who, on his death bed, was afraid to meet God because he was concerned he could not answer God’s only question: “Zushya, why were you not more like Zushya?” In other words, God was asking Zushya if Zushya was what he was born to be in his fullest. Why did this concern Zushya so? He was wise and supposedly knew all the great mysteries of God and life. How did he not know the answer to God’s question? Can any one of us ever know the answer? As Meade writes, “Every life must eventually become a revelation of itself.” Is your life “becoming a revelation of itself?” How would you answer God if you died today and God asked you, “While you lived your life, did you become what you were born to be in your fullest?” Do you know yourself well enough and do you have some sense or vision of your own destiny well enough to identify an answer?

As I further considered Dr. Hamilton’s response, I began to realize the primal truth of its directive. In reality, all any one of us can ever be is the person we are and the life we live as that person “eventually becomes the revelation of itself.” In other words, I realized there is no “right” or “wrong” way of being myself. I AM the revelation of myself! By virtue of my own separate, individual uniqueness formed and shaped by my genetic code, familial patterns, and personal life experiences, any expression of myself is the “right” expression because it is simply me being who I AM. Therefore, the only promise I can ever responsibly make with some sense of honest conviction is to be who I AM, or is it? This begged my further inquiry. Is the “who I AM” enough or is there a deeper meaning implied? Is there an eminent sense of destiny insinuated in the person I was born to be as opposed to just being who I AM? The essential question in my mind came to be: Is there something more I am to become other then just who I AM… something destined? As I explored this question, I quickly realized I did know one thing. “Who I AM” is clearly a dynamic ever evolving identity influenced by a multitude of factors at any one moment.

Self-identity, for any self-aware being, is constantly evolving and adapting from one moment to the next. It is in a continuous state of being formed, shaping and reshaping hourly sculpted by fate’s creative hand via a combination of numerous external forces and influences (social, familial, political, environmental etc.) combined with our internal reactions to those external forces and influences. Yet, I felt as though there was still something more deep inside of me, something constant and unchanging at the very core of “who” I AM… something of “my” nature, of “my” self-identity that made me unique and different than anyone else in spite of so many shared human commonalities and experiences. Further, I felt as though “the something constant at my core” is always calling out to me, beckoning me in some strange and haunting way, like a light house in the fog of night directing me through the perilous seas of my fate to some yet unseen but strangely familiar port of destiny only I could recognize. This is true for us all. In spite of our shared commonalities, something makes us distinctively different in our own inimitable way. If we listen carefully, we can hear that uniqueness as it calls out to us to follow its beckoning light to the harbor of our own particular destiny… to the secret place of our own particular gifts and individuality. I believe it is this uniqueness and individuality of life’s many forms, life’s myriad of diversity that makes life so interesting, rich and beautiful with its interplay of individually unique characters, qualities and species and its many exotic harbors.

At the time this workshop was taking place, it just so happened I was in the midst of writing my first book, The Face of Consciousness. I had just finished writing a section on diversity and self-identity. So, the idea of each one of us being unique and responsible to be who we were born to be intrigued me. It was fully in sync with all I had been studying and writing about regarding the nature of consciousness, self-identity and living systems. Every living system is a unique, individual whole unto itself and is made up of parts that are also unique, individual wholes made up of other parts, and so on. According to science writer and philosopher, Arthur Koestler, every whole is a part and every part is a whole, each unique. Since every part is also a whole unto itself and visa versa, Koestler referred to everything as a “holon.” He described every living system as a “holon” possessed of two opposite tendencies: a tendency to integrate as part of a larger whole, and a self-assertive tendency to preserve its individual autonomy and uniqueness as a whole unto itself. Could that “self-assertive tendency” be the “something constant at the core” in each one of us that calls out to us and guides us through the perils of our fated seas to the unique harbor of our own distinctive destiny guarantying life its diversity?

As the biological sciences have clearly witnessed, the more diverse a living system is (the more unique and autonomous are its parts), the more robust and healthy is that system. Diversity is a special form of creativity and appears to be a primary directive of life because it assures the maximal unfolding of all the possibilities of identity and relationship life has to offer. Life’s preponderance for diversity assures the maximal unfolding of the distinct and peculiar characteristics of the full potential of each one of us as individual holons. As I think about it, the U.S. Army (Who would have thought?) actually had it right: “Be all that you can be.” Above all, life wants each one of us “to be all that we can be.”

Know Thyself

If I AM who I AM and I AM a unique individual as is each one of us, what is the “constant at my core” that makes me unique? Is it my genes? Some might say it is. But, according to the human genome project, genetically we are more alike than different, even between different geographical and racial populations. According to research appearing in the science journal Genetics, “The proportion of human genetic variation due to differences between populations is modest, and individuals from different populations can be genetically more similar than individuals from the same population.” Research in genetics has also shown we share 98% of our human DNA with chimpanzees. 98% of our DNA is identical to a chimpanzee’s DNA! Not so hard for me to believe when I think of a few friends I had as a teenager. As a matter of fact, researchers finished mapping the genome of the domestic dog and the results showed, among other things, that dogs, mice, and humans share a core set of DNA. Obviously, it isn’t genetics alone that contributes to uniqueness. What makes me different from you, different from anyone else, even from a chimpanzee or a dog, for that matter, is something more… something of cumulative life-experience and of the deep self. It exists at a more profound and fundamental level than biology and genetics alone. It is something of consciousness and self-awareness... something of the soul.

When Moses encountered God as the burning bush on Mount Sinai and received the Ten Commandments, according to the biblical account in Exodus 3:13-14, Moses asked God, “When I come unto the children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is his name? What shall I say unto them?” God replied, “I AM that I AM.” I believe this name of God given to Moses by God represents the most basic, self-reflective statement of being possible. The word "that" appearing within God’s name, is a linguistic symbol for the universal phenomenon of self-reflection that allows the self to behold the self. It acts as the mirror reflecting the image of I AM back to I AM allowing God to experience God so that God may know God. It allows God to, as Psalm 8:1 declares, “Behold the magnificence and glory of the Lord” and proclaim “How excellent is thy name in all the earth who has set thy glory above the heavens.” As I have described with great detail in The Face of Consciousness, the creative, self-reflective act represented by God’s name is intrinsic to all living systems and is essential for the development of self-awareness and self-consciousness. It not only allows the unrealized potential of life to fully manifest, affirm and eventually witness and realize all aspects of its beingness, but it also allows each one of us to do the same. It allows ourselves to experience ourselves that we may know ourselves.

For any of us to be “who we were born to be in our fullest” we must first know who we are at our core on a deep soulular level. Of course, this takes thorough, intense introspection and examination of one’s life. As Socrates wrote, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Of course it isn’t! Without daily examination of one’s life, it is difficult to evaluate the strange twists of fate we encounter and the outcomes of our choices and directions taken in response to those “strange twists.” As mythologist Michael Meade writes in his book, Fate And Destiny:

“Fate and the soul are woven of the same threads and fate includes the strange twists that make each soul unique and each life unpredictable. Denying all sense of fate and limitations in life also means denying any sense of inherent uniqueness in the soul. Our ‘uniqueness’ is woven exactly where the thread of destiny entwines with the twists of fate.”

The thread of destiny is that light beckon that guides us through the perilous seas of our fated life to our own unique harbor of “who” we are to be. It “entwines the twists of fate” at the points where we are confronted by potential navigational hazards forcing us to make directional changes (choices) based on avoidance or confrontation of those potential hazards. Therefore, the story of who we are first begins to be discovered within the story of our choices. The history of those choices throughout our life is the map of our life… the fingerprint of our identity. Without such information, the perilous sea of life is difficult to navigate. To know one’s self is not an easy task. It is an ongoing process… a continual discovery and unfolding until one’s life “becomes its own revelation of itself,” as Meade writes. To know one’s self is to know one’s direction... to recognize and follow that directional beacon of light that helps us navigate the perils of fate’s entwinements with destiny so that we may arrive at the harbor of our life’s revelation of itself. To know one’s self means also to understand our choices, how they empower us to become that which we are born to be, or how they may inhibit our growth and development and impede our possibility to move into the fullest expression of our potential. As the ancient inscription on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi reads, “Know Thyself.” This, I firmly believe, is the most important of all life’s directives. Without knowing ourselves, it is difficult to be the person we were born to be.

As I sat in the circle with my students and colleagues that day considering further Dr. Hamilton’s declaration and resultant promise, I realized I do have a responsibility to Life itself, as does every person living on this planet or in this universe. Our shared, primary responsibility to Life is to be the “unique, autonomous holon” we were born to be in our fullest and to do so means each one of us must know who we are at our core and be true to that self by fully realizing its potential. Like Polonius’s last bit of advice to his son Laertes, in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “This above all, to thine own self be true.” By so doing, we assure Life its maximal unfolding… its richness, robustness and diversity. By so doing, we can live our full potential and assure ourselves our destiny. But, there was yet one more responsibility I began to see emerging from all of this analytical ruminating. We have another responsibility to each other… to each living thing. It is the responsibility to allow each one of us to be that unique, autonomous holon we are each meant to be by ensuring and encouraging the freedom of expression for each one of us to do so.

By the time it was my turn to answer that day, I had realized there was another promise I had to make besides the promise to be who I was born to be in my fullest. It was the only promise I thought could respectfully follow such a primary promise as Dr. Hamilton’s. I promised to encourage, support and inspire each one of the people present in that circle that day to become who they were born to be in their fullest and to refrain from obstruction or interference with their freedom to do so. As the eighteenth century French philosopher, Voltaire wrote: “I may not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it.” I understood that as I have a primary responsibility to be who I was born to be in my fullest, I also have a secondary responsibility to assure everyone else their individual freedom to be who they were born to be in their fullest, as well, even if I may not agree with the “who” they choose to be. Each of us has our own individual path and hidden gifts to discover and bring into the world. Each one of us is an unique individual expression of life’s diverse nature… of God being God.

At the moment I made my promise, one more thought occurred to me. It occurred to me what the “founding fathers” of the United States may have been trying to accomplish in the framing of the American Constitution. I believe they were constitutionally delineating the two fundamental responsibilities we have to ourselves and to each other: 1) to be what each one of us was born to be in our fullest; 2) to allow and assure all others the freedom to be what they were born to be in their fullest. The writers of the constitution were also attempting to construct the guidelines to preserve the freedoms and individual rights it would take to allow those responsibilities to be realized by each individual and the communities within which they lived. What a revelation it was to me to finally understand the depth of thought and insight it took for these founding fathers to construct the framework of democracy and individual freedoms upon which this country was built. I have come to realize these two fundamental responsibilities we have to ourselves and to each other are fundamental responsibilities shared by all conscious, self-aware beings.

Pillow Talk

2010-08-04T20:34:00.000-07:00

Is it always that we realize after-the-fact that which we have been all along?

Suddenly, we look in the mirror and like whom it is we see in our reflection.

Has the person in the reflection dramatically changed?

Has the reflection changed?

Has the mirror altered its perspective?

Likely not.

More accurately, it is that our perception has morphed into a more concrete sense of reality, aligned by years gone by, experiences learned from and hopes not yet realized but dreams continually alive.

I wonder…

When a flower blooms does it realize its beauty and the sweetness of its nectar?

When a bee stings, does it know the effect of its stinger?

When a baby cries, does it know the power of that sound over its mother?

We are so asleep.

Asleep to the world.

Asleep to ourselves.

Asleep to the beauty around us…the beauty within us.

Why be “normal”?

Why sleep walk when we are free to walk with our eyes open…

If we so choose.

The world is a place worth living in, worth breathing the air of…

If we so choose...

To see it as a place in which doing so is a worthwhile effort,

A place worthy of our breath.

Too many are wasting away.

Too many are turning blue.

Too many have resigned to virtual living.

The choice is yours.

Do you choose to sleep during the entirety of this incarnation or awaken?

Do you choose life…or do you choose death?

2010-07-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

What Song Do You Sing Alone?

What song do you sing alone?

What sweet and joyful melody

arises from the shattered pieces

of your broken dreams

when there is no one to listen,

no promise of approval...

no bows,

no cheers,

just you alone

and the eternal emptiness

of the long, dark night of your soul?

What dance do you dance when there is no music…

no step to guide you,

no tango or ballet,

no partner to hold you up

when your limbs have been amputated

by the scalpel blade of desire

and the only rhythm you know

is the pound, pound, pounding of your heart

as you find yourself “going much too gently into that dark night?”

The song that sings you;

Do you hear it?

The dance that moves you;

Do you feel it?

the passage of time

2010-06-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

but there were things
That covered what a man was, and set him apart
From others, things by which others knew him. The place
Where he lived, the horse he rode, his relatives, his wife.
His voice, complexion, beard, politics, religion or lack of it,
And so on. With time, these things fall away
Or dwindle into shadows: river sand blowing away
From some long-buried old structure of bleached boards
That appears a vague shadow through the sand-haze,
and then stands clear,
Naked, angular, itself.

- from "Trial and Error," H.L. Davis

This shows up as the Preface in the Oregon State University Press 1998 edition of William Stafford's "Down in My Heart - Peace Witness in War Time," first published in 1947.

The Gulf "Shadow" Spill

2010-06-01T22:36:00.000-07:00

"Man's task is to become conscious of the contents that press upward from the unconscious. When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate." Carl J Jung, Ph.D.

Oh, the metaphor of it all... the uncontrollable and unstoppable spewing of our own dark "shadow stuff "(oil) from the deepest well of our emotional collective (the waters of the Gulf) catalyzed by greed and empowered by the chronic suppression culturally of our collective unconscious (the shadow) for many, many years. This whole Gulf oil spill is the result of our failure as a collective consciousness to look at our shadow and give it voice. Hence, we are now forced to look at its ugly face through this metaphor. From this, we will witness the "black, tarry" nature of the egoic construct of our collective human psyche (represented by "The Corporation" or BP) squirm like a worm in the light of the sun and evade accountability and responsibility while thinking only of its own survival and gain at the cost of many lives and echo systems. As this all unfolds and as the "black tar" of our egoic greed washes up on our beeches and devastates coastal economies and echo systems, know this: IT IS YOU... IT IS US... IT IS OUR OWN SHADOW IN ACTION AS A COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS... AS A SPECIES. It just looks like oil and acts like a profit hungry corporation.

We will pay the price for this for a long time and we will continue to pay this price so long as we maintain a cultural "matrix" of deception which does not allow us to participate openly and compassionately in the shadow side of our existence. We exist as both Light and dark. When we do not integrate these two and ignore one for the other, we deceive ourselves with half truths failing to see the "wholeness" of our being and the universe. This disempowers us... makes us impotent as individuals and as a community. It makes us "herd-able" like cows as we project to the outer world (corporations, governments, saviors, religions, etc.) our power and allow those to whom we give that power to control us.

Aren't you feeling that powerlessness here in this situation? Do you like that feeling? If not, ACT and do something about it! Take your power back and face your own shadow side... the mythological dragon that needs to be faced and slain. Then, let's slay the dragon of our own cultural shadow together!

2010-05-20T23:04:00.000-07:00

The Shadow of Light

I came to Ireland to be alone again in some very powerful places... to realize again the deep Celtic heart of this land... of my heart and the heart of my father(s). I came to Ireland to heal a broken heart and face down the "beasts" of my own shadow and the shadow of my father(s). It was a powerful experience facing them both at the same time alone in the land of their origin... in the dark, heavy, melancholy and unremitting rain and dampness of this proud yet so deeply wounded place. Driven by my personal inquisition and the genetic beasts of my inner narrative, I found myself at the rectory door of a Glendalough priest and the conversation of a lifetime. I then began to understand the darkness... its power to transform things and invite the light... no, its power to demand of the light its presence... demand the light TO BE. Light emerges from the darkness... always overcomes yet contains the darkness within itself. This is the blood-truth of the Celtic soul. This is the blood-truth of life.

P. Donovan

Dublin, 2007

And now I watch my father die a slow death. This proud, loving man

who once held me so gently in his arms and in his memory, is now

locked away in some inaccessible corner of a deteriorating brain

tormented by his own beasts and the shadow of his fathers. He no

longer sees me, knows me, and I can't reach him, touch him, save

him any longer. I can't help the one man who so loved me he would

give his life for me. I can only watch helplessly as that meaningful

life and all it contained, my father, disintegrates away in front of me.

2010-05-19T16:41:00.000-07:00

Sacred Sword

Sacred sword against my chest,
tongue of steel,
sharp and cutting,
speak to me tonight of wounded hearts
in the struggle for love’s favor.

Who wins?
Who loses?
Who leaves?
Who stays?

And who dies alone
forsaken on this holy ground of broken promises?

Tell me now
so I can sleep just this night
or sleep this night
forever.

© p. donovan

2010-05-17T18:50:00.000-07:00

On Trial for Your Love

Tonight I am on trial

for the beauty of your love.

They claim I felt you naked.

But I swear I wore a glove.

And so I’ve pleaded guilty

in this holy court of laws.

judged by introspections

and convicted by my flaws.

They say you were imprisoned

by this lustful cruel desire,

to see your body naked

in all its flesh and all its fire.

But I beg for your forgiveness.

I beg for your embrace.

I beg to be released and freed

from the torment of this place.

Now I stand upon this gallows.

With no guilt and with no shame

for loving you without malice

for loving you without blame.

This hangman’s noose is welcomed

As it caudles my last breath

And I pass this night forever,

this night of welcomed death.

Please morn me in my passing.

Remember me to your kin;

this man who so once loved you

in your beauty and your sin;

this man who so once loved you

when you would not let him in.

2010-05-13T18:29:00.000-07:00

A 14th century introduction to the world as it may be seen from one man's long perspective; this brief note is from Petrarch:

You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes,

of those sighs on which I fed my heart,
in my first vagrant youthfulness,
when I was partly other than I am,

I hope to find pity, and forgiveness,
for all the modes in which I talk and weep,
between vain hope and vain sadness,
in those who understand love through its trials.

Yet I see clearly now I have become
an old tale amongst all these people, so that
it often makes me ashamed of myself;

and shame is the fruit of my vanities,
and remorse, and the clearest knowledge
of how the world's delight is a brief dream.

Why is struggle so integral to life and the evolution of consciousness?

2010-05-13T13:02:00.001-07:00

This was a question one of our good friends Steve, a brilliant medical astrologer and mystic in his own right asked a few years ago. He inquired with an already deep understanding of the nature of life's unfoldment. His question opened up an ongoing dialogue about the nature of life... The Source of life and consciousness and its nature; the paradox of light and dark, "good" and "evil" as our egoic minds define and experience such dichotomies; the apparent violence from which new worlds/suns/planets/universes and life is born and destroyed, the paradoxical "predestined-randomness" of life, and so much more.

Let's discuss!