Thursday, June 23, 2022

Monica Dayakar ~ Are We There Yet?


The song, sings itself

Drowning into your own tears

All handholds of control
Fall through

A translucent mirage

Transparently beautiful

A meme-fied life, can at best be
Just that

Life shows up, as it does
And can look and feel like anything at all

All concern falls away

At some point I realised, that life... this deep impulse propelling me... had completely over taken me and I didn't even give a damn about my problems... or even if I was happy or sad

I tried for so long and so hard... to be happy

And this shift ain't about being happy !

That perhaps was the first inkling, I had, that it had nothing to do with me... personally

If I'd known what was in store and could have had a choice in this... good gosh
I'd have run a million miles
So fast
I would have left my feet behind

Not having any goal or outcome in mind... of how or what this is... or what to expect
Boy was I in for the shock of my life

I set out wanting to know the Truth... having absolutely no clue what that would look like or even if I'd recognise it, if it was staring me in the face

Having a preconceived notion of some sort of unending bliss... is the palliative dished out to the masses
An opiate
To dull the ache
But the pain doesn't go away

I had absolutely no grounding in formalized religion, or spirituality, or teaching, the words, karma, moksha, enlightenment, awakening, duality, even non-duality, realization...{ you get the drift } had no meaning for me

For that matter, the words, Guru and God, had no meaning either

All interpretations ceased

All demands of better or happier, fell away

These knots untie themselves

Beyond this... nothing is

Hope melts like ice into the ocean

And footprints of fear... can no longer be found

I stand on the balcony
The dark indiscernible from the night

And the light... from the sun

And find its all love

All love

Love itself... conceptualised

Fell through itself

Yet love was all that remained

Intuited unicity

Many believe, meditation or enquiry or grace of the guru will lead to the shift

It's like saying the tomato and cucumber sandwich I had for breakfast
Or the lilac dress I wore the other night

These may or may not have happened

The mind tries to connect the dots... and bend it to claim it as its own doing

It seems unfathomable to it, that it is it's own charade

The belief not only in volition, but also in a one to have it

Awakening is utterly uncaused

It makes me cry that people think they somehow have to be deserving of this, that is them!

Or they need to purify the body or the mind... or align their chakras or whatever BS...!!


There are no qualification requirements

Separation of any kind... even witnessing... is just that... imaginary lines where none exist!
Its like saying... separation can lead to unity
Any concept of oneness, isn't it

There never was, no one, nor two, nor nothing

A random response to someone's comment popped up

"If you are earnest and have an effective practice , there must be awakening sooner or later..."

Nope !!


If you are earnest and have an effective practice

Then all you are, is earnest and have a practice

The rest is wishful thinking

Including that the practice is "effective"

Is like saying that there's someone to get someplace

Or that there's even some place one needs to get to
From here to there

Like saying
"Are we there yet?"

Chasing one's own tail
In a catch me if you can game

A toy train
On a circular track
Looping back on itself

All effort-ing to keep the mind away from life

At arm's distance
Keeping life at bay

There's simply no escape...!

And here you are

Slam dunk

Where you always were

Ah... this intimacy
At once closer than close, even than your own breath

It was always your own love beckoning you back

When did I even want to run away
From the joys and the pain

From this gloriousness of being

And I taste the salt of my own tears
And it smells of the sea

And the fluttering of my heart
The leaves of a jamun tree

And the love that I feel
My own sweet embrace

A full bodied, Merlot
Drowning in its own juices

Again and again



~~Monica Dayakar



Tuesday, June 21, 2022

Jeff Foster ~ The faith and the wonder


photo Georgos Tsamakdas


I do not believe in anything.
I have no religion.
I have no god, including the gods of money, science and atheism.
I hold no fixed theories about reality, including that one.
I see heaven and hell, karma, reincarnation and the search for enlightenment as beautiful fairy tales.
I have no guru, no lineage, no teacher, and so everything teaches me.
I see doubt and profound mystery as my most trusted companions.
I walk no path except the one appearing directly in front of me.
I have no home except this sacred moment.
I trust nothing at all, except whatever happens.
I find no meaning in life except the fearless living of it.
I know that today could be my final day.
I feel grateful for all that was given and all that was taken away.
I see the inherent limitation of language and yet love to play with it.
I see the joke in using the words "I", "me" and "mine" and yet delight in using them.
I realise that I am not my story, and realise that even that isn't true.
I find it impossible to say anything about myself, for experience is constantly changing.
I find it effortless to talk about myself, for who I am never changes.
I know that on the deepest level I am profoundly equal to you.
I know that these sentences are pale imitations of truth.
I do not believe in anything.
I have no religion.
Except the in- and out- breaths.
And endlessly deepening



Sunday, June 19, 2022

Hafiz ~ Wings of Love



 The lily-perfumed wings of love
Will lay the dust of all your grief.
Patience my heart, and struggle on.
For when love binds,
It binds you to the tyranny of a racing steed,
And when love scatters,
It flings the soul-like fragments of the stars
Out of the ambergris scented woods.
Love makes of each moment an eternity
And tends the garden of the heart’s desire
When love mocks, ruby tears fall heavy as pomegranates
And when love looks, it sees your deepest mystery.
Love seeks out the tears of hidden hearts
And turns not from the Lovers of the Dawn.
Is there a remedy for the pain of love?
Or is it too unbearable for thought?
One taste of the medicine
And you will realise just how sick you have been.
Those who plead in the defence of love
In love’s judgement shall find grace
And to that court, Hafiz
May your heart fly…