a blissful day

lounging in the sun, quivering with the grass, getting lost in the blue-blue sky.

questions and answers

my brain has gone into overload.
not a good thing to happen the day before my exam.

the last week was spent studying cultural citizenship.
at first my brain loved it. it all made so much sense.
the division of humanity into haves and the disposable rest.
by retreating into the private sphere
we give up the ability to collectively dream
and create a common good.
market metaphors infiltrate our very being.
we close our eyes to the suffering that surrounds us
while trying to find pleasure for sale.
our bodies become the property of governments
rather than sources of infinite possibilities and pleasure
we fear the laughter of the other.

russian dolls.

unpack each idea and another nestles inside.
in the center is a small doll.
she does not like exposing her private self.
when with others she sees only her own pain.
she believes that it is up to her to save herself and others
must do the same.
she is lonely and scared.
she wants the government to protect her.
to be worthy of protection and respect she conforms.
everything she buys contains hidden within it
the suffering of many.
every time she buys it she helps someone
make a profit.
she does not know those who suffer or gain.
she does not know her safeness
and how it isolates her
from others who are unsafe, disposable, stuck.

i want to change but i am scared.

when i step outside
i step out of my self.
how did everything get to be this fucked up?
this machine we created is so big and so hungry.
how do i stop feeding the machine
without it turning on me?

i want to change the world.
i fear that the world is unchangeable.

which parts of my reality do i create
and which are created through a collective dream?
is it a dream or a nightmare?

how do we wake up?

we could go outside and gently place the doll inside a tree
and under the moon.

maybe during the night a whirl
of leaves will pick her up and swirl her around.

until the song of the world fills her hollowness

and allows the spirit,
which academia rarely speaks of,
to burst her defenses open
until light blows away the walls that surround her.

suddenly she realises she does not have to save the world alone.

we can all do it together.

Early morning light

hohum

"But what about that which cannot be known? What about uncertainty that is not a matter of incomplete, distorted, misunderstood, or mishandled information?"
Couclelis H (2003) The Certainty of Uncertainty: GIS and the Limits of Geographic Knowledge. Transactions in GIS, 7(2) pp165–175.

i woke up sunday morning reaching for my shoes.
the morning calls. i want to be out in the garden.

then i realise i left my shoes in my car.
arriving at my car i find the door standing open
my cd's, cd player and shoes gone.

i stayed calm
and start making list of things to replace and associated costs.
i go to the shop where i bought my shoes.
not only are they no longer stocked ,
they are no longer produced.

i freak out.
i am crying as if someone died.
my rational mind desperately reminds me:
"dude, they are only shoes."

but it is not just about the shoes.
it is about no longer feeling safe
in my country, my city, my home.
it is about no longer feeling welcome in my country.
it is about our world and the way i have no control
over the way the earth is raped, assaulted and robbed daily.

it is about not knowing
who i am, why i am here, where i will go and where i came from.
if i start peeling back the layers of my life what will i find?
a buddhist emptiness? an atheist nothingness?
an agnostic unknown?

does things happen for a reason? or not?

where do i find safety for those i love?

not having any answers frightens me.

yet resting in the unknown feels like a doorway.

a tunnel.
a clearing in a quite field

drenched in early morning sunlight
and frozen in time.

i wonder what is on the other side of this unknown moment?
and will i be needing shoes?

i miss you mithril.

before i could recognise a fear of death
i had to release my fear of life.

as a young child i always longed for release from this life.
freedom from suffering and cruelty.
from my inability to function within this world.
from senselessness.
i wanted out.

as an adult i saw the struggles of life
as something only death could release me from.
i hoped that another existence was possible.
one filled with the joy of spirit.
freedom from matter.

now i realise that all life is a form of evolution.
there is no distinction between prisoners of matter
and free beings of spirit.

after death
i will not merely return to what i once was.
i would have changed.
shape shifted into something new.

with me the shape of consciousness shifts.
every small breath i take opens new possibilities.

the final goalpost has not been set.
it is constantly evolving.
this realisation shifts my world.
my viewpoint. my spirituality.

and with it comes a new fear of death.

last night,
around four this morning
I found myself in a dream.

i was in a place of history and beauty.
sitting in the autumn sunlights i remarked to a friend
this place, these people will soon be
nothing but a distant memory.
a part of me experienced the fading of all that i love.

each breath, a birth and a death.
love and fear fills it.
like bubbles on a flatline towards the future.

the wolves,
florian,
my parents,
the trees i meditate under,
the blue, blue sky
me.
nothing but a memory.

now that i realise how fleeting life is
love seems so fragile.

i reach towards a new knowledge of death.
where there is no line of progression.
where all i love is inside me and around me.

joy. love. expansion. contraction. compassion.

in moments between my studies i have been walking.

sometimes my spirit looks up. an owl.


in my sleep we also sometimes walk together.