Out of the Dark

Cable Trail, Tiger Mountain, Washington
January 4, 2013
1:39 pm PST

Out of the dark,

head on the clouds,

confused by the light,

stuck in this ground...

Extremes up here,

limits down there.
Have I lost my free will?

I'm set up for the kill...

I measure my self's

mirthless worth;

I wanna smash it, and 

end it's smothering grip. 

I love these down 

slopes that pass me by...

They caress me and sing

softly of this life's why.

Insights silently served
like soft water torture, the

pounding drops mercilessly

shred me from within!

Can I end this 

self-inflicted 

frustration? 

Where do I begin?

But, I love it up here,

struggling, laughing,

listening to God, playing 

with the soothing wind.

So, I'll stay

here a while,

and befriend

this lofty peak.

With unbending intent,

I'll listen to the sun speak.

Perhaps joyfully,

I'll finally make the leap.  

Copyright (C) 2012 by Michael G. Hesley

All Rights Reserved

A Solitary Journey Together

My outward traveling poorly 

negates my inner worries.

It's just no substitute for

my solitary journey’s. 

No longer limited by space or time,

I leave this world's endless mazes, 

and travel through psychic places, 

without my senses or physical traces.  

This journey, I take inside of me...

Not searching, nor pensive,

and without my worldly connection, 

I see ahead a bridge of shimmering clarity.

Intensely, I consider the bridge,

and I ponder it's mysterious meaning. 

Is this ethereal bridge real?

What!? It's becoming something else...

This bridge is another Beginning, 

and apparently, another first big step. 

I've shrugged my yoke of fears,

so, laughingly, I just leapt!

Vivid visions of Creations!

Look! Dark after endings,

and Light from beginnings, 

like the skins I’m perpetually shedding. 

A Woman of White,

and a Woman of Green,

they speak to me softly

of scenes I may dream. 

Animals, people, and jungles,

and past events I’ve bungled!

But the outcome is different here,

all because, I've lost my fear of fear.

Love, and the melding of my Self and self;

I feel my former pain transmuting

to a golden state of wealth.

I feel better now, without my self-rebuking.

Ah ha! There IS more to 

imagination than meets the eye...

Come on! Take a chance with

this chance; please, give it a try!

Let your heart burst widely and

ride your spirit's carousel of energy...

Smile, and jump across your bridge!  

It’ll be the start of your splendid synergy!

Take a chance with a chance…

Could this journey change your life's part?

With a warrior’s intention and purpose,

perhaps, you’ll travel your path with a heart.

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley

All Rights Reserved

The Sounds of Naught

The drumming is soothing...
My soul releases me to see
the "as if," and the "what will be,"
yet, happily, none are "of me."

No excessive thinking,

I see shapeless notions.
At first, they appear as
from my basic emotions.

The thoughts are still

and menacing...
Black thoughts;
primitive and gripping!

But, I let go of my fear,

I feel,
and I listen...
Oh! How the sounds do glisten!

Hummingbird songs,

and The Eagle's cries,
I see their vibrations,
like words popping into my eyes!

The feel of soft words,

the music of child's rhymes,
the sights that I hear are
not from my normal line.

What are these

sounds?
From where
do they come?

"Silent knowledge is nothing but

direct contact with intent."
So, listen to your naught;
It is time well spent!

Want to share in the Silence?

Then use no self-reflection...
Go see your Sounds of Naught
with your Unbending Intention.

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

For Esther Mitsuko Oka… Rest In Peace... August 30, 2011

The Wheel of Time turns…

A construct of our mind,

we exhaust our self’s trying to

slow-burn limited time.

Preoccupied with death,

we’re afraid to live life out

to our temporal last breath.

Time’s a fickle guest at best…

Time stays too long,

time stays too short,

yet we exhort it to
leave us more.

A great serpent that

swallows its own tail,

time doggedly stings us

like a stepped-on nail.

Stumbling and swearing,

we complain time isn’t fair!

Time feels sharp, and we

try to defeat it, by more doing dare.

How do we slow it down?

Make love to it with need?

Cheat death with time?

Stretch it with Einsteinian speed?

Can we turn

time on a dime?

Please, stop the
march of time!

Dying ends time's brutal

march with death…
Can we mortals kick out
this untimely guest?

Dying is our self’s

way of killing time.

But, why should we kill

something so sublimely fine?

The Art of Dying is about

nullifying self’s demise.

My intention is to practice

dying, so I wisely keep trying.

Why fight time’s ending?

Why fight non-existent time?

Self is no friend to self; so Self,
destroy mind's time bending!

Let ego’s time go!

We’re spiritually timeless!

Let time go it’s own way;

don’t let the serpent beguile us!

We’re endless,

and we’re timeless!

Just like the serpentine

Wheel of Time.

Without beginning or ending,

and with purpose-full

unbending;
just let time go!

The Art of Dying
is surrendering and swallowing
that serpent in the Garden,

and existing forever,
for our ever un-ending…

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

Timeless Wanderings...

There are times

I think I'm lost...

Devoid of reference,

living lucid dreams.

All at high cost...

Creatively dreaming

of new existences

with immunity in

my Self's beautiful

and Active Infinities.

Directionless,

yet Boundless...

Energized,

and Focused...

I'm a Timeless Wanderer.

Temporal body

and Ageless Spirit,

Together, we channel

Knowing from the

the Universal Library.

Silent Knowledge

that changes stubborn self.

Self innately loves it,

but self hates it,

and makes such a fuss!

self says, “Don’t

confuse me with the facts!

I’ve already made

up my mind! Self!

Your efforts, are all in vain!"

But, listen to your Self

that Loves selfish self...

Feel the warm feeling,

of Truth surging down

and up your spine.

From the Pentatonic

chimes that mesmerize

with restless winds,

playing endless songs
of God's graces and joy.

Listening to the chime's sing

of Boundless Possibilities...

The songs I feel;
they resonate,

within and without me.

Chimes,
that sing the same song…

"Surrender, my friend,

and just

Let It Be."

TC,

Michael

Copyright © 2011 Michael G. Hesley

All Rights Reserved

Bridges

In A Separate Reality by Carlos Castaneda, Don Juan Mateus is quoted that "once the idea of taking death as a companion, it becomes a witness to our acts." He said, "when the premise is accepted, in whatever mild form, a bridge is formed which extends across the gap between our world of daily affairs, and something that is in front of us, but has no name; something that is lost in a fog, and doesn't seem to exist; something so terribly unclear that it cannot be used as a point of reference, and yet, it is there, undeniably present." The unknown.

Don Juan claimed that "the only being on earth capable of crossing over that bridge was a warrior: silent in his struggle, undetainable because he has nothing to lose, functional and efficacious because he has everything to gain."

In my the previous blog entry, "An Interesting Dream This Morning..." I intentionally left out two parts of the dream. I'm not sure why I did that, perhaps its because I didn't fully accept the symbolism of the lucid dream.  Last night, after reading Don Juan's comments in Castaneda's book The Wheel of Time, I realize that I should include the two facts I left out.  1) The castle wasn't completely deserted. There was a feminine spirit present who showed me the way to the wooden door and the exit to the castle. 2) When I looked over the edge of the spire with the ship perched on it, I saw something else besides baggage, clothes, etc. I saw the remains of people who discarded their unneeded bodies over the edge.

Those two parts of the lucid dream, bothered me somewhat, and I left them out of the narrative. First, I'm not completely sure of the significance of the feminine spirit. Second, while I understood the part of the vision of the discarded bodies, I wasn't completely comfortable with writing about it, primarily because I wasn't sure if it was a "physical death" of the body or a spiritual death of the ego. I'm quite sure now that it isn't just the physical death, but it is both the death of the individual human ego, and also it is the death of the body, because it is no longer significant to the spirit/Soul. Or, we are not our bodies.

I also wrote "Standing at the helm, I took the Wheel of Time in my hands..." I didn't know of Castaneda's book The Wheel of Time until after I wrote and posted the previous blog. I didn't know it existed until I did a web search for Castaneda about a week ago, found the book and bought it. I didn't remember mentioning the Wheel of Time in the previous blog entry. So, feminine spirits (think about males accepting their feminine side, Yin/Yang), bridges formed across gaps that only warriors (I'm a retired military officer) can cross, deaths of the ego and body, Wheel of Time, journeys into the unknown, etc., is just too much to be coincidence. Sometimes, I feel that its only my "over-active" imagination (to quote a friend) that strings together what my subconscious wants. And all of it seems very convenient now that I've written about it after the previous blog. But, I know with every fiber of my being that it is true. Instead of being slightly freaked out about the lucid dream, and Don Juan's quotes, I'm very calm about this. There is no return bridge. A-Z...

My friend Steve Kubacki told me that I've already crossed the bridge, and that "you just don't know it yet." He said that it takes time for reality to catch up with the present... Like a spirit who stays for a while, because it doesn't realize it's body is dead, but eventually even its reality catches up with it. Wow! Reality IS kinder than our thoughts.

And, I believe Steve is right...

TC,
Michael

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

An Interesting Dream this Morning...

Dreams are interesting…

A dream; no a vision of a story unfolding…

I was the main character in a struggle to climb a high, steep, and slippery spire of rock with a castle at the top.  I strained, I slipped, and I bloodied myself, and yet I was relentless in my climb to the "top."  Nothing could stop me.  There were many dangers, distractions, and false paths.  At the top, and after great effort, and leaving all behind, I entered the large unlocked castle doors, only to find it deserted.  Devoid of people, but well-lived in, I felt the spiritual presence that attracted me to see what was there within the confines of the masterly built and airy home in the clouds.  It was finely laid out, with tapestries, large meeting places, well-used furniture, towering bookcases, and great fireplaces.  But yet, it felt very much like it was a home, not a fortress of solitude.  Whoever lived there had a great life in the seclusion and safety of the castle.  It had parapets, armaments, a grand view from on high, and paintings of happy and pleasant castle experiences, but it was empty now.  Whomever lived there was gone. They hadn’t been gone very long.

I felt the energy of the spirits of those that lived there before.  They spoke to me...

Their spiritual energy called to me, and I was drawn to a small, and apparently, recently unlocked thick wooden door that was curiously left open.  Inside was a stairway that led steeply down and outside of the castle.  There were no lights or handholds, just the feeling that it was the “right way” out of the castle.  I walked down perhaps 100 stairs, and they ended at a wooden walkway across to another spire of rock with a finely crafted wooden sailing ship that shone brightly with white sails, and lit up inside with a warm heavenly light.  The ship sat squarely on top of the spire of rock.  No one was around the ship.  What a curious sight!  Why didn’t I see the other spire of rock when I climbed the winding path to the castle?

Carefully, I tested the wooden walkway, found it was sound, and I cautiously walked across the elevated path to the ship.  It was sunny, and there were bright happy clouds in the blue sky.  The clouds beckoned me across, and I began to walk faster, feeling that I would find something important in the sailing ship.  I giggled and laughed as I walked across the wooden path, smiling happily with the idea of finding importance within the beautiful sleek craft.  I stepped off the wooden path, and as I was admiring the ship's clean design, behind me the wooden walkway disintegrated.  Strange, I didn’t feel any fear, or regret, as I stood there with no expression, calmly watching the wooden path dissolve, leaving no apparent way off the nearly vertical spire of rock.

Before me lay the ship, sitting on its keel.  It wasn’t a proud ship, just a ship humble by design.  Before climbing aboard, I walked around the ship noting its lines, its functionality, and I noticed it emanated the same spiritual energy that was in the castle that drew me here in the first place.  The bright work was lovely; it shone like gold, and the wood was perfectly varnished with the painstaking love and care of a master shipbuilder. Whoever the builder of the ship was, the craftsman cared much about it.  The ship felt alive with loving Purpose and Intention…

Looking down the spire, I noticed there appeared far below baggage from travelers that looked like it was thrown off the towering spire.  The suitcases, trunks, and satchels were smashed, and I could see belongings of much “value” lying below.  In the piles of apparently unwanted things were the clothes of people who tossed them over the edge with their baggage.  Apparently, no roller bags full of attachments or human trappings are needed here.

I carried no baggage with me in my climb up and down the spires.  Just myself.  No food, or water, only my simple utility climbing clothing on my body.  I was quite comfortable on the rock spire.  I was quite warm, and feeling secure, I removed all my clothing and tossed them over the side with the other useless articles of human wants and needs.  Smiling, I turned way from the rocky edge, and moved toward the craft with my own Intention and Purpose, onto the walkway and the ship.  It seemed to glow with purity, energy, feeling, and intelligence.  I moved aft to the helm, and there on a bright, shiny engraved plate of brass was the name Deliverance.  A ship named Deliverance; I thought, from what?  I took the wheel in my hands, and it moved like a large airplane’s yoke.  It rolled left and right, and forward and aft.  This wasn’t a ship of the water like I have seen before; it was a ship for Air!

Exploring the ship, I found it a practical and easy-living place to travel to destinations unknown to me.  No evidence showed of where Deliverance had been, or where it’s going.  I felt that it was waiting for someone to give it a purpose since there appeared to be no pre-programmed destination.  So, Deliverance isn’t a ferry, Deliverance is a ship outfitted to explore the unknown with no destination.  Deliverance seemed to be only designed for the journey.  No compass, no maps, an exploratory ship that carries no baggage, or ties to anything.  No cravings, no aversions, no desires, Deliverance felt like Pure Intention and Purpose.  Just then, I felt what powers it…  It isn’t wind driven…  It’s powered by the Boundless and Endless Four Winds of Purpose cleansed by the pure energy of the Universe’s Unbending Intention.  Feeling pleased, I made my way up to the main deck, and I sat at the helm.  Oddly, the helm felt like it was custom-made for my spirit.

Why is this ship here?  Who made this?  Why now?  I sat near the helm, feeling why this happened, and then it came…

My Soul answered, quietly, silently, and like a cool gentle summer breeze lovingly caressing me; it said, “We made it for All of Us…”  "We made it with Self-Love of self, Right-Action, much Self’s self-forgiveness, and with Boundless Compassion for any who wish to Surrender to the Journey."

Standing at the helm, I took the Wheel of Time in my hands, and as I pushed forward with all my Love, Intention and Purpose gently filled Deliverance's sails, and we lightly lifted away from the rocky perch.  Together, we're propelled not from the what, but instead, we're drawn to the infinity of places of Great Beauty and the Great Unknown.

It was then that I woke up from the "dream."

Some dream, huh?

TC,
Michael

Addendum:  My friend Steve Kubacki says the dream is this…

"A voyage from the citadels of safe but unrealized and so empty grandiose musings into the vast space of unknown and risky realities, thereby delivering you from unsatisfying finite possibilities to the substantive peace, wonder and joy of infinite actualities that transcend time."  Steve does have a way of saying things exactly right...

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

self's Delusions

Politicians,

Professors,

Prophets,

and the Powerful…  

Pharisees,

Prognosticators,

Pundits,

and the Powerless… 

All have in common,

self-righteousness and 

bridge-less distance between
their self's deluded views. 

Science and religion 

still hate each other… 

For they are conjoined,

but not yet reconciled…  

Left and Right,

seeing with prideful disdain. 

Left and Right wants you

to suffer their self's pity-full pain. 

Powerful and powerless not seeing,
yet most with much muddled thought.

Seeing with only their senses,

and with their self's great doubt… 

Great People of intellect, filled

with much useless knowledge of nothing. 

Souls without knowledge, blessed
with the nothing of Self's Silent Knowing. 

Most not Knowing Truth,

but smug with knowing nods… 

Prideful with self-importance, 

yet lost, without even a notice. 

Most limited, and sense-less, 

with only flatness in sight. 

Soul's Boundlessness and Endlessness,

silenced by ego's malicious might!

Most are deluded, yet, 

their own delusions they cannot see.

For their delusions are their collective
sameness… Victims… Misery loves company!

Yet, some Soul's of Self's are 

silent with Clarity of Sight.

Their Soul and Self, have no

desire for self's-righteous delight. 

Do you know only emotions?

Yet, ignore feelings of Truth?

Ignoring Right Action? How long will 

you exist without Intention's pursuit?

Unbending Intent and Purpose,

unlocks Self-less Actions of Love.

Love's an Action verb my friend…
My wish is for you to Know this!

Why fight like petty people,

each with thoughts of self knowing?

Turn within… Can you see Self's Boundless

and Endless Possibilities glowing? 

Surrender and Undo
your self-inflicted damage...

Take out your trash! 

Let go of that bully we call our "self."

Go ahead, slice it all away!
You'll never miss it...
See your Self in a new way!
Try it, finally… This is a new day...

Copyright © 2011 Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

Poetry and Flying High

Poetry... I didn't know this until a couple of months ago... Not until I let poetry write me... Poetry's the swift kick in the gonads! It's the punch in the nose, the sharp slap in the face that stalks me and takes me by surprise! To me, poetry's emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and sensuously, my velvet jolt, and my giga-watt shock of beauty! Perhaps, I could even call it "God shock..." Poetry's the combination of letting my sweet inner silence and knowing deliver the electrifying jolt from my soul that keeps me on the path to Self-awareness. I just do the best I can... This jolt, through unbending intention and purity of my purpose, reinforces my belief that in this world of so much suffering and pain, that I can still feel and give love, and it's alright... Even if we receive precious little in return...

Thank you, don Juan and Carlos Castaneda, and Steve Kubacki...

Flying's my sorcery, my artistry, and it's really the most fun I have with my clothes on... I've had few inhibitions in flying, I've taken my flying to the limits of the body, mind, soul and machine. I took one flying lesson, and BAM! When I see something I want, I just go for it... I went for it! But, I never want to own it, just co-exist and join with it. I never feel there is a separate flying machine and my body. There's only the us, the we, and the melding of organic and non-organic life spirits... The aircraft is alive to me... Hmmm... Like making love... I make love with everything I fly and it loves me back!  Ok, that's intense, but it's the difference between a man who just fly's aircraft, and an aviator... The person who merely fly's is a technician, competent, but doesn't fly through their soul... The aviator is an artist, a slave to the art of flying, a lover who transcends method with their multi-dimensional love making style... Maybe I can take you flying someday? In a wholesome, and innocent way...

Thank you, Ernest K. Gann, Antoine de Saint Exupery, Darrell Hoff, and my wonderful Dad, who helped me know to go for what I want...

TC,
Michael

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved