Showing posts with label don Juan Matus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label don Juan Matus. Show all posts

Monday, September 24, 2012

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. 

But 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

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

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

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

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