Dog Poet Transmitting......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
First, let me say, Happy Easter, for those who celebrate it in that form and Happy Whatever to those who have alternative practices. I believe in Jesus Christ and so I have no problem celebrating his resurrection, even though I am not a Christian. I don’t actually know what I am. It changes at different times. I've been told that it doesn't matter what form I choose or don’t choose; or for anyone else who has located the essence before form and though the absolute has form and is also formless, as it pertains to this particular area; form is a blind.
I've been going round and round with the ineffable lately about my life and what the point of it is. I fail to understand why I get messed with, given the level of pursuit I engage in, which, from my own experience, exceeds that of anyone I'm in a close enough association to make a judgement from. Certainly there are those making a greater effort, I just don’t know them. The ineffable has cleared that up for me and I've been told; “just because it sometimes seems like it is going on forever, in fact, this is not the case.
I can’t complain, despite any number of things that immediately leap to mind when I say this. I have only to compare my life with so many others to see that, whatever the limitations and shortcomings of my existence appear to be, it could be far, far worse. The headlines of the day are filled with examples and there are locations I am not in, that given my temperament, would be dicey indeed. There are also all kinds of levels of unaware that I could be occupying and don’t.
Easter is a time of new beginnings, just like the birth of the season with which it is associated and which this year comes later than I can remember it coming, though it probably has been later at other times before. I don’t know if this is a sign of things coming later in this year than one might expect.
Speaking of things going right; I have found a good friend in the man who has invited me to come here and I was having Easter breakfast with him this morning and I was talking about signs and portents (I think; something like that) and he mentioned that there was a lot of sunspot activity and it occurred to me as he was speaking that this was a sign in and of itself because… the sun… the physical sun is the living proof, material expression of the divine on this plane. There is no life on this planet whatsoever without the sun. There is also a spiritual sun; Swedenborg talks about it and the physical sun is an extension of that. I know the sun regent as Lord Vivasvan. I'm sure he’s called by other names, other places, by other people.
It leapt into my mind that when there is physical activity coming from the sun, it is evidence of the ineffable interceding in human affairs. In other words, the ineffable is telegraphing his involvement in these perilous moments of human transition. “Help is on the way.”
I have this apartment… I guess the best way to describe it is a cobwebbed attic with zero facilities or amenities, except a wood stove has been put in and a small part of it has been insulated. It’s a big place. I will have a lot of room but it is an awesome amount of work. At present I am working at a head level of five meters up, insulating the place and it’s a bear. It’s going to take me a lot of time and I've got that. I should have it ticking like a Swiss watch come fall. It’s going to take every dime I have but I don’t have that much so I expect it will take more but… once it is together, all I have to do is cover the utilities. The location is fabulous and the fellow who is providing it is a prince and a scholar. He definitely walks the talk and there is no question whatsoever that the ineffable crossed our paths. He’s almost the spitting image of my younger brother Bob, which is a little scary (grin).
I've been hearing it from the ineffable lately; all morning I been hearing from the ineffable. This is the kind of place you might expect an auditory uptick from the ineffable. It’s one of those far off places where nothing happens, which means other things happen. I can hear better here. I'm used to a more concentrated back chatter on the telepathic plane. There’s a lot less of that here. I'm sure there are some marginal types around but my nature is to slip past them like a wraith because we have no mutual business. There are marginal characters everywhere these days, as the infrastructure of the Piscean Age implodes and that means personal infrastructure also... and that explains all the marginal types. That explains people going crazy and nations doing the same.
There is a point you get to if you are going the wrong way and… it is inescapable; it is inevitable. It is certain; you will go crazy because you have gone beyond the margins of what is correct, in the cosmic sense. This happens individually and this happens collectively and it will happen to anyone not already rooted in something more enduring; house of straw, house of brick, you get the picture eh? Sunspots cause crazy behaviour. You knew that, right? The wisdom of the ineffable is madness to those not in sync with it and vice versa; “those whom the god’s would destroy, they first drive mad.”
My whole life has changed and I’d have to say it’s a good thing. I let myself go a bit physically in recent time; stopped working out; spent all my time working the internet or writing books or recording. You can’t get away with that later in the game like you can earlier on. I've been here a week and in that week I had to put in some heavy physical labor. A couple of days ago I was despairing of my condition. Then the next day I was much better and today, today I feel great. It comes back… if… it was there in the first place. I'm hanging a heavy bag in the middle of this place I'm retooling and I'm going to go at it every day; for all kinds of reasons… all good. I am very lucky in having the affirmative and positive support of the man who owns this place. He’s working alongside me to get this together here. It would be seriously intimidating otherwise. Furthermore, he is savvy well past me. He can build or fix just about anything. I have some background in the construction trades but nothing like him. He’s a serious maestro. I've met a few like him in my time but... very few. Harry Ballantine, now in Arizona, (nickname) comes to mind but I can’t recall anyone else. Of course, Harry’s a tool and die man and you can’t get more savvy than that; left brain at its purest applied distillation.
This is Easter and I would feel remiss if I did not chime in on this, my favourite holiday; simply for its symbolic intent. As all that is good rises again, I am rising again too, into the sort of shoulder to the wheel thing that I am most comfortable with. Somehow the universe will deliver unto my needs and I’ll have a fine place for those of you who choose to visit in. It’s amazing what you can get done in a single day, if you’re industrious and focused.
Life isn't easy running into the wind but those who do, do it on the possibility and promise that the wind will change and then, not only will it carry them but they will have been made strong, in the former times, by the resistance factor of their sustained faith. Easter is all about faith. I’ll close with my Easter Poem and you can hear Patrick Willis render it if that is your preference:
...Or you can catch it with Erin Parsley and The Level Shift:
I Do Believe
In that essential stillness
that quiet endless hour...
preceding every dawn
of every day...
God breathes into the world of sleep
whatever power might be taken
that waking moment
in the warm falling rain of his grace...
In every year
whenever the wheel has turned
into the place where it must turn again
for want of hope
or lack of dreams...
God breathes once again
into the greater whole...
this soft malleable whiteness
this unformed essence of extraordinary love
not yet fashioned with object
it awaits our cleansed and contrite heart
awaits our innocence returned
awaits our renewing hope and certain will
that we might approach closer to the mark...
We have fallen back
upon the dying leaves
upon the sidewalks of shouting cities
into the guttering run
where flows the secret mind of our hidden deeds
more times than we can
every morsel of food
every chance of redemption
every possibility of hope
rests upon the bleeding power
that has bought and paid for every coming minute of the age...
Every twisted ugly thing
Every kindness unseen
every gentle thought
every whip hand falling
or whatever we may have turned it to...
all paid for by the living vision
of the one who dies
who is crucified
in the simultaneous instant of every act....
everything is permitted and fed
that we might, through the gift
of this unspeakably great thing
come to see how we might be....
and the certain possibility of that
for everyone of us
no matter how dark the way
how far afield...
is the 'ceaseless' intent
of the one left bleeding....
what freedom is
what love is
what peace is
we have no clue
only the yearning
and the road that leads us there...
Many have filled this void with words
Many heroes come
and seeming villains to meet them in their time
all sleeping now
in places deep and waiting...
but this one does not sleep
Is born anew in every breath
shines from each shining eye
cannot and will not forget
carries us past the trouble and regret.
In tongues forgotten he has come
to every race
in every time
dressed as everyone
always unknown and alone
this immeasurable gift
lays on the common ground
is tossed aside as worthless
is unseen among the items in the cart
it feeds us
grants us life where there would be none...
endless granted, giving life...
full and safe and perfect
I do believe...
Have a wonderful Easter and in following times.
I don’t think I can get a radio show together tonight; still not set up for it but we’ll see.
A studio version of 'Peace' is track no. 4 of 10 on Visible's eponymous
'Les Visible' Music Album
Lyrics (pops up)
Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World
- 'An Exploration Toward the Ineffable'
|Kindle Edition: $9.99|