Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
It was in the morning, when I usually rise, that I went down the ladder in the loft. The odd thing is that I have no memory of slipping and a very vague tendril of recollection about hitting. That something pushed me, or compromised my grip or foot placement I am pretty certain of. Why? That will get filed in the rather large accordion file where all such similar unanswered queries reside. Late at night, in a bellows like fashion, this file emits strange musics that cause invisible entities to dance and raise the hackles and hairs of household pets.
It cannot be a coincidence that a scarce two days earlier, after being told by the man whose property I was on that he would be unable to continue working with me for what sounded like at least a month and which put me, by my calculations in an unwinnable race with the elements, I found myself in an impassioned exchange with the ineffable saying, basically, “get me out of here!” Next thing you know, wham shazam!!!
There's a whole lot of upside to what has happened here. I would have had to be at this thing until at least Spring or later of next year. Now, wherever I land, I can go right to my projects, which are what I'm about, while I'm here, anyway. It's too bad that the US is more or less out of bounds for me. That isn't a projection on my part, it's been a consistent feature of my residence there. It might have changed, I don't know but... the sheer spectacle of all the things taking place there is something to behold when in comparison with most of the parts of Europe I have seen. They say “things are bad all over” but they are most certainly worse in some places than in others.
For all the valuable information that I receive in my day to day, it seems I also get a lot of shuck and jive as well, leading me by false trails to where I have to double back at some point. Usually this kind of thing means one should just stay put and dwell at the center of their being but... when one is obliged to go into motion regardless then that raises the interesting dilemma, “should I go or should I stay?” Yet... one has to go. I've scanned the world in my mind numerous times in Visible's version of 'remote viewing'. It's a perplexing muddle of uncertain potentials and camouflaged dangers.
In the meantime, all the cruel and otherwise transformative possibilities of the world, shadow box on the sidelines. The wind, forever unseen except in its effects, shakes the fixtures and makes the shadows dance. Are they dancing? Are the fighting? Are they simply drunk and trying to catch the tempo of Nero's fiddle? For years now, I have read the analysis of trend watchers and economists; precious metals experts, environmentalists and all those theoreticians who operate out of some area of physics or metaphysics and who give us their take on what's going to go down. None of it ever goes down The month goes by and they are right at it again, prognosticating and making beans to buttons predictions about what you had better have in your pocket when the shit hits the fan.
The Earth murmurs, constantly sending up ground level commentaries on it's state of mind; melting highways in national parks, drying up the subterranean water tables, turning woodlands and brush-lands into matchbox tinder. Humanity has done its share. One of civilizations (if you can call it that) main problems is not knowing what to do with its garbage and in many cases not caring either. Most of the garbage generated is the result of the endless search for greater convenience.
Twenty years ago you didn't see people walking around everywhere with a cellphone glued into their ear and when that's not the case they're endlessly thumbfucking it. Twenty years ago hardly anyone had a computer and it was all Windows 3.1. So much of what predominates today wasn't even around, except for the tedious certainty of wars and oppression, stationary in some cases and endlessly migrating in others.
The vice of governmental and corporate tyranny keeps tightening. Everything else is more of what it was than it was and strange statistics give rise to the usual curiosities about why things are the way they are. In this world some are more genetically attracted to materialism than others. Their levels of involvement vary, whether the greater drive is participation or control.
I can see what looks like it is going to happen but it doesn't happen. It seems illogical and contrary to the laws of the cosmos that it will not happen. Sooner or later it has to happen, or does it? I consider myself very lucky in the sense that I don't spend a lot of time thinking about it. For some reason I don't feel like it applies to me. I've no investment in it. I'm just moving between the poles of two unknowns which may just be the same unknown accessed through a different portal.
Being in a hospital is an interesting experience. People injure themselves in all kinds of ways and they also come up against the certain end that is the result of genetics and experience collaborating on outcome. Watching the workers here and the dynamics of the pecking order is another fascinating industry for a mind that has a whole lot of time on its hands. People get born and die here. Sometimes they do both of these things in the same place.
It seems to me we are all waiting on something. We don't know what that is but it sits in the middle of the room, like some kind of large intrusive shape. You can't look directly at it, if you do it disappears. You can only study it peripherally. It seems to whimper and cry out on occasion, like it is in pain or in the midst of a difficult transition that won't be hurried, nor is it inclined to reveal anything about itself. That could well be because it doesn't know anything either. It's just hurting and it doesn't know why and it is changing and it doesn't know why and it doesn't know what it's changing into either.
Tomorrow I head off for another part of the planet (not that far away) where I've never been before. It's right on the border of another country. I guess I'm going to be subjected to a lot of movement dynamics. I'll do what's in front of me. I always do, pretty much. It seems incredible to me that I could come all this way through time and distance and still have no idea what's going on with me. I can look at what I produce in my day to day and that gives me an indication of my motivations and intents and those, logically imply a commensurate destiny. All I want is a tight little space with enough room to perform in and a door that leads to something wild not too far away. Not much else comes to mind when I think about what I might want. You'd think it would be easy to put something like that together.
In the couple weeks prior to everything going fugazy, I was getting up in the morning and meditating. It was very nice. It's something I enjoy but... just like all of the other times I've sought to make that the entry point for my day, it led to something unpleasant and this has happened every time in recent memory that I can remember. This practice seems to set off some kind of alert on the vast trembling web of interconnectedness.
I guess what I am trying to say in this less than comprehensive or effective posting is that I don't have a clue about what anything means. I used to think that I did but I don't. I have to believe that this is just a phase in the journey. Maybe my mind and all of its components simply have to break down into a state of extended quiescence. Maybe this is how the reactive mind finally gets harnessed. Certainly, greater serenity and tranquillity cannot be achieved until it is stilled.
Perhaps the answer is not to have any questions. Perhaps it's just a matter of letting faith take the tiller and closing oneself off to all speculation and wishful thinking. You can want something so bad and despite even a superhuman effort to arrive at it, you cannot arrive, simply because the time is not yet at hand for it. Perhaps there are still walls and floors and even people to bounce off of, until the spirit is sufficiently tenderized, or until the fire has no impact on the metal.
I'm not sure I should have written this this evening but tomorrow I'm off into the unknown again and I don't know what opportunities will be at my disposal. Anyway, I've little choice in the matter from what I've seen of this whole process as it applies to me. I bid you all a good evening and measurable success in your own journey wheresoever it may lead.
A get well Buttefly for Visible, sent in by Dawn, Pacific North-West USA.
Click for expanded version.
'Without a Clue' is track no. 11 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Color Ball'
Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World
- 'An Exploration Toward the Ineffable'
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