Going to the Land Beyond Belief~Confabulating Oz

Becoming Aware of the Mind, by Andrew Gable

Becoming Aware of the Mind, by Andrew Gable

Thought persists, but does our belief in it, and identification with it, have to continue as a persistent way of living, albeit incoherently? Is there a gap in which to look and see–does thought really tells us the way life is and who we are? Or is it the very thing that creates what life appears to be, and all the changing ideas we have of ourselves?

Inspired by the book, Thought as a System, by David Bohm, I’m proposing opportunities to look as a group at the mechanics of thought, how it both plays tricks and doles out treats—moment by moment.

Thought/mind is a system. It has its fixations, reflexes, coherence and incoherence. It is in cahoots with the body, also part of the reflexive system, that appears to make thoughts evidence of truth, of identity–this opinion is true; it is mine; it is who I am. I know because I feel it.

Thinking in and of itself is not the problem. It’s useful, necessary, and highly creative. But incoherent thinking can be observed, and perhaps in that seeing, become coherent, servant rather than master.

I’m starting a series of group dialogues on the incoherent tendencies of thought and how that incoherence manifests as feeling as if what thought says were true, and seemingly coherent. It can mean the difference between being at war or in peace with ourselves and the world, which are one and the same–in thought.

Attention to thought is not exclusive to nonduality. Where is Buddhism, Christianity, Advaita, Zen, but in the objectifying, the structural nature of thought? Incoherent thinking impacts everything from politics, the environment, world hunger, family, relationship, and my/your life as it is lived day to day.

Perhaps we won’t have so many “problems” to solve, if we are able to watch how the problem is created. This ongoing dialogue could be thought of as a kind of “thinking school,” where the separative, divisive, personalized tendency of thought is seen for what it is, in the crucible of the group, from the premise of inseparability. One mind, not my mind and his/her mind.

There will be three 1 1/2 hr dialogues per week, to accommodate time differences. They will be held on Tuesdays at 9:30 am, and Thursdays at 1:00 pm, and Saturdays at 9:30—all MDT, beginning January 6th, 2015.  The idea is to look at this on a weekly basis until Toto pulls the curtain aside and there is less smoke and mirrors and more-kindly-old-man-from-Kansas running the show. The kingdom of Oz is not———what we think it is.

Having decided that looking at incoherent thought is absolutely separate from and more important than the money charged or the money to be made, I am changing the price structure, literally reducing the cost by over 50%. Because I do have to show up, keep track of who is coming,  send out invites, answer questions, update the website with developments, and other administrative costs, the price has been reduced to $40 per month, for 1 call a week, which will add up to 4 calls per month, 6 hours of dialogue time. depending upon the month. These dialogues will be ongoing, for as long as interest (and/or the tendency towards incoherent thinking) continues.

If interested in exploring and exposing the mechanics of mind through group dialogue, please contact me at Colette.kelso@gmail.com The book, Thought As A System, by David Bohm, is available as a downloadable pdf here–in addition to the link above. More details can be found on the Thinking Dialogues page.

Beyond the Yellow Brick Road ~ eone Film

Beyond the Yellow Brick Road ~ eone Film

 

Water Flows Downhill ~ All is Carried, Carved Away

melissa-farlow-erosion-has-created-a-swirling-pattern-in-the-rocks

Landscape ~ Melissa Farlow

It seems as simple as seemingly two concurrent and complementary processes: Unselfing and Recollecting Wholeness. Unselfing has to do with becoming aware of the mental mechanics that only appear to create a separate self,

and recollecting wholeness is becoming aware of what is, in the absence of that mechanism.

Thereby, unselfing facilitates and obviates the recollecting of wholeness; abiding as that wholeness, facilitates that unselfing, as an effortless and natural occurrence.

There’s no place for an objective state called enlightenment in that description. It’s irrelevant in the organic unfoldment of what is, or what isn’t.

Something falls away; something is thus rediscovered.

Erosion; emanation.

What remains after wind, water, and fire work their magic?

“The Great Way is not difficult,

for those who have no preferences.”

~ Hsin Hsin Ming, by Seng T’san

Seen; Unseen. Summer; Winter

Winter Spring Summer and Fall, by Gray Artus

Winter Spring Summer and Fall, by Gray Artus

Summer is the substance of things hoped for; winter, the evidence of things not seen.

So that what is seen in summer is not made out of things which are visible, but out of what is invisible in winter.

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This morning, seeing the spider webs glistening, the ants everywhere, busy–the flowers still blooming, the dog sleeping, breathing, chest rising and falling.

Last night, the spider  crawling on my arm. It was felt before it was seen.

I am in the web. Not caught, but weaving.

Nothing to Fix. Just Look!

What is paid attention is what is noticed. “Notice” is derived from gnosis. What is noticed is what is known. What is known is what is, is what you are. To know is to be, I am. Why attend to “the problem,” when the whole world shows its perfection? We have only to pay attention, to notice.

Our Eternal Slumber Party; Promises Made

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If only there were something I could tell you,
That you don’t already know.

Like in the night we lie awake in a tent in the backyard,
Flashlights towards our faces.

We pretend to be scared, but giggle instead,
While parents sleep, in a room.

We are out there with the crickets and stars,
Sounds and brights fill up the space.

We are children in a wild short night of summer,
Tentatively committed to losing…this.

That’s what we tell each other in that airy encampment,
Pinky-swear we will never forget.

We imagine boys, girls, cars, the Beatles, and houses with sticky children,
And scrunch up our faces, like grandmas look.

Till we fall asleep, somehow, between the hoots of an owl,
And dream of a time before Adam’s silly rib.

Someone, maybe a kind but unruly God, or the Owl Himself,
Puts the little rib back where it belongs.

Though we sleep, we never really lose ourselves this night in Gemini,
My twin. We have a deal! To remember.

You are always a terrible liar, but a great pretender,
And promises we keep, with imaginary friends.

Remind me of this starry night where we make it all up,
Never-ending, as per our agreement.

Together, we are back in that night of freedom and audacious crickets,
Where we imagine, to make a world out there.

You tell me; did we ever? Were we ever?

Context: Many Teacups for Sipping Sweetness

il_340x270.478965392_iar6In a prior post, I wrote, the “seeing becomes the teaching,” meaning that what is experienced goes beyond any teaching. Experience here, is the thing–not the context, the words, the method, or the framework. We can read Wu Hsin, the Bible, Adyashanti, Nisargadatta, or any contemporary teacher, and what we have is context, the shell around the kernel. All of this, as experienced, is outside of and in many ways, limited by, context.

What is the experience of watching a radiant sunset? Of spending time in play and foolishness with children? Of reading a finely-crafted poem? The intoxicating smell of lilacs? These are the true pointers. In fact, they are not even pointers, but the experience of–what seems to be something other than self, but is nothing but Self, knowing ItSelf.

Words may point to this, but too often the mind, or the me gets involved, a context is created and appended to, and the experience is overlooked. The experience of knowing the words, not understanding, but being in that place where something is touched, where any sense of division falls away, if only for the moment:  Seek no further. Continue reading

Olly, Olly, Oxen Free!

homeImagine having nothing to look forward to,
Random images called the past, fading, gone.
Imagine the speechlessness,
Of finding this here, without a word to name it.
Never repeating, this moment.
No other moment impinging,
Upon the sense of it all.

Imagine.

It is not a different moment than this.
There is nothing else.

Tag! You’re It.

Nothing Separate; A Visual Pointer

You’ve heard the words “hiding in plain sight?” All around us is the obvious, only overlooked. Somehow, we manage to pay more attention to all the pain and suffering, in favor of the wonder, the intelligence, the inseparability, of everything around us. It’s here, waiting to be recognized. We have only to be willing to forgo the seduction of, the addiction to, the drama we call our lives…just look around!