Dog Poet Transmitting........
“May your noses always sense the presence of truth”.
Well now, I’m back a week early because the fellow babysitting the dogs had to go into the hospital because nearly all of his red blood cells have disappeared. We just walked into the house about an hour ago after a thousand mile trip and I’m either fried or bushed, depending on how you describe the state but I’ll write this as my way of saying I am back, even though it wasn’t what I wanted and provides me with a subject for what I’ll be talking about here, so, all things being some kind of equal, although I don’t understand any of it, let’s proceed.
I got to the house in Italy and Susanne and I worked from dawn to dusk for seven days and then decided we would have some recreational time and maybe do some things we might enjoy when we were informed that her friend had been taken to the hospital and realized that we had to come back; so it goes, so it goes. In the process of coming and going, I lost a couple of what might be called valuable items from the material plane and I just let it slide. They got lost in a way that doesn’t compute because they were right there and then they were not.
A morally corrupt astrologer, who might know what she’s talking about, told me that I would be having supernatural experiences the way other people have Cheerios for breakfast. Since all the other astrologers who appeared out of the woodwork; apparently because I was supposed to hear these things at this time, also corroborated this, even though one of them doesn’t even work by the usual western method, I assume it’s true and I assume it’s more true, since I’m looking at these things take place. I’m not going to itemize the weird and the strange since that will take too much time but weird and strange appear to be my new zip code.
In the process of going through weird and strange, weird and strange have spilled over into the moments and circumstances of those interacting with me and since these events are, ‘weird and strange’, no explanation can suffice concerning what people expect and what people get, which puts me in weird and strange, if you catch my drift. I’m okay with that; I’ve lived in weird and strange for most of my life. Most people don’t live in weird and strange and I’m just going to have to trust on my track record to act as an explanation that I can’t give because, well, because it’s weird and strange.
In the meantime, Susanne’s old boyfriend showed up to take care of the dogs and had enough hepatitis to turn him yellow but he seemed good to go. He’d been in the hospital off and on for several months because his heart wasn’t operating properly and no one seems to know what’s wrong with him, which is par for the course with allopathic medicine. I imagine it’s some kind of immune system failure and it’s unfortunate; certainly for him and certainly for Susanne who loves him very much. She’s visiting him at the hospital here right now. He was in Berlin, where it’s all state of the art and they were treating him, even though they don’t know what’s wrong with him.
I feel like everything is going to work out for everyone, even though I don’t know much of anything; I’ve got a wheelhouse filled with faith and the certitude that everything works out for everyone, even if it takes longer than most people want it to. The reason for that is a lack of cooperation on the part of the players in the cosmic drama, who don’t always see it as one. I’ve come to understand that everything that happens to everyone is related to their relationship with the cosmic author of all things and all that time involved, is the measurement of distance between the awareness of those affected and the presence of the one who is reaching and needs to be reached into.
It’s as clear as the wind through the trees to me, even though the wind doesn’t explain itself and one is left with the sound of the voices in the wind, that carries Nature’s answer to our questions, spoken and unspoken, because Nature is god’s trumpet, speaking in the tongues of the unconscious, as it rises into the plane of the self conscious, having been prompted by the author of all things. All of this should be clear as sunlight to everyone who knows what I’m talking about and as opaque as the mud of the material world, that blinds those engaged in it from the manifestor behind the manipulator of the appearances of the permutations of the one thing.
One tries to operate from one particular point of observation, which is constantly changing due to alterations made in the perceptual field of the perceiver; as well as alterations made to the perceiver, while attempting to translate circumstances that will make a different impression on every reader, depending on where the reader is standing, on the spiral staircase of existence and keeping in mind both the continuous movement of everyone concerned, while also keeping in mind the quickening at work in ‘this time’, in relation to all of us, depending on our degree of openness to it. Am I being too obscure? I hope not because this is as clear as it gets (grin).
I hadn’t anticipated writing anything for another week yet but here I am. I had hoped to spend this week putting the final touches on the next book; “Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World”. I’m going to do that and get it off to the publisher around this time next week but I’m also going to be writing for you, which is the only reason I engage in any of this because it wouldn’t make much point writing it for myself.
I look at what I do here- sometimes- and it’s a mixed bag for me. I don’t enjoy it and I don’t dislike doing it either. It just happens. My whole life has just been things happening and every time I try to have some kind of personal input into it, it nails me into one more condition of failure, in which my personal efforts are proven to be no more than woven moonbeams upon a sea of samskara. I used to mind this quite a bit and I suppose the whole point of what I am writing here is that I don’t mind anymore; like being called back the moment the necessary work was done in Italy and the loss of certain items, I just let it go and I suppose that is and has been the point of the whole exercise; for me to finally let go of my presumptions and ambitions and just look at every moment and every day as a situation in which I wait to see what’s going on and dance with it. I don’t know why it took me so long to catch on to what’s been happening to me for such a long time. I’m the guy who says that everything is under control and a whole lot of other things but then I operate like one more mask extended into the world, when I have no real connection to it, except for what it is I’m doing right now, or the various permutations of it.
A poet once said, “Teach me to care and not to care, teach me to stand still”. I don’t remember who that was at the moment but I get what he meant more than I ever have and all sorts of things are touching each other now, when they were just acting off of each other before. It’s as if whatever friends and enemies I’ve ever fantasized that I possessed, have suddenly found something authentic in one another in a powerful and inexpressible way that wasn’t possible before, because I wasn’t willing before, because, well, because, quite frankly, I just don’t know. It appears there are all kinds of, “I don’t know” and I was missing one of them, which had been operating- in its absence- as a reflexive, “maybe I do know” but I didn’t know about it, because it was hiding in the operation of the personality that I had been using as a transmission vehicle, without taking into consideration that it was not entirely transparent.
Supposedly, exactly on my coming birthday, certain possibilities will be at the highest potential they have ever been for me and this is being echoed by all of those who have been engaged in interpreting my chart, which comes to about 6 of them, give or take and I’ve known about this event which has been coming for a long time so, it’s not a surprise, though the event will surely be and it may or may not be precise but it’s inevitable. I’ve come to understand that nothing prevents it but us and that it becomes definite and immediate (cosmically speaking) the moment that nothing else has any more meaning or value. It’s a curious feature of our deluded humanity that we don’t get the glaring fact that everything is based on the one thing that is obscured by our misidentification of it with anything other than it. That’s all that keeps us hanging around and repeating ourselves. The moment we catch on, the sum of all of our desires are delivered to our doorstep, for the enjoyment of the principle, in the most complete and profound ways that we have never managed to experience, while we were someone other than the supreme enjoyer of everything. Would that I had the words to elaborate on this but that’s not possible and never will be.
I don’t want to confuse the issue with talk about astrologers and the implication of understanding what is meant by, ‘no man knows the hour of his coming” but then, it’s been here all the time anyway and I imagine that some extended period, filled with peals of laughter, follows upon the dawning of the simplest thing in the world. I think Ho Tail embodies that as much as anyone. Please forgive my poor attempt to make sense out of this, given that it exists beyond the bounds of reason and given that madness is a prerequisite. The one thing I’m sure of is that it all works out and that we are all more OK and blessed than we can imagine. The only thing blocking our full appreciation of that is us.
Lyrics (pops up)