today is a bit like winter

In Austin Texas

 many of the days in October and November have been what we'd call a fine summer day on Orcas Island,
except there isn't that moist ocean salt water feeling in the background,

and that green lushness
nor the blackberry apple abundance all around

People in Austin could grow
lots of fruit and greens,
so far I haven't seen much.

Could put their clothes out in
the dry heat.
the old solar clothes dryer, aka clothesline
Haven't seen much.

Oh, well. There are cars and lots of freeways
and some amazing people
trying to find God, or great Spirit
or community
or dance heaven nirvana
or love
or their real work

in other words
it's just like any place
else
where real people
haven't given up
on the miracle of being human
beings

alive

it's good
Austin
is good

and from Thanksgiving on
with two very different,
equally interesting amazing parties
one full of love
the other full of creativity fueled by the
herb of aging hippie choice

good parties
and the weather dropped
and since then
real cool in the evening
not endless balmy

this isn't southern California
after all

harsh soil
sweet smell in the air
even if not ocean
too many roads, people
it's a magnet, a southern success

the deer look unhealthy
the people are beautiful
the waters are huge
and plentiful

interesting
interesting

and tomorrow I'm back to California
for 9 more days of training in the Anat Baniel Method

that'll take me to 209 days of training

after that, I hope to start being support staff
in March

so California, here I come,
back to visit Sonoma
and Wenonah

and Brendan

and a whole other cast of characters

interesting
interesting
to be making what seems like 3 homes

good

thanks and so on

the universe:
first void
then....
light
the waters
the world

first the void
then
the big bang

first the void
then
the sensing ourselves
the awareness

later,
the word
the naming of Chris Elms, and you you, and tree tree
nice
for chatting
pointing
loving

and a way away
from all the sweetness
of empty
now
knowing

you are your experience
I am my experience

right now

from the emptiness:
love
ease
discovery

who knows what

thanks
to
?????

for all this
miracle
of
being

yes

stuck and unstuck, good

Austin geology: Southwest Parkway

today's poem
is
stuck
in the usual place
we get stuck, mind, body, thinking, feeling:
the
this needs to be better
this shouldn't be like this
this arm shouldn't...
this relationship shouldn't...
this world shouldn't...

that place

a ripe place,
good poop crap shit
manure
for the compost of:

"IS IT TRUE?"

the good old turn it around question
the good old wake up
to God = Reality = who rules the scene anyway?

as a friend says:
when i argue with God I
lose
but only 100% of the time

and so
the way out of stuck
is always
"right around the corner"
but not "right" as in right vs wrong
that takes too long, too much suffering a lifetime
of agony

but the  right around
like nearby
right around the corner
from our stuckness
from our suffering is
the question:

Is it True?


Tis it true,
tis it true
tis it true,

Is this thought idea belief batch of blah blah in my head
is it reality
or
just
(sigh: once more)
the good old
blah, blah?

And the answer

Is "Nah," and we're free

or, "I don't know"
and we're in the world
of....

well: you look feel sense notice
....

what's it for you,
the "I don't know" world?


when you are in the "I don't know" world
and you don't have the story you "should" know

what's it like?

the verbal answer to that can even
be
"I don't know"
what it's like to be in the "I don't know" world
which is consistent, if nothing
else

and it's more

a lot more

because without the words
and with the question:
What's it like to be in the "I don't know" world:

 what's your experience

what's your experience
now?

la
la

happiness in the morning against the chattering brain odds in Austin

I "should" be less happy
according the the usual thought
suspects
me of "not making enough money"
"not moving the business forward"
worst of all,
not even being "enlightened"
yet

and yet,
i'm happy
and i can keep coming
coming
not that kind
but kind of like that kind
the release
of ahhhh,
it's ahhhh llll
right, right now

yes, just me
and YOU,
the big
you
the all
is here
in the
sweet old  always now new awaking game:

the bones hold up the head
the feet
on the ground
the eyes taking in the sky

light coming in the
eyes
sound in the ears
breathing
the air
in
letting the air
out

erring on the side
of simplicity

no need to explain
and label
and say
it

just feeling
sensing
understanding:
under
standing:

WE ARE OUR EXPERIENCE NOW

at a youth hostel now
not a youth
(is that true???)
I am my experience
now

that creates
almost impossibility
to not be happy

what is your
experience
right now


good

another happy, poem, is this permissible, two in a day?

can I write two
happy poems
in one day?

fuck yes.
and i mean that
in the good old slag bag hag
muck luck chuck tuck suck
ragpie mud slurp and slosh
joy
of English

and if this language
is not appropriate
not recondite
and properly obscure and elevated (French)
and ascended (Latin)
from the muck suck tuck
slog dirt bog

so sorry
the words are little pointers
to
behind
the veil

remember the child
before the words

do my non-body work
brain work
wake up to the now
of learning without
words
work

thinking as real
thinking
before
words

or just roll around
in the mud
dirt
grass

on the floor

in the bed

anything instead
of all
the clocks
and rush
and schedule and planed
activity

go slow
feel you
in the now
oh well
fuck the rules
grab the muck
slosh in the mud
rub yourself
all over
with the mush mosh mash
dirt soil ground
get grounded
in the down and messy
now

"it's all good"
is new age
bog
slog
fog

and true
without the words
between the toes
before the story of
"toe"
and "being present"
and "in the moment"
and all that muck tucked into
our
luck

fuck the day
as in grab the suck
er
by the
whatever
you want is not enough
but what you have
is
always
you
now

could be aware of
you now
aware
of you
now

alive

yes

impatience and a utube sermon: other people exist, what a concept

Impatience means that mean my foot is right here
at the edge of the garden
that's not good enough

I want to be in the middle of the garden
or all the way through

so i can't feel and sense and enjoy
myself here
because I have this false idea that
I won't be okay
until I'm at the middle or the end,
anywhere but here

The rush to move on
to the next thing:
a killer pull.

This utube


 shows a man entrapped in
hi his hurry and impatience
and then by
"magic" he wakes to realizing
that other people exist
and have
their own
issues

Now
if he could wake to the miracle of himself
in the moment,
that would really be magic

Blaming Others: Ain't it a temptation

Deliver us from evil, says Jesus.

Okay, fine. And what if evil is something like this:
being radically out of touch with our deepest and sweetest humanity

And this, of course, can be the good old fashioned rape and murder stuff

But, hey: this is "civilization,"
and here's how we most quickly get out of our humaniy,
out of love with others,
into separation and blaming.

With this story:
"So and so should have been different yesterday (an hour ago, last year,
you fill in the blank.)

And since so and so wasn't different,
then I have a right to complain, blame and tell others
about how bad/awful/ insensitive
whatever
that other person was."

To wit:
I'm good,
they are bad,
and I'm going to bore the crap out of you
by trying to get you on my "side"
about how "wrong"
they were.

When we get lost in this,
we are lost to the present,
and not much fun to be around.

Ah, so.

Perhaps then, that's a good time to
do the work
of ms. ByronKatie;

Judge your neighbor (already doing that in the blame game)
Write it down (ah, do some work, and leave our friends alone)
Ask 4 questions
Turn it around

The 4 Q:

Is it true?

Can I absolutely know it's true?

How do I react, who am I, how do I live, what do I become
when I believe the thought/ story/ opinion/ belief?

Who would I be without the thought?


It's a sweet work,
and it's work,
and it works,
when we do.

Ciao,
Chris