Unity Of Existence

 

In pure moments of being, I perceive behind the veil of the material world in the realm of non-duality, or oneness. Here, love reigns supreme. Unity rules the real existence.

During periods of high creativity, I am able to let go of selfishness so as to merge completely and seamlessly with the whole. While painting, time vanishes, the joy of process takes over, and as the picture takes shape, surprises occur as if I am not in control at all. The best photography occurs when I lose everything that is a barrier between me and the subject. In writing, ego must fall, so that I am not writing with an eye to myself; rather the process unfolds on its own.

When meeting anyone new, I love being in this space of oneness. As if to say, “I have no judgement of you, we come from the same dust, created by the same Hand. I remember you—a friend from before this existence. We met on the shores of dawn.” Thus, I can look in the face of a foreigner and see a fellow being I have known all my life.
A king is my brother, same as a pauper. A person of a different color, with different features and dress—no matter, I combine just as well with them as with one of my own kind.



There are limitations. My body is not so quick to lose itself. It has adapted in certain environments. It has learned to be friendly with some elements and not friendly with others. Experience says it does not like hot, humid jungles. It reacts violently to some contamination in water in foreign lands that those people are immune to (India) . It is repelled by certain foods that other people eat—such as spiders (Cambodia). I can’t help that.

I have been in all these situations and appreciate them as part of the fabric of life. Behind all is the unity of existence.

Along The Way

We are slowed down sound and light waves, a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos. We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play their music.    -Albert Einstein

I have been home for two weeks now, and the sights and sounds of the previous two months continue to reverberate in my being. The photographs I took, the paintings and writings, all testify to my soul journey.

This blog is over ten years old now, with 582 posts to date. It is a book—a record with photos.

So many experiences in life are bound to be buried. Little surprises that happened along the way come to life with pictures or writing.

Like this. I was walking in Paris on the left bank, heading back to my hotel in Saint-Germaine. I came to a woman in a wheelchair, surrounded by pigeons she was feeding. It was cold, and she was wearing tennis shoes. An oversized beige beret sat on her head. When our gaze met, she smiled warmly with light in her eyes. I wondered about her life and circumstances, and asked to take her picture. She had no pretensions and to my surprise spoke fluent English. “I love speaking English,” she said. We chatted some small talk, then I took her picture. I noted that she was not begging, but imperturbably living on the street, taking care of pigeons in the midst of the flowing crowds around her.






I have close to two thousand pictures from my last sojourn—from Washington DC to Paris, on to Venice for a month, then Egypt for three weeks.

Memories jump to life with pictures that add "a thousand words".

Arranging To Be Free

Me, in Venice, 2007

Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.

-Ivan Turgenev

 I have two months to set my affairs in order before leaving on prolonged travel. In July, I travel to Michigan and Wisconsin for art shows and will probably spend three weeks on the road. Then in August, I will be busy consolidating my life so that beginning September, I will be free to live in Venice, Italy. From there who knows? 

Consolidating means selling off possessions and arranging to be free. I have done this before and so know what to expect.

 

Venice, just before sunset . . .

It is strange that the years teach us patience; that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting.

-Elizabeth Taylor

Heal Into Love

During the present time of intense personal transition, soul searching often brings me to sudden flashes of thought that I want to keep for further processing. My mind is like a pond full of colorful fish, and I grab the brightest ones to keep. At any moment, I am in the habit of tearing up bits of paper and writing the words out, then leaving the scraps around in obvious sight. Good thing I am single now, this might drive a companion crazy. 

But it is because of suddenly being single that so much thinking is occurring. It feels good, coming into complete ownership of my life and understanding my path. Here are some thoughts I have collected on my scraps of notes:

Life experience = body. Bless this body, amen.

The universe is shifting everything in my favor.

He carried His cross to His own martyrdom.

All the weak and diseased leaves and branches are falling off the strong tree.

Does my ego identify with sufferer? (Poor me!) Let that go and become properly identified.

What is my experience? How is it accessed? Do I attach emotions? Keep everything blessed in the present. Do not imagine, just keep blessing from present time. Awake sleeper!

HEAL INTO LOVE. Be bound to nothing else.

Bless my entire life . . . I hold it, honor all experience and go forward with joy.

Consciously call Higher Powers—Spirit to enter memories and records of life—to heal loss through generations—especially mother.

Be one with the essence of life. Bring awareness and thought there—not elsewhere.

Go out in the world—homeless and free. Meet someone each day who is worth telling about—share, make a book, YouTube etc.

My life is not separate events but a fabric woven of Spirit.

Pull together. Constrain. Pull stomach in and hold power. Tighten buns. Hold power.

Weak souls are aware of emptiness that they seek to fill with material things and satisfactions. This is short term relief. More intense craving follows.

Desire is self-flagellation.

Writings From The Month Of March

March 25, 2012

Mysterious Circumstance

This time five years ago, while on the island of Sicily, . . .

March 27, 2011

Absurdity

Of all animals, only human beings can be absurd.

March 21, 2010

Home Is In My Heart

When I travel for extended periods I become homeless and a true wanderer.

March 08, 2009

Violin Played By Ethereal Hands

Imagine living without water or food for nineteen days.

March 08, 2008

What I Want And More

THE DREAM is giving me what I want and more. Here in Luxor, . . . 

Monday, March 19, 2007

Segesta

I almost cried when I found the temple at Segesta after being lost, . . .

True Currency

I believe experience is the true currency. And among experiences, the practice of virtue is of the highest value. Money cannot hold memory, cannot inform or teach, and although it represents happiness to most people, essentially, it is inert and without life.

Four years ago, exactly this time of year, I lived on a houseboat in Kashmir, India (see my blog, My Astonished Eyes.) My floating world was Dal Lake, at the foot of the Himalayan Mountains. Water lilies drifted all around, and my houseboat was very comfortable with hand carved wood decoration throughout. I met local people who came to visit me and sell their crafts, and my servant Mansoor would paddle me to the nearby town of Srinagar.

Perhaps, a financial analyst would have advised me to keep my savings intact and not spend the way I was spending then—traveling around the world. The USA economy had begun a freefall and my savings were falling like most everyone else’s.  Yet, I was hungry to experience life in all its facets.

At the time, I called my existence and traveling THE DREAM. Along the way, I made paintings, took photographs and wrote. My bankroll was diminishing, but my inner treasury was growing rich with vivid life experience. Going forward without fear, I trusted that since I am DREAMING, a bigger hand controls destiny, and furthermore, scenes change—including scenes of birth and death, but EXISTENCE in THE DREAM only transforms—never ends.

Someday, THE DREAM will unfold my death. I believe I will witness this occurrence and then, step onto a different stage to continue to be in awe of how fantastic and inspired is the universe and its Creator.