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Sunday, December 18, 2000


With the intriguing subject line "turtles all the way up", White Wolf
quotes Ken Wilbur:

...white wolfe has been on yet another Ken Wilbur kick lately...the new
edition of "SES" ....ahwooo....waxing through metaphysics into
mysticism....i like it...tastes like a brew that is part Teilhard de
Chardin and part Stephen Hawking it does....what lies beyond....? ^^~~~

"And that is the truth common to all omega-point theorists (and any
decent theorist is an omega-point theorist). Assuming that their
contexts are well-founded, and assuming that they do not engage in
reductionism, then there is much we can learn from each of these types
of theorists. They always point to ways beyond our present perception,
and assuming their contexts are genuine, they are right: we will never
be happy until we, too, can live with a larger horizon. Until we, too,
can accept the therapia of embracing gently a greater depth....

And a final Omega Point? That would imply a final Whole, and there is
no such holon anywhere in manifest existence. But perhaps we can
interpret it differently. Who knows, perhaps telos, perhaps Eros, moves
the entire Kosmos, and God may indeed be an all-embracing chaotic
Attractor, acting, as Whitehead said, throughout the world by gentle
persuasion toward love."
"Sex, Ecology and Spirituality

further up and further in,

white wolfe

Jerry posted a compassionate plea not to marginalize folks who take
medications:

Drugs can have very different effects on people. I consider people who
are taking medication for some psychological reason to belong to a
marginalized group. They seem to be discounted in many ways. With all
the crap that's breathed and all the psychological crap everyone's
exposed to, with the swampiness of lovelessness that coats everyone's
face, hands and clothes, who is to judge another swamp creature?

We are all living under totally unnatural often loveless conditions, but
we're too accustomed to it to think there is anything wrong. All anyone
knows is a moment of clarity and then the possibility of expanding it. A
person on medication can know that too and can know love. People on no
medication may never know it and may never know love.

I work with schizophrenics who are on medication, and some have
responsible jobs, live on their own, make good judgments, are sought out
for their unique knoweledge and experience, are trusted, listened to,
called on for support, and are supported by others because they have
challenging times.

All people need to be listened to and trusted in this moment. Tim, I
hope you'll join us in the nondual movement toward world change and
worldwide acceptance of all people and the earth. There will be a new
website and possibly a new list. For now I invite anyone interested to
join Ed's list at <http://www.egroups.com/subscribe/nondualdialog>

By the way, there is no movement away from this list, on my part. This
list is exceedingly important, and I hope it will grow. It will probably
be too radical for many that will be drawn to this new nondual
activism. However I want those people to eventually find their ways
here and to go through the process that occurs here. Very interesting
times for this list could be on the near horizon.

As a final note, I'll be attending the Inner Directions conference in
March and there I hope to express to many the new movement of nondual
activism. I can feel it in my bones that people are ripe for more than
the usual nondual talk. I can feel it.

Thanks to everyone for listening.

Jerry

cee posted this short gem:

snip from

Song of the Grass-Roof Hermitage by Shitou

Turn around the light to shine within, then just return.
The vast inconceivable source can't be faced or turned away from.
cee

Harsha made an eloquent plea for ahimsa:

In the Jaina tradition, it is customary for a person to literally pull
out his hair in 5 or 6 chunks before embarking upon the career of a
monk. I was once told that the method is precise and the hair are rooted
out in such a way that injury is minimized and healing takes place in
time. Of course some bleeding and pain has to be expected in such
an endeavor. There is no doubt that some people like my teacher embarked
on such practices willingly with anticipation and joy.

When I was very young it was difficult for me to understand why a
religion that has nonviolence as its primal principle would support a
practice causing pain to the body. Of course, I do not object to people
following the ancient traditions and other ascetic practices such as
fasting and pranayama for the right reasons if their heart calls for it.

One time I heard my teacher say something and the gist of it was that he
became progressively more nonviolent towards himself and in his outlook
and spiritual practices as he got older. That makes sense to me now.
Youth is associated with great energy and enthusiasm but also with
violence in various forms, even in ascetic practices. This seems to be
particularly true of males. Age and experience can sometimes give us
perspective and wisdom if the seeds were there in the youth. It seems,
as we look around, that life is fragile and one is subjected to enough
suffering as it is without needing to engage in behaviors and practices
that cause more pain to one self and others.

There is the coming together and there is the parting. This is the
nature of all things. Knowing this deeply is sufficient to make one want
to embrace every living being and give all of one's love.

I got the following Haiku from David Hodges website.

Cry not insects!
Lovers, even the Stars,
Must part.
-Issa

White Wolfe shared his mystical meditative state with us by posting a
new poem:

...white wolfe sends you these thoughts born of this morning's lectio
divina...^^ ~~~~

further up and further in,
white wolfe

Advent Meditation on the Christ Child

The hoary season of winter is upon us,
The mountain in stillness lies beyond
Its snowy summit glistening is golden light
The glare refracting its sharp edges

Melting them into the cerulean blue

Oh, that I were a cloud drifting in that blue
Or better yet, a golden eagle winging upward
I would sail beyond the summits sharp edges
into the retreating seamless womb of empty sky
through the gold source of all that is bright & holy

There, further up and further into my dreams
I would travel with brilliant saints into eternity
I would fly with dark angels on amethyst wings
beyond the infinitely unfolding manifestations
and touch truth and beauty, embrace love itself.

I would find my arms cradling a holy infant
I would find myself nourishing a sweet child
I would look upon a face that is my own face
I would gaze into the mirror of sapphire eyes
I would sing the name that cannot be spoken

Myself melting into the cerulean blue
My sharp edges shattering in the glare
Resting in the platinum heat of an icy summit
On a holy mountain that has no final peak
Amidst the sacred season of winter's heart &,

Immaculate Heart and Mysterious Mother,
Holy Child, Sweet Babe, First Born Infant,
I return to abide in you who are always now,
and forever will be, as it was in the beginning,
the Christ Child returning to us in darkest winter.

Mark Christopher Valentine
Sunday, December 17, 2000

"Christ came on earth to form contemplatives" Thomas Merton

Dan said "word up" to Jerry:

Dear Jerry,

As all opens infinitely, nothing can be out of place,
neither words written there or here.

A reaction here to words received from there:

"Nondual" is just another container for a human idea,
fashioned as a conveyor of meaning.

That which conveys no meaning is missed
by adherence to a "nondual approach".

An approach, a vehicle for crusading, a fight against
darkness for those identifying with light. And nothing
out of place, neither darkness nor light.

"Nondual" then takes its place in the pantheon of words
used to evoke responses, incite "intervention", and
so on. It becomes incentive for action, for those
who tire of speech, those who want to really
"feel" it.

Thank you for showing "nonduality" for what it is -
just another container, just another word.

What lies beyond the words and activities,
the interventions and feelings?

Only the hand which is trying to grasp itself.

Love,
Dan

Gene Poole delivered a sort of "nondual Baptist Minister's invective"
about human conditioning:

Tim wrote to Jerry:
<snip>
> "By the way, just as a matter of input, the idea of mixing
> "nonduality" and "politics" seems rather risky here. There
> are too many traps and pitfalls

Not to mention, trips and pratfalls...

> (as seen from this angle).
> It could even result in an absolute dictatorship or
> totalitarian regime. "

Yes, and would that be a 'dream' or a 'nightmare'?

Again, it all depends on perspective.

It might be said, that we are already living under the harsh rule of a
totalitarian regime, that being the iron fist(s) of the Dark Masters of
the World-Dream. Yes, if you think about it, it is not about any
significant restriction of 'freedom' on the level of body, at least here
and now in the USA. No, it is about a brutal species of self-censorship,
a form of abuse that is passed along from parent to child.

How is it, do you reason, that we (pardon the expression, please) are
most of us, struggling to the surface, in slow motion, turgid bubbles
rising through molasses? So retarded, as to not know up from down?
Unable to 'think (ones) way out of a paper bag'? Effort expended,
counted against our allotment of days, to no desired effect? Mortality
weighing in like an anvil, and daily worries pounding like a smithy's
hammer, on the too-malleable billet of ego? Personality extruded,
pasta-like, then to be parboiled into stunned exhaustion?

As we lay passively on the broiler-rack of life, our dyslexic chef has
amnesia; deaf to the timer, oblivious to the odor of boiling
cerebral-spinal fluid, we languish long past done, yet wait to be turned
over, to repeat the treatment. Basted in our own narcissistic impulses,
unable to lift a finger without permission from our own inhabiting Dark
Master of Censorship, twitching we gibe, throwing salt over the
shoulder, to dispel superstition. To avoid awakening another, is the
task, lest we be blasted; heaven forbid, that any should offend by
exampling awake, to the minions of enforced banality; no, crucifixion is
the penalty, as our dear 'brothers of the cloth' are quick to remind, by
application of symbol, if not by word.

And just who, you might ask (or you might not ask, you might be afraid
to know, and you refuse to believe anyone really knows; denial, the best
defense against insight!) are these putative 'Dark Masters' to whom my
allusion refers? A conspiracy, no; but a 'transpiracy', yes!

You see, what has transpired, is the formation of a self-policing
police-state, the ideal, headless form of totalitarianism; and this is
in place, as the glorious 'world' which commerce, police powers, and
military forces, are in service of. Headless, but for perhaps a popular
figurehead, one conveniently full of air, and counting for nothing; or
many, tragically full of shit, and who count, but only to ten.

Our anarchist brethren refer to 'it' as 'the spectacle', a creation to
surpass Ringling Bros show, but faded to commonplace, thus lost to the
critical faculties, be there any surviving. Harkening only to the
imperative of preservation, the populat unconsciously quivers,
ameba-like, engulfing and devouring its own children, as well as
anything else within reach. Forever moving, devouring, and leaving a
trail of wretched effluvial waste, the mass-movement of self-imposed
moronicism knows only a blind hunger, and is bereft of any kin of
wisdom.

Wholly an orphan, it parents long-dead, it lives by its scars; reliving
the wound, and lashing itself as punishment for having the sensitivity
to know, that it is indeed 'wrong'. Perhaps that is the ploy, after all;
to prevent the arising of what is ordained by nature to bloom, or
failing that, to prune the budded flowers from the swaying stalks,
before time of opening, thus never to grapple with any force, which
would hold up the mirror, a sure sentence of death, if not eternal
existential agony.

So surely enforced upon self, as conditioned, it is only natural and
automatic, that such strictures, threats, and chastisements should also
befall the 'others' of this realm, basking as they do, and gamboling
'neath the sun of darkest night, seeing nothing, eyes yet unopened.
What better prey, could any totalitarian dictator stalk, on the way to
World-Conquest? Who more suited to move about the pawns on the board,
than the chairman of the board? And who would that be, we have all had
the dream, it is oneself, foot or leg caught in a closing door, the
crowd coming ever-nearer, the ultimate embarrassment of being
found-out, and yet, being willing to die, rather than surrender.

Strange, is it not, to resist the insight, issuing as it does from
within, as though it be external enemy; refusal to make conscious, that
'ungodly' din within, preferring the peace of isolation, of forced
separation? Martyred so, impaled upon the dull pike of narcissistic
denial, awaiting the arrival of the buzzards of conscience, too
exhausted to even squirm in this unreal dilemma, knowing that the eyes
will be first to be a-plucked, and next the liver? Is there no reprieve,
no balm to relieve, no fable remedial, to believe?

Yes, the group-mind churns, converting the milk of Grace into the butter
of sepulchral narcosis, love a far-away near-impossibility, present
wounds being the woeful foreground of the moment. And these wounds,
self-inflicted as they may be, are categorically blamed upon the other,
thus to continue the thin justification for continued isolation, and the
illicit motive for the sniping war upon other. And these I describe, are
the shock-troops of the headless police-state, having been reduced to
the most base galvanic reaction, a punch the natural response to a
touch.

Who among us, would dare raise voice against this deathly majority, thus
to risk immediate lynching? Has anyone so purified oneself, as to herald
the arising of immunity to the authoritarian impulse? Is it not,
instead, a proud comparison of self to the relative scale of perceived
dysfunction, the self-anointing of would-be king, standing proudly upon
the same scaffold of judgement, as those condemned? Is not this game of
self-deception fairly (or unfairly) universal? Upon what basis, does any
person scale themselves as more, or less, fit to speak or act in regard
to this cunning conundrum?

Now arrives the key, the unimaginable, the unspeakable, the
indescribable, or so it is described, by its adherents; once grasped, or
at least claimed, this key is the freedom from the bondage of isolation;
ironically, isolation may remain, yet the experience is now stated to be
blissful, this itself being judged a worthy conversion, yet one whose
method is available only to those who hold the magical key of
enlightenment.

Easy it is, to mimic the speaking of those who have escaped what is
nothing, thus to begin the mantra of self-mesmerization; yet, this
mimicry is easily seen, and is thus a mockery, itself a giveaway, a
tip-off, to the terrible price of self-deception paid into a veritable
black hole, a bottomless pit of imaginary perdition. Oh, that something
could be 'done' about this, were anyone honest enough to know where to
start; lacking this vital point, darts of good intentions are thrown by
a blindfolded player, most of which ricochet to implant deeply into the
buttocks of the thrower. Little known and less seen, is the bulls-eye
of the target, the smiling face of 'you' yourself, clown-faced in no
makeup, or is it all makeup? Prefering to 'honk' the nose of others, our
folly remains sublimated and simultaneously projected, compiling 'other'
as did Victor Frankestein assemble his 'monster', who later turned
against his own creator.

How to escape, the stalkings of our own created identity-monster? Does
it do, to narcotize the beast, thus to allay the anxiety which presages
certain death? Or is it better, to righteously scourge this twitching,
smiling/frowning/laughing/crying 'creation' unto the deepest pits of
hell? What we see, is what we are comfortable with; decrying 'ego',
being the same as decrying 'skin', leads to drastic measures, and not
roundabout but directly, to the judgement of self as being 'greater'
than one who is not indulging this particular form of 'self-help'. Call
'them' ignorant, call them blind, they are always with us, as our
internal endowment of "I" structures, loving and battling, conniving and
strutting, always active, filling us with myriad chorus of contradictory
impulses. To be, or not to be... to do, or not to do? Chocolate, or
vanilla? The 'nonself' of course, prefers strawberry...

And what of our aggressions, galvanic reactions all, and denial of the
fear which underlies such twitchings? Is it not time, to account for
such rampant and chronically upsetting phenom? Or can we go on as we
are, after defining everything as 'nothing', and 'nothing' as
everything? To which piper, do we pay, for our dance-tune? Has the ear
been developed, to hear the subtle differences between enlightened
pipings, and otherwise? And does this wisdom precede the holding of the
key, of follow that event, imagined or real? If there is a key, is there
also a lock, and if so, can it be picked? Or perhaps, we may exhale
ourselves as a breath of smoke, thus to craftily infiltrate the keyhole,
making the entire journey, needless?

Nay, though the heart may be aroused, and perspiration may begin, such
considerations are futile, for as we have been told repeatedly, nothing
is real, and thus no traction can be gained; still, wheels spinning,
we compete to see who can lay the longest strip of rubber. Over-revved,
the difference-engine of mind threatens to throw a rod; and this is
called 'suffering', by the frustrated seekers of difference. Knowing
not, yet not knowing, they proceed lemming-like to the brink of
extinction, convinced of their own nothingness, forgetting that one
which is actually not real, cannot suffer but imagined pains...
conveniently occupied by this heroic task, marching onward into the dawn
of a never-ending day, hallucinating in perfect harmony, we walk on,
shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, for the sheer hell of it...


==Gene Poole==

Christiana replied:

Dear Gene..

Your voice is unique, in breadth and as point. Your recent writings are
like Zeus rising up, roaring thunderously, lest the minor characters in
our internal circus may not hear. You have my attention. You've shocked
some (characters) to death.

I'd like to engage in an inquiry (sensed as waking to and beyond the
dream) with you. Recently you spoke of Rudolf Steiner's views on the
"Luciferic" (fire) force. I assume then, that you also know of his views
on the Ahrimanic (cold) force (said to be entering human history at this
time); as well as his "Christ impulse". It's one language model of many.

While I am no longer an active student of his work, some of the lenses
he offers seem relevant. I hear the tenor of what you are addressing
with this post, as the everpresent, perhaps flourishing human tendency
toward this coldness. My understanding of how he describes this is an
"indication" of greater tendency towards complacency; narcissism; group
thought; self-cultural deception; reductionist, flatlander easement ...
issues which you and Terry have pointed to in different directional
directives. We see this "dumbing down" everywhere... including within
ourselves.

A visionary impulse seems to be arising in Jerry. A call to action.
Terry adds another spark. Ed another. You another. I add mine. As Jerry
points out. Our sparks *appear* through different matrix constellations,
yet beyond the matrices, the same flint.

The challenge, as I see it, is to both see through the competition
(heat) for _memory-space_ (within our own design and as position
with/against other designs); as well as, to be ever vigilent for when
we assume we are a finished design (even an enlightened one) (cold).

Many of us, of the generation who cut our adult teeth on social
activism, were moved by an authentic impulse which got either twisted in
the crucible of competing criteria or cooled down through cynicism or a
sense of impotence.

So, assuming an everpresent "higher-order" impulse arising; how to get
out of our own "moronic" way, seems the question. Before we can
"organize" nondually (whatever that dream might mean?) it would seem
that an awareness of the forces at play in our mechanism need to be
understood and offered up. In all my years of reading, listening, and
observing, I've met no one more qualified than you, to point clearly to
the operating mechanics, in a full range of metaphoric language models.
You could only do so, as one who is a living voice of the impulse... a
rarity amongst so many memorex voices. This places you and us, in a
unique position.

I don't mean to place a laurel of projected specialness on your head,
Gene. I mean more that the echo of your living voice keeps me awake to
the duplicity of idealism and apathy. Much as Dan's living voice serves
to flatten out my storyline.

As a long time observer of the self-organizing-system of life, I know
that I only participate fully with beginner's mind. Clearing through the
underbush of dross is endlessly going on. The kernal (of vitality) heard
softly and loudly in places such as NDS, clears the organ of perception.

Now as we turn our gaze to "organizing", I ask.. Is there an Organ
self-organ-izing as organization? Will it's fleshy matter, pulsed as
harmonic space, through 900 pipes, become known? Will those who are
tasting "abiding" (absent of heat or cold) rise up like a Phoenix from
the ashes of identity, through sharing and serving as one. Can this
movement occur absent of idealized criteria?

The recent Presidential stalemate felt metaphoric, to me, as symbol of
our need for self-governance. Perhaps, Jerry's call is also of this
nature. Somehow.. all these various thoughts seem of a piece. I hope
some of the view is communicated.

Thanks for listening. Perhaps, this is very different from your view.
My inquiry is whether and how any of this touches what you see. Of
course, I am also open to what is not being seen ... through shared
view.

seeing beyond "the sheer hell of it"
Christiana

Jan provided some perspective on Jerry's nondual activism campaign:

A little story...

ºI'm working out a couple of things
ºwith a web hosting company in town and then there will be a new website
at
ºnonduality.net that will be dedicated to nonduality and activism. [...]

Activism... It reminds of the period I was an activist at technical
university. What I learned from it is that as a rule, "normal"
activism often results in "sweeping the evil from one location to
another". The so much despised military parade, abused to popularize the
army as to compensate for the horrible pictures from the 'Nam war that
could be seen on a daily basis, simply moved to the city where the
military academy is located. In Japan, nature is protected but the rain
forests in South-East Asia are chopped instead; two examples and there
are many more...

In this world, money is priority number one; people have become
dispensable so multinational companies can sweep work from one country
or continent to another and this is happening already with work that can
be distributed and collected via the Internet.

In Roman times, the people wanted "bread and circuses" - bread became
TV-dinner + beer& snacks, circuses of every possible kind can be viewed
worldwide at the push of a button. Nothing really changed, apart from
"local" to "global".

Essentially, in_duality_caught_man is irrational...Arguments don't
convince and due to the circuses, sensory overload has reached a point
where an emotional stimulus will be absorbed as if by a litter box...
"Free Tibet, don't buy Chinese" is such an example of a failed action -
despite the horror stories. Aids, TB, and malaria still are causing many
deaths but alleviating that suffering has a lower priority then sending
expensive toys to the moon or Mars.

Of course there are cases where improvement took place - for instance
the condition of people in the slums of Latin-America - it could be
called a "bottom up" action (as opposed to "top down"). But the general
picture is that of cleaning the floor while the pigs are shitting. That
doesn't mean stop cleaning, but throw the pigs out first :>)

In Rosicrucianism, stories like the above are used to show the
hopelessness of "worldly" striving, as the essentially irrational nature
of what they call "a-regenerated man" doesn't allow for a fundamental
change (as opposed to sweeping "evils" from one location to another)
to take place. Hence their advice, to 'realize' the 'eternal now',
fundamentally changing man.

Jan

Jerry shed some more light on his thinking:

My radar could be wrong, and it's entirely possible I won't get to talk
to so many people at Inner Directions. I'm not an invited speaker. But I
sense that people will be receptive and will have been moving in the
same direction. I don't see myself selling anything, simply talking to
people about what they've already contemplated. What I'll be expressing
is that I'm interested in expanding the process that occurs especially
on this list.

There is a process that occurs here, a process that people go through
when they spend time here and listen. Somehow I see the energy of that
process being applied to the world political, social, cultural stages.
How? First the people who are active on those stages have to be
identified. Then people have to consider the process they have been
through, the process which brought them to nondual understanding,
whether the process happened on the internet or in person with a
teacher. I see a coming together of people standing alone as nondual
realizers, and of people standing arm in arm on world stages. I think
these people need each other; there will be some coming together. The
direction I'm moving is one of creating a space for people to come
together. I'm not telling people what to do or what causes to support. I
don't want to function at that level.

Jerry

Jerry also provided insight into his diet...

I'm sure there will bowls full of stardust for those who want stardust,
and bowls full of potato salad for those who want potato salad. A chop
liver mold in the shape of Eckhart Tolle. Me, I'll hanging out near the
nachos.

And finished up with a weather report:

I'm certainly not out to change the world or to urge any specific
striving at all. Change has already occurred and it sits like a cloud. I
will try to find ways to increase its moisture content and maybe some
day it will rain.

Humbly submitted,
Mark

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