why the cross

Why the cross? So none of us could say (which we most assuredly would; we love our wiggle room), Yeah you may have assumed human form but you never had it as bad as I do.

engine

Note to self: Consider the Human, the Cosmos, the Wellspring / Source. Put each of them at a point on a Triangle. The Triangle circulates. These three forces continuously combine and unfold. This interflow produces, more accurately IS, this Dynamic Now continuously expanding. Reminds me of the Mazda engine.

thy word

"Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee." Psalm 119:11) What is the Word but the ongoing cosmogenetic flow from our Source that calls us into being with its continuous infusion? We hide it away from the noisy distractions of the human societal world and visit it there, at the core of our being, so that we may not be separated from it, so that we may be one with it, follow its guidance; for it is the very root, ground, and sun of our being. We water it with our attention, closeting ourselves away from all other attachments, inviting this word, this energetic flow, to guide us naturally and spontaneously from our core. The word, the heart, the "thee," all one.

huff-puffery

The ego is the imaginary molecule on the outermost layer of the pointer finger (for some, the middle) of the vast body of the cosmos streaming back and out and through eternal infinity. This imaginary molecule, upon which Facebook and all of "society" builds its encampment, huffs and puffs, sweats and strains, demands satisfaction which arrives only for a nanosecond, producing more huff-puffery. On this, all war is based, war against self, war against other, war against earth. An imaginary molecule requiring and receiving total identification.

nesting

Haha. You make up this little puppet and call it your self and parade and prance it around to the tune of your opinions so savagely collected to build your little puppet nest not daring the deep open wideness of no nest no nest at all.

trio

Yesterday was crucifixion. 
Today is laying low in the grave. 
Tomorrow is rising up brand new, invigorated, transformed.

core truth

Core truth: I ex-ist. I ex (come out of) ist. I come out of is. I come out of Is every moment. I have moment-um. I am moment-um. Surrect: spring forth. I re-surrect, spring forth with moment-um. He is risen. She is risen. S/he springs forth each moment. New birth. Continuously.

yes

One must be careful to not let one's mind be circumscribed, 
circumcised, by smaller minds. With that in place, love everyone.

the cosmos to me since boyhood

The cosmos to me since boyhood is a Presence, a familiar Presence with a gazillion times more wisdom than this peculiar humanimal who is an embodying, an ongoing embodying of the Presence. I trust the Presence. It would be insane not to do so. How can one not love and trust one's Surrounds that gives one life and breath and warmth. Ah! The suffering: every one's distrustful fall back. I suffer, therefore I have the right to create more suffering. Pah! How petty! Life is suffering. That's because it is moving, darling! Can't have moving without friction and friction is suffering and life is friction. I suppose you want a KY Jelly existence. Keep you lubed so you never feel a thing. Get over it. If you wish to be alive, friction is part of the package. The whole creation moans and groans. When you listen closely, it is laughing and singing. Joy! Joy at the unfolding adventure of it all. Crump your grump into a lump and swallow it whole! Presence! We live amidst and are an embodying of this magnificent incalculable Presence, a Mystery never to be solved and the book slammed shut and us saying what's next. The cosmos to me since boyhood is Present, smiling and laughing and loving me so much it could eat me up. And does! And I taste good!

ice trays

People like to take a stick and beat up on religions, 
understandably so, but the ice tray is not the water.

glove love

Denying our Source is like a glove denying the existence of the hand within it. The glove loves itself while all warmth that the glove feels comes from the hand within. The hand already loves the glove. When the glove loves the hand in turn, the two merge. Glove and hand laugh happily with no need for distinction. The Source is sourcing.