Where Is It? What Is It?

Coming soon to a synapse near you….. free associative writing.

Please know I enjoy writing, I would do it even if there weren’t a dozen or so faithful LIP fans out there clamoring for the latest installment on the seeming chaos of this life in progress…..

……Ah, now I know what I want to write about. Forgive me, there was no idea present when the fingers started tickling the keyboard. But there is some rumbling inside this cranial chamber. I know it will come forward soon…….okay.

…….You don’t know what a single thing is. That is right, sorry for the inconvenience, but it is true. You can know all about something, all the characteristics, composition of, describe it to the nth degree with all sorts of factoids, but at the end of it all, you don’t know what it IS. What is IS.

Who says since something has discrete edges, that it is a separate entity, that those edges mark a boundary? “What?”, you say…. “It’s obvious, everyone knows that”. Hah! the “know” word. Man, do we get into trouble with that one.

Some things are instinctual. One does not step out in front of a bus because empirically it is proven that isn’t a sound idea. But you still don’t know what a bus IS. It and all density past the form of light is arising in the midst of infinity to your perception -a fractalized pattern of light bouncing off the inside back wall of a gelatinous orb that sits inside your skull. Gimme a break. It’s all just denser versions of chaos. Just because this process repeats itself doesn’t mean there is an order to it all! While we’re at it….if you’ve got infinity on one side and infinity on the other side….can you please tell me where the middle is? And don’t point to yourself and say “Here!”.

What is a “you” anyway? Just a sense of separateness generated by an overstimulated nervous system. Face it- You just don’t know what anything IS!

I heard a great story once about two highly esteemed Tibetan Buddhist monks, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche and Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. It was in France, they were sitting together apart from their students, having a grand old-time, talking and laughing their respected Tibetan asses off. One of their students who just had to eavesdrop on the conversation, snuck up to within earshot. She reported that she heard one of the Rinpoches, say to the other as he pointed at a tree…..”And they call that a tree!!!!” , followed by another burst of hilarious laughter. They got it…… and the fact there wasn’t any ground underneath them to stand on in a knowledgeable way was not disconcerting, just the opposite.

I have taken some high Dharmic teachings and reduced them to street talk and I ask forgiveness for wielding such a clumsy stick in short order. Indeed, there are far more eloquent discourses about this. Some will break your heart in a good way, as you are brought to a point of realizing your are defending a ghost but you don’t know how not to do just that- yet still you profoundly intuit there is much more going on than said ghost. That is when it get’s really raw and humble and juicy.

It is a jumping off place of release that doesn’t end in a crash landing. It is, in fact a point or place where you constantly jump off. Lo and behold, there is an Intelligence, not based on knowing but on Being that comes forward, waving a flame of compassionate light that illumines your way along a path of not knowing. It is demanding, nurturing, forceful and gentle. It asks everything and gives everything – an exchange resulting in a radical change of perception. You don’t know what THAT is either. But believe me, it just doesn’t matter.

Thanks for taking some LIP from me,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s