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Expression of strength of whatever lifts the truth above the endless slosh of exhalations without the careful tilt of the head that lifts the words above drivel. We all know what kind of drivel can emerge from the depths of our psyches. No sponge bob belief, just essence. We gotta run to duplicate. Copy, make a duplicate, one more, send it to a friend, wash the dishes, make the bed, take out the trash, like last week. Do this week just like last week. A bit of this in the wide wide spaces inbetween.
Be you cuz that's all you can do. Who did you think you were? Your skin just seems to be peeling off. Did you let go of your skin? Just rub yourself raw. Just let yourself be the one who knows her dreams & knows what the big man wants when he casts his gaze your way. A pig with the flu, who told you about that? What the big pig wants, with gnats and like the roots from deep in the ground. The tap root, the center around which all of us organize.
Do you feel uplifted? What was at the center of the path? Who is toussaint? What will be for breakfast, where are you from? Indescribable growing up and wanting to look for something positive. God led me to this path, did he lead you to where you are? How do you organize your work? I have lived near Boston and steadily produced my music. It is the mass absorbtion, lift the music up. Mother taught the truth. And a family with more siblings. We are a huge family, singing out in the choir.
Which genre captures your imagination? What do you play? What drew me in was knowing that there could be a message behind which I could align. Essence behind the transition from the existential to the non-secular. A young one who wants to follow in her father's footsteps is one whose path is already written. It sits in the seat of power, knowing how much can be brought & lifted up beyond today's lessons which can help us get through the day. There is a little bit of affinity here, hold out for a community organizer.
Blessings through the generations. What do you know of the people who led you to where you are? Generations back, educated, knocking on doors to register. Generations of merchants and farmers scraping for a life, or just taking what might be there in front of them. What do you hold self-evident in these days of tax cuts for the wealthy & higher and higher costs for the working poor? What part of incarceration do you hold as part of the game? When young ones are locked up and the key is discarded like refuse.
How long does august remain open? My real question burns below the skin in expert testimony, in a reaching out for reality beyond today or tomorrow. We didn't get the broth, like we like to, we just left it for another day and then another & another. Who knew what the fathers would leave for the children on this particular go-round? Always with the questions, seems more interesting than thinking I know what's what. It seems more enticing sometimes to ask the questions than to state the answers and expect others to follow truthfully.
What I know to be true can fit into the size of a pin or less. What I believe to be true is cast about in pebbles and truth seeking artisans who have before them a wide-handed account of the right and the wrong and the in-between. Have you lifted your hand against those who weren't there on Monday? Where did you find the focus to fill your soul with something less than MOnday? Who ate your bacon? So here I am again, with more wondering than knowing, more inquiry than expression. I wonder.
A week of entries flashed up wise before me. No hostile take-over, no anxious wondering or answer before the wise men of Hostilla. Noone knows how to meet you when they aren't really here to begin with. If you knew more than I do about this and that and the other thing, then maybe, just maybe we'd find our way through the wide expanses of the swamp. Maybe her world will be better or wiser or more open than mine was. Maybe what the world needs is something different from what I bring forward today.
The doors must close sometime, but will they close before I get there? A partial essence only just short of the line. Who knew about back-filling? We coil our words tightly like snake ready to strike, we coil our beings into this-ness and that-ness, and we open ourselves freely to criticism and diagnosis, but what lies behind all of this, is a being doing what she can to lift herself up above the difficulties, and to see straight into the worth of a man, to see through the window into something bigger. To see essence.
Aha, just two more days, and the month will close. At this rate, we might just make it. Just three weeks more in a month of Sundays. Or, well more rightly Saturdays. The essential can't be quantified when you're on a schedule. Do you know the true haiku? Will it know you before the curtain drops? Will you know how many days it takes to fill a tip jar with pennies left by well-meaning lovers, bankers and tax collectors? It is here, in the jar, the tip jar where friends and others laugh heartily.
Expand. A cup of tea. Formality is the one that knows what to touch the mind when it works below the belt. Education and intelligence take so many forms and the sunsets gather the clouds. Intelligence in motion. There is thought involved in noting what moves to intelligence in motion. See your world winding in coils, circles below the horn-hold. The back booth where the help gather. Take breaks and know this way is competent in a way that some don't really gather. The mind is a terrible thing to see at hard work.
Cognitive dissonance. Articulation at the joints brings formal holds between the lofty feathers listing this way and that, a bit of lived experience. Testing the practical in formal training. Do you understand the complexity of memory? Hell-bent on knowing the way to get the right thing to the right person, and memory of the lessons taught or lessons lost. Exposure to the tension and play of constant scanning. What is your work-space that needs a wild wisdom. Who knows where the wok lost its coating. Zoom your way beyond the priority of this.
Efficiency on the fly. Why are they flying? Words hold labor and the kinetic stored energy that gifts each occupation and the mixture of sophistication that knows no bounds and captive of the continuation of the wisdom. How much more will be there beyond the many trends that look out over the manual labor who works worth less-than, or less value than one who works with their mind. A tendency that knows no democratic bonds. We each possess different imaginations of the wild eyed mind. Habits can hold themselves hostage.
We have stolen from our geographic ancestors. There is geography and there are blood lines. I see the Ohlone as my geographic ancestors. There are notions afoot in the mines. There is a little bit of this in the tip jar. I'd love to know. I want to start the project that is nothing more than a little bit of enterprise with a notion of human categorization. This clump are class-distinguished. Moving through a wide swath of caste decisiveness. Are you destined to know the elemental world? There are five ways forward.
I think you lost it. Testimony behind civic imagination. At the heart of class discipline in service professions. Special interest helps us to dig deep and see the remedial education as something that likes borderlines, that likes those who know where the window of goodness is not something that just supports high expectations and lets us all know what opportunity feels like. The commons prepare us to know the phenomenon for the first time and has pride that knows no bricks and the layers are anonymous before we know how to listen for the wise clues.
In the end, what really matters is attention. Can I sit with you and know you and be here and present here and can we connect one person to another person. It is the interplay between the personal and the cognitive that really makes the education land. The teaching doesn't land unless you see me as a full person. The many busy people land here on this street as they venture out moving toward the big city. Hold outs for future where day after day, the many people move themselves around in the world, and drive.
Talk to people about memories of school. What comes forth? Mrs. Baldwin had big poofy hair, she had a halo over her head, and managed many children, some of whom were wise and others were just children and played with power and truth. One child after another. How do they know which child to give this moment's attention to? The seaweed, nourishes. The moments of aha are at the ready for fulfilling the basics in the right kind of environment. We are all ready to learn, and to be seen in our own perfect wisdom.
Are you insisting into the support? Alternation of exuberance with despair. Are you falling down? When you are down do you lift yourself off the earth to begin again? Which impulse do you gather toward yourself? If tomorrow holds the true meaning, what bellows forth below and around the radio waves. The tests hold only a little bit of merit, it helps us to know something about the individual. Score low that we only know what to do with it. If the ruler is broken and precision is below the scale. If you could.
What do you know that you're not sharing. If there is a truth that shows us something was missed somewhere on the scale. Lessons can't be held back when there are folks who do less well because their formal schooling is different and correlation seems to be intimate and easy. Elementals don't invest their wordlessness to be convinced to do the best we can to find our way through the tunnel. If you were the one to watch the workplace. If you were the one to see the holdouts through masking social relationships has education.
A few more words involved in a complex set of operations. We want the wisdom of each to come forward when the wild whisper. Solve the problem categorically or not, but a certain manifestation of true turn around in my driveway. It feels like someone putting their stuff in my 'empty' space. I want to lay claim to the space before us. Candles have been lit and sent to go before us. You could see qualities of good teaching in the spaces between the tests. History doesn't speak well for the ones in margins.
A third week and a third space that knows richness and knows that there are many different ways that different folks learn and find their path forward. Shine the light on class and race and know that we cannot leave people behind based on class and race differences. What moves each of us is determined somewhere in the back of the brain. It speaks to reptilian thought processes. Democratic coarseness knows no bounds and listens openly and instrumentally beyond yesterday's competition which owns the land and owns the people and owns the roadway that each of us walks.
One hour of long sleeves and long pants. An hour of excellence. An hour of programming to address the wisdom that knows the space apart that is sanctified. We all cover our heads and know the space to be our own. I will be vertical and upright and know myself to be held forward. A shelter from divine splendor. There is no way we can wrap ourselves before prayer. We create another world apart. We create space between ourselves and the outside. A portable sanctuary. I have the freedom to interpret this for ourselves.
Living with religious questions in unexpected professions. Discipline is at the heart of what we call religion. It helps us to know ourselves apart from the day to day. It is all a bit of this and that. We know our worth from the cast-aways. Do you know yourself along the same pathways? Today the core is still moving forward from the very center. The debates are not as bi-cameral as they might otherwise appear. Examine human experience a life of experimentation. Let us see the creeds as 'shoulds' or theories.
Outlines of arguments and not something that needs to be adopted, but is the starting space for the role of mysticism. Cancel your ticket if you like, or change the destination somewhere along the way. I watch the long hours of the night tip forward. We do not give up, we simply motivate ourselves to the beyond. A dark night and longing and then the spiritual course of the scientist knows no boundaries. This organization brushes the hold outs. You know yourself truly, you know your own wisdom. Wild experimentation simply watches each of us.
From a bit with Parker Palmer after depression.
You see depression as the hand of an enemy trying to crush you, do you think you can see it instead as the hand of a friend pressing you down onto ground on which it is safe to stand?
Exploring what is dark and difficult in life.
Is your collapse associated with the religious journey? Are you sitting in silence, are you closer to God than you were when you were alone in the doctrine? The closer you get to the light, the closer you get to the darkness.
I love the phrasing. I love the rhythm of all of this. Moving closer to God includes moving closer to much suffering and much joy. There is balance in all of it. It seems the soul seems absent. Castles are holy candles let us connect through a path of water and well-being. If there is nothing more than this, we are bested below the wildness and a touch of the divine can be as simple as a setting sun. The tradition of silence is goading forward. Be with in silence. I know you.
Can you feel the loveliness of the flowers? Will you know your garden fully? Arrive here for true presence. The soles of my feet connect more fully. The mentality connects each of us here humans every one. We are suffering and holding the mystery. We are each in sacred space above the clouds. The wise peeks through the clouds, and somehow you can hear me say 'God' and not get the heebeejeebees, why and how is this? What window is wild and open to the winds? Let me find the woman who knows.
I will quietly and passionately wash my hair, I will wipe the greases from my being, and hop on my bicycle and deliver my suitcase to the shoemaker. I think they can fix this for me. Fashion a backpack. Fashion something that will help me transport this forward and through this or that and under the wide eyed willow. I wish my mission were so fully essential. I laugh through my eyes. The smoke cannot be known without the pain and mixed suffering. My children are part of this relationship. The love transforms.
Just three more days. I know how to fulfill this mission. We are still here. I will wash with water. I will know myself and know you and we will be there together. The identity is open and whole. People find a way forward. Detroit holds potential. Wisdom knows no bounds. It is something that cannot know another way of being. I hold you as part and parcel of this and that & the wide ways. My favorite shows change us as we move to another continued song that knows the spiritual my friends.
Concentrated. Her focus undisturbed. Deep and unwavering. Her breath regular and steady, her eyes open, sharply focused, her body relaxed and yet alert. She stares intently in one direction. When she is not in this state of alertness, her body curls, and she appears fully relaxed, arriving in a space either fully present or throwing herself fully into unconsciousness - as completely sleeping as she is alert when she wakes. Breath is at the core of it. Breathe with her, and know yourself at last as the beneficiary of your mind, body spirit connection. Wisdom.
Raising children teaches about how to help people. Help people by writing checks and somehow this moves at a remove from real relationship. Let this be a guide to shift into how the structures can be changed. Let us bear witness and be with, and to be for each other. We will know ourselves and know each other in relationship.
What does it mean to be in crisis? Breath is full and whole and we know our second shift. Eggs are part of the wholesome segregation the neighborhood and the loaf of bread.
The Tip Jar