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inner revolution.
archives.      I       6.2001 to 9.2001

dovetailing defeat into a springboard for reinvention of the self

The river was exceptionally high today, and the current was faster than normal. A full day of rain can make a lot of changes along the riverbanks. Just like a disturbed mind can be cleansed and rejuvenated by a downpour of tears.

Trees, like saints, extend their limbs, reaching outward towards the Lord. Ready to catch any ray or drop of mercy that He sends from the heavens. River rocks, like self realized souls, remain unaffected by the ever-changing current...

Leaves, like jivas, aimlessly carried along by the current, not knowing where they will end up. Mirrors the life I have subjected myself to - the pursuit of temporary wealth and happiness.
In this game, where everyone participating seems to be at a constant loss.
In this game, life is moving too quick to think about where its being directed...
racing along, as the scenes change with every bend of the river, towards an endless ocean of death - the ultimate disappointment for hopes of complete fulfillment. Little leaves, chasing dreams and schemes... doing everything possible to forget about our fall from the limbs of trees that extend themselves to God. i'm sick of my soul getting chopped up, distributed to the gossip butchers... making meal for the rabid dogs who waste it like fools... i must admit defeat and renounce this silly game. Reinvention of the self to search for something real and true... to come in reunion with the Divine.

honesty can be pain when you are used to living a lie

i rape myself of my birthright...
i lie to myself...
i look into my own eyes everyday,
and lie.
over and over again.
my demeanor strangles what is spontaneous and natural...
my carelessness rips apart the fragile fibers that bind me together...
i am forever coming apart.
i inject this poison deep into the seed of love that lies dormant within my heart.
my heart...
buried under a 6 foot layer of dirt.
Withering away...
refusing to nurture the seed and let It bloom...
i die.
over and over again.
and cry in vain,
at least two hours a day,
for this to change.
coming to terms...
for a second time...
that i am a fool.

admiring the beauty of a golf course landscape on a foggy morning

laid my head to rest with thoughts of the "he ruined my day" situation ruining my thoughts of the.wonderful exchanges that i had just a few hours prior..
but fortunately, as time dwindled on,
i dreamt...
and it was nice, because it is something that i want to dream of all the time.
playing with those who cry out for true love,
jumping, and running, and screaming for that love...
that's what i dreamt... kirtan
and in the waking moment,
as the man who has captured my admiration more and more as the days pass,
called my name out, asking me for a favor.
i immediately said 'yes'...
realizing at the same time, that he had done me a favor and didn't even known it.
he had done me countless favors that i cant even properly glorify.
so the day starts with the passing thoughts of a nice dream and a familiar encouraging face, probing me on to strive for success.
then the attacks resume...
sitting down on the cold, hard carpeted floor,
i silently attempt to cry out for the love,
but thoughts of 'he ruined my day' consume... once again.
struggling to drown, it won't die...
so i do the needful and leave the house at 7:30,
to honor that favor that i promised
a fifteen minute conversation gives me more direction than a thousand compasses ever could.
still distraught over this,
*turns to audience*
(not the type of distraught that you are thinking,
i know this, but you can keep that illusion if you want)
but desiring even more so, to cry out for that love,
i take the step into the forest, find a nice place to sit,
admire the beauty of a golf course landscape during this foggy morning
and connect...
it is a weak connection, i know this all too well,
but it is being nurtured, and its better that i try...
and cry about my failure to cry about what i want to cry about
anyhow... the sobering effect of the forest speaks volumes
this is what it said:

"You are actually pretty insignificant, so it might be best not to think that you are the center of the universe anymore"

And the last thought before i left the forest behind,
before i sat down in front of this box,
to let you all know what is going on in this tiny little brain,
was... "Will any of this matter at the time of my death?'
The magic eight ball said "ask another time"

He is even in the smallest cracks and crevices...

Strangely enough, when i went to get the (semi) permanent fake tooth 'installed',
He came to me... while i waited patently
sometimes looking at the book,
other times at the serene painting of a landscape,
hanging on the wall... right in front of me
thinking, while i stare at the picture,
how just a few weeks ago,
sitting in the same chair, i thought...
'how nice of them to hang such a beautiful picture,
something that you can get caught up in,
to ignore the awkwardness...
while the orthodontist injects novocaine deep into your gums,
and drills holes all over your mouth.
how very nice.'
I look back at the book, and read along.

"Started listening to Ravindra-svarupa Prabhu's lectures on Anton Boisen and Krsna consciousness. Became hooked on it. He's giving Krsna consciousness in a novel way. Vaishnavism in Christianity. No upadhis - accept pure love of God where you find it."

Nodding my head in agreement, and smiling ear to ear (despite being at the dentist), because i know exactly what Satsvarupa Maharaja is talking about... he really is giving Krsna consciousness in a novel way... that's why he's my spiritual master..

i read on...
Low and behold,
the dentist appears from around the corner
and extends his hand for a courteous shake
just as i finish reading this line.
"Oh open that mouth for the dentist"
and all i could think is...
"Oh Krsna... 'Everywhere are His hands and legs, His eyes, heads and faces, and He has ears everywhere. In this way the Supersoul exists, pervading everything.' Bg 13.15"
The whole situation had an inviting warmth and glow to it.
that can't be captured by verbal imagery...
unless of course 'beautiful' is no longer cliché.

An indian summer sun

The air is crisp and the sun is warm and shining...
the perfect contrast.
what has come to be known as indian summer.
it makes you want to dance like a fool,
and fulfill all the dreams that you never quite got around to making come true.
Ah, the sun...

"He (the Supreme Lord) is the source of light in all luminous objects." Bg. 13.18

Prabhupada comments: The Supersoul, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, is the source of light in all luminous objects like the sun, moon, and stars... It is clearly stated in the Vedic literature, that because of His luminous effulgence, everything is illuminated.. He is just like the sun, eternally luminous, but He is far, far beyond the darkness of this material world.

Ah, the sun... the eye of God...
only a fool would say that we weren't dependent on the sun...
and right here,
plain as day,
Krsna states that he is the source of the very light that sustains us...
makes me want to be a believer,
makes me want to be a Vaishnava...
a lover of God...
thank you indian summer,
for reminding me of what i should do with my free will...
there is no reason not to anymore.

It is beyond the realm of just mere difficulty to strip away these layers of ignorance that bind me so tightly. When everything i thought i knew keeps slipping through my hands... left feeling like i haven't budged an inch. Have i made solid progress... or do i just keep changing thoughts like i change clothes?
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