Friday, April 8, 2011
When does a person become ripe for the plucking? Is it when one’s own reality becomes a bewildering movie? Farmers pluck their fruits when they ripen, or the fruits fall because they mature and gravity takes over; leaving behind pungent aromas of something mystifyingly bitter-sweet. Something very be-wildering, could it be the birth of a comical consciousness now come to the fore? Something like the ripened sweet rotten fruit? Finally arriving at a stage where one is simply left with a numb sense of looking around one’s environment and actually discovering the dull-ness and dreary-ness canopying us and our actions.
What drama unfolds when you find that you have finally been granted a glimpse, a peek and perhaps even a fuller view; of your personal idiosyncrasies and hang ups☺ One is never a beast of burden until one finds out! Is this a reviewing time of everything you stood for as a human being? Good pointed question, no telling answers! One can only be grateful for this insight into one’s own limits and overbearings; it is good enough to know the fruit is rotting, seeding and ripening to bear fruits once again and that our bewildering paths also beckon us much like the fruit above; That the bewildering discovery is now being made, toward what the teachers say is the discovery of the first truth!
That life is full of Samsara! Now welcome to Nirvana!
Am I now accidentally stumbling onto a ‘fact’ I have read about in books and heard about in innumerable settings, even lived through unknowingly for lifetimes? I don’t know! It’s all too haranguing! The best clue one has at any given moment of how this sense of total bewilderment sets in is in one’s sense of self, considering one has any. You walk the streets, people pass you by in either direction; you keep walking on, and voila! It strikes you! Who are you? Where are you headed? What do you do? Is this even you?:)
Some of us are late bloomers, (with stories of doom and gloom) but these occasions of physical self-awareness are rather grand stupefactions! All of a sudden you are thrust in a situation and a circumstance where one’s usually trusted codes of conduct perform maniacal comic stand-ups. I’m acutely aware of my shortcomings; my superficialities strangle me slowly and all I wish to do is run-way, escape, and be gone, preferably in a dark hole but one can’t barging when lodged and puckered into the crevice of an ass. Days now unfold slowly yet speedily, and I’m severely aware of my striking run in with this bewildering aspect. I’m beginning to discover the bewildering fact that I have never known myself! How uncanny is that! Who is this person residing inside? I’m not the face I see in the mirror, or the words I speak or the thoughts I think or the emotions I feel. My form is not mine and my consciousness is way beyond myself! And who is this person who writes this stuff and drinks a lot of tea and coffee or coffee and tea.
They talk about it a lot. I’ve heard it whispered and blown into the air – form and emptiness, emptiness and form. Shunyata☺
I’ve just stumbled onto an alien called me. The crossroads of fiction and reality fork on, and you either are a science fiction figment of your own clever imagination or you take the less bewildering simpler road of actuality, which may twist out into even more multifarious and baffling highways on the high and lowlands!
Further bewilderment on the road of ripening bewilder-ness, one might add, without arriving at anything, without going nowhere in particular, still motion.
Irrespective of the time differences and day and night light savings, on every clock, watch and timer in the world, the time is the same. I