Resolutions

Last year, I settled on two New Year's resolutions. The first: to cancel my gym membership. The second: not to make any more resolutions.

As I've said before, wisdom is a moving target, and so my resolution to not have resolutions has un-resolved itself this year.

Here are my resolutions--or rather, call them "loose ideas," or vague intentions--for 2013. And, whatever you do, don't hold me to them. While it's great to have big dreams, it's also surprisingly fulfilling to set very low expectations that one might actually meet.

Number One: I want to be in a Flash Mob. If anyone is organizing such a delightful thing in the South Bay area, please do contact me. This one resolution trumps all the others, (except Six) below, and will count as having fulfilled the entire list (except Six), if it does, indeed happen.

Number Two: I want to take a ceramics class. There. Seems easy enough.

Number Three: I want to re-learn a few chords on my guitar. See comment above. (So far, so good!)

Number Four: I want to continue to go to yoga classes in a highly inconsistent way. (Again, done!)

Number Five: I want to start taking a Zumba class, with the frequency of my attendance being fairly intense in the new year and then petering out to nearly never after a couple or few months. If some unforseen miracle happens, I may still be doing Zumba at the close of 2013, but highly doubtful, don't you think?

Number Six: O.K. I really mean this one. I want to continue to discover who and what I truly am, and to express that (or allow That to express me) fully and freely in the new year, and in all the years that I am lucky enough to be gifted with, to come. Let no resolutions toward any other goals for the body, the identity, or in the "outer world" impede this one, this sacred one, the only one that cannot mislead.

How about you, my beautiful Friend?

Have you found the One True Prayer

the Divine Resolve

That will inevitably, mysteriously, wondrously Release

the Self

in which all resolution dissolves?

Priests of the Pogonip

These photos were taken on a rather unused hiking trail at one of my favorite churches/temples/mosques/meeting halls here in Santa Cruz, the Pogonip; a magical open space that borders the University of California campus. I have told people, If you ever find me upset, or restless, too overcome with the world, too involved with my self ... Well, you'll know where to find me. 

... And when I return, I will be cured.

Along this mostly forgotten loop of trail, there are several very old Oak trees.

They stand out as the most beautiful of all the trees, revealing their inner architecture, sweeping downward now, not up--releasing parts of themselves bit by bit to re-nourish the earth, to somehow feed new spring growth. The energy that once was all theirs now eager to leap into soil and begin anew.

  
These old Oaks host all sorts of other species, turkey tail mushrooms, and bright green mosses, Poison Oak and creepers and vines I do not know the names of ... Animals, bugs and birds have drilled into bark, bored into it, traveling through limbs and trunks; and I wonder if these trees feel a great tingling and intermingling and disintegration all at once, while still, blissfully warmed by the California sun.

  
Let's call these the Priests and Clerics of Pogonip ... In all their apparent sacrifice, alive with mystery.

Look at the contrast here, between the smooth, elegant skeleton of this tree and the new evergreens arising, bustling with a fresh greenness all round it. Rampant growth!

When my Grandma Nell was very old, I used to touch her skin ... It was so delicate and soft, and her eyes so very pale and blue--everything about her vulnerable and open.

I wish I had a better camera (I was using my phone here), and more time to fool around with it. These photos would be so much better ... But look at me! Posting these here! Something I've always wanted to do.

Groups of hikers and runners and moms and herds of what I call "the Spandex Ladies," speed through the Pogonip, chatting and laughing, huffing and puffing. I am sure they are all enjoying what they can about this place, and enjoying each other, but as for myself, I cannot imagine it!

The Pogonip calls on me, as perhaps a hushed and crowded church on a Sunday morning, to enter quietly, to slow my pace ... and finally to find a place to sit. To just sit, and to Be.

...

 I did not go into the Pogonip on this day, during this early spring season, looking for a lesson on aging and dying, but the Pogonip spoke to me, as it always does, in one way or another ...

I receive my sermon.

In order, in part, to share it with you,

With Love,

Your Mystical Mama

Flying into Dying

This
is the last light
under the door
as Mother/Father
closes

All imagined monsters
suddenly arise
and subside
again
in Sleep

I tell my children,
You will not feel that itch,
that pain, nor remember that
remark
in Sleep

Such sweet relief!

This
is the last light
at this West Cliff,
teeming Bay
A razor's edge of
screaming hot
Pink
flattening into a shimmering sliver
on the dark horizon













Blue mountains
once green
fade to purple
then gray
and dissolve into black
and blackness
Merging into One
Night

This silently flying
bird wings its way
into that gap
between light
and dark

Inner lit homes
Cozy and bright
in their seaside stateliness
Erratic bicyclists
chatting, rolling on this edge
Silent pines
standing sentry
and the gentlest of waves
giving
the rocky shore
a lovely, lapping massage

All arises within
This Consciousness
As has all that
has ever
Appeared
and will ever
Appear.
All You and
Not You,
too.

A projection from within
the black heart of night
Illuminated by I AM
Creating timespacematter
and subsiding again
into this Loving
Heart
of darkness

Subsiding back
into You!

This has been a long, full day
Peace-and-desire,
joy-anger-sorrow-Love!
that is over

And now the final chapter
Closed

And it is time
to go Home
and
Rest.

Welcome Home

We are Home.

We greet others, arriving
Stepping out onto the Front Porch

They have journeyed long distances
Dragging their frazzled minds
and limp bodies
from the frigid, barren outer regions
Hellish worlds of unbearable pain

And here they are!
At the bottom of the hill ...
On the curving drive ...
On the front lawn ...
Front porch ...
Home!












 We welcome them,
So very thankful they have arrived
Prostrate in gratitude
that they have come
no matter what form of transportation
Coach
Train
Horse
Bruised and bloody knees

And now we say:
You are Home!

Come down off that horse,
emerge from that elaborate, protected carriage
and take my hand
to rise
from those poor, battered knees
Disembark!
Exit!

Come and sit by this
Eternal Fire
called
God's Love
One Love
or, simply,
Love

Here, where
all forms of transportation
are
no longer needed!

Part II

We are Home.
Here, where
Nothing is.
No method.
No teacher.
No ideas. No concepts. No definitions.
Not even words.

 Only the deep silence
of This Peace.
This silent chamber
of the
One Mind

After a time,
you might set down your tea
and,
blinking your eyes,
say to me:

"How funny! How odd!
I dreamed I had traveled this world.
I suffered great evils and lived through
the worst of nightmares.
I was cast out!
I was nobody!
I was the embodiment of all evil,
even!
And I struggled to escape
I indulged in many passions
which engendered
more
restlessness
and wandering
and then I dreamed, within my dream
that someone came to wake me up.
It's just a dream! she said.
And I was amazed
and in disbelief
Until I realized
Yes.
I think she's right.
And I woke up!
And now
I am
Here, with You."

And I nod
And we laugh
and I say:
"Darling, I dreamed the same dream
and
Aren't dreams so amazing?"

Buried Treasure

Soon, the autumn light will bring

Gold!

to us all.

Great riches ...
beyond measure

But did you know
there is
a
Greater Treasure?










Did you know
You, Yourself
possess all phases
of God's Love

and
all qualities of
God

Within you?

Did you know
these are
meant to be
discovered within
and manifested outward
and that
You
blossom and radiate
within this
Divine Expression
 ...
 leaving no one
outside your
exuberant Bounty?

(least of all, yourself!)

Still, perhaps
you are trapped in some
tawdry expression of
hurt and need
Seeking some treasure
Outside,
or in an overused map

No matter!

It is no matter.

For still you are
Your own
Buried Treasure.

Three Principles

Those "three principles:"

Mind, Consciousness and Thought

Mind is all that is, ever will be, ever was, and the intelligence and energy of That.

Thought: The power of creation, the power to differentiate within this energy, to conceptualize.

Consciousness: Capacity to experience all of this through the senses, through the emotions, through spiritual feeling. Being alive!

These are not a movement, nor are they a philosophy, "an approach," a "path," nor even a "school of Thought" ;) ... They cannot be "mixed" with "other" philosophies: They are the source of all philosophy. They lie within all philosophy. They are not a group of people, a set of rules, or a way of presenting. They are owned by no one and by everyone. They are What You Are. Point toward them, or point away. You use them in either case. Always, always, always creating ...

Always, always experiencing that which we have (consciously or subconsciously) created.

Those three principles ...

Simply facts.

That's all. Simply facts.

Not even rocket science.

What do they mean?

They mean you can be free! Now! In this lifetime. In this moment.

And actually, you already are.

But for your thoughts, you are:


Free from insecurity, free from self-doubt, free from jealousy, envy, greed, seeking, searching, free from fear, anger, attachment, depression, insanity ... Free from the past, free from the future ... Free from "movements," roles, identities ... Free from wanting, free from "having" and finally ...

Free from the idea of Free

Free from all ideas.

Free from the idea of a self, and self protection: reaching, grasping, getting and holding on to ...

Free to release into the arms of this

Love

called Universe

called Mind

And in the end,

There is nothing ...

To be called

Anything at all.

This Life is living me! And I am learning, every day, to

Surrender!

God bless you ... as is always the case,

Your Mystical mama

Postcard from the Front Porch

How are you all?

I thought I'd check in on this lazy blog of mine. We get several hundred visitors (400? 500?) per month here--nothing stunning by blogging standards--but I do consider all of you my friends, and I so appreciate your coming back from time to time to check in on me, even though my blogs land here erratically.

And once again, How are we?

I was visited recently by Jenny and Rudi Kennard of the amazing 3 Principles Movies website--a site featuring hours of totally inspirational 3 Principles-based audio & video footage that this young and energetic couple collected using their own monies and volunteering their time.

They sent me the video blog they've posted of their recent travels, and I noticed that in the midst of the elegant offices and fab kitchens of many other 3P "practitioners," their footage of my own front porch showed a sort of shabby, cluttered entryway--and me opening a front door that started to need paint many years ago. All the rest of the footage of me was with my kids--as is the norm these days, especially with school out.

"On the Front Porch" with Kid (Tori Elle) and Chantal Burns from England

 And so, here I am! My front porch, the nominal inspiration for my radio show, "On the Front Porch with Ami Chen," is indeed rather ragged. The paint on its cement steps peeling horribly. Scattered about in a thoroughly unorganized fashion are garden tools, snail bait (organic! so they say ... ), lots of shoes (thankfully, mostly in pairs), and a shoe organizing contraption that is, of course, completely empty.

Filling in any otherwise clear, uncluttered space would be the children's various formal and informal arts and crafts projects, plastic cups, hair bands, twigs ... that have made it out from the car but not quite through our front door and into the garbage, or onto shelves.

The whole thing is terribly unimpressive. We have plans to blow it out completely and create a spectacular sun room/entryway/mudroom type space, everything in its place. But who knows when this will happen? Perhaps next month. Perhaps never.

In the meantime, Life continues. And here I am. I used to be "waiting for" things to change and "happen," for more money to be coming in, a new "level" of work to unfold--and while these things have happened, I have discovered that "waiting" is a waste of time. It is endless. And endless distraction.

My next radio show on "Money and Support," (this coming Friday, July 13) will be all about this--the constant leaning into the future we do, expecting something "better" to come along, whether that be more money, a better job, a better relationship, or even a better state of mind. This constant leaning is a direct interference with our experience of Reality as it is. Now. The wonder of what is!

This leaning, I have discovered for myself, can be into the next year or the next five years and beyond. Or it can be into "when the kids finally fall asleep," "when this traffic clears up," "when I finish cooking dinner," "when I can finally work on that book project," "when I lose 15 pounds," "when I get so-and-so's approval," "when I experience enlightenment," "when I can find some time to meditate," or any time after this moment.


Just not this moment, God forbid! I can't relax now! Look at this mess!


We would then have to accept our circumstances, internal and external, exactly as they are.

Yet in this stopping, this relaxing, this acceptance, we discover the depths of Life, God, Love itself. We discover who and what we are.

Life is so incredibly short, and yet we spend so much of our Thought energy, and resulting emotional and physical energy on trying to distinguish and decorate it (the personal life) in various ways. We miss, in these efforts, the overarching fact that Life Is. That one is part of Life, and the absolute miracle of That.

We become entangled in the particulars of our own lives, and we miss the constant support we receive, always, from the Energy of Life--that Universal Mind, with which we are one.

I have learned to surrender: to the porch, to life, to the children, the husband, to the Truth as I see it (and as unpopular as my current opinions may be). Surrender to disapproval. Surrender to nothing-to-be-done-about-it. All of it is what is. And here I am, what I am. What I gloriously am!

Past, future, goals, obstacles, problems, "not enough" ... All require a sort of "fantasy projection" that distracts us from Stillness, now, and the impersonal gratitude of Consciousness recognizing Itself in everything it sees and hears and feels and touches. All of it!

So, here I am. My family and I muddling through the summer, summer camps, camping. ... We've been hosting visitors like Jenny and Rudi, Robert Jackson (of the "A Quiet Mind" podcast), Drs. Bill and Linda Pettit, brave 3 Principles colleagues. All of it a blessing beyond belief ... Heading out soon to Grass Valley, later in the summer, Kauai. Exasperation with children. Complete exhaustion from time to time. Forgetting to surrender. Surrender. Love. Intimacy. Peeling porch. Joy and laughter. New ridiculously cute puppy. There will be a garage sale, a new drop-in class in Santa Cruz, a larger retreat in North Carolina in September. How will any of these events "go?"

Who knows?

Does it matter?

During my interview with her, the renown spiritual teacher Gangaji and I spoke of "stopping," a word, she said, that has no end. "Surrender" too, she said, is another such word. No end to surrender!

I surrender to this Life. All I have, will ever have, have ever had. All of it collapsed into this one moment, Consciousness, Formlessness, regarding itself in form after form after form. An endless entertainment, springing from Love itself.

From this space of surrender, I greet you, my Friend. Are you in the midst of your own surrender? To every experience? Every thought? Every state of mind? Letting it go, letting it be ... No effort to control, get rid of or gain anything.

Perhaps one day, we will sit together on my old and shabby, or chic and spiffy, new front porch

 ... and simply laugh.

With Love from

Your Mystical Mama