Rain, a bridge and a goddess

Rain seeps into every crack as crickets rasp their noisy legs in frog like sounds; the distant murmur of the olympics and the noise of words struggling to wakefullness; a strong desire for bed and a road stretching ahead; accomplishment of sorts and failure of sorts the usual preserve of the perfectionsist; shakespear in aussie accents with teenagers and someone doing egg farts in the audience; pine veneer desk scattered with papers and a litter of electronics; a bridge to cross foundations rickety and it looks so luch on the other side; understanding slowly what it is to live with all my heart and seeing a joyful shining all around me; there is a goddess living inside me and in everyone i see and she whispers to me of love.

Wilful Surrender

A new experiment, a new inspiration, an emerging yoga: wilful surrender. Our Ipsalu workshop tonight was the first step in exploring an idea that, in foresight, has been lurking behind a number of conversations Leanne and I have been having over the last few months. The basic question is: can you teach/support someone to want to go into their shit?

At the heart of that, of course, is how do we do this for ourselves?

The program tonight was great, inspiring and a great bunch of people with a willness to go in deep, it never ceases to amaze me how closed and crumpled up people can be walking in, and how open and sparkling they can be walking out, it's one of the things i most love and value about this work of teaching.

But this new yoga we are exploring, it feels like it's emerged mushroom like from the compost of our discontent around a few issues, but also from the sunshine and rain of our enjoyment of teaching and exploring and creating. It's an exciting adventure in conscousness.

The invisible stairs

Twist, turn, walk, run, go backwards, dig trench, fill trench in, dig trench again... the feeling of report writing, i just want it done, i've had the idea, gotten my head around it, know what needs to be done... surely there's a program or a machine that will just write it for me... but i guess that misses that feeling of satisfaction you get from having done it, the hard slog, otherwise you could just get a machine to live out your life for you but then again having a machine to do all the hard work and i get to just play... is that such a bad idea? Or should i just play? Why do i keep feeling the need to work hard... i stand at a fork in the road, down one road lay rest, play and poverty, down the other lay hard work and success... i close my eyes, breathe deeply... i open them, 'ah!' there it is, the invisible staircase going upwards out of this dualistic delusion, upwards to a place of play and reward where the sun shines from every cell of my body and i'm filled with laughter and my work is continuos with joy and a natural product of my existence: but it does take courage and a trusting childlike joy to climb those stairs... i breathe deeply again and put one hand on the rail...

Killed by clouds

Nearing the end of my project, there's writing the report. Writing the report and trying to pitch it just right so that something is actually done. I've gotten so immersed the subject matter, i really just want changes to happen now. For some people it's a matter of life and death whether our institutions choose to spend resources on heatwave adaptation. But there are constraints, the constraints we perceive, the constraints we create, the constraints of the real world: the 'real' world that looks increasingly flimsy the deeper my awareness and exploration of consciousness goes.

But does it really matter if we're killed by clouds? The earth will still turn, life will still grow wherever it can, consciousness will still arise in remarkable ways. To us it matters, but so often we act as if it does not. And is death such a bad thing? These are not thoughts that make it into the report (and they are just the light through the keyhole), and barely in the office, although i let them creep out now and then and i can see that people know exactly what i'm talking about but they don't want to think about it.

I do want to think about it, but the energy and effort it takes to stand in two worlds, to be able to put aside the more subtle wisdom, to be able to act and produce within our institutional constructs that simply cannot deal with this kind of fundamental questioning, takes an increasing strain on my being. What would happen if only spoke from this deeper place? That is the question of the moment....

Tired and ecstatic

Magic on the lunar eclipse, sleep weariness, qi gung and testicle massage, energy and intention, an inspiring weekend, and now for the pressure cooker this week...

Lunar eclipse

Moonshine, rain pelts, men gather, the soul of the world calls, siren song to our sense of adventure, fruition, challenging ourselves to the very depths... gifting ourselves with the power to be fully ourselves.

Listening....

OK, so lets start that again... each day a blog.

But what i noticed in not doing my blog is how much i don't notice sometimes the little subtle urgings and prompts that encourage me to do, the guides to the way of least resistance. There were a couple of times where i had the thought to do my blog when i was on the computer, but i thought no i'll do it later, when i've finished what i'm doing (which was struggling with my heatwave adaptation report).

There in fact times yesterday when i thought to do a number of things that would have been more successful and productive and interesting than going nowhere - i got the wind up me for the report later, but so much of the good juice was just tipped down the drain. And this happens again and again and again.

I think it's time to leave behind doing that, and to start dancing with the muse on a bit more of a whim... after all if it's evolution in 5th gear that's going to be going on in the near future, we're all going to have to really learn to go with our subtlest intuition. A world where everyone listens deeply would be a really intersting place to be...