Anchored in Clever Dick’s harbour, no man’s thought can I fill

with warmth. Every answer embraced, further distanced my

heart from the nourishing brightness of deep simplicity. Then

sometimes........from nowhere....... an unidentified fragrance

.........suddenly dissolved the incessant wave-patterns of

illusion. Once more, possessed by rhythm, I felt freed from

the oppressive hell of trying to remember the gateway to the


            Whilst struggling with standards, man has become

mummified. O.K., it’s not the monuments which teach

stagnation, but the anxious search for a point of view which

can be relied upon, reflected on, impedes awakening, and

ultimately, sanctifies self-inundation in a space of infinite


            The glittering surface is sterile causing the trembling

soul to feel exiled and prone to unreal tales of home.

Weakened by malicious impostors, even a miraculous whisper of

oneness becomes a source of terror.

            Yes we can live rather than guess ...... if awake to

the miraculous ......for who else lives but understanding?

It’s imagination, having moved through you, establishes this

creative point of view.

            But trying to recreate that grace-filled magic of sudden

joy and lit up commonplace, manufactures endless misery. And

although with every breath, a crowd of programmes solicits

from the shadows, only total abstinence will allow one into

real openness. This is the obvious starting point. The

basic shift from an immature floundering about in the market

of psychological alternatives, to being without choice, oneself.

And, suddenly, many grasp the same implications. This light is

the atmosphere of Truth. Yes, the ground for this healthy

illumination is nothing else but plain total honesty. Who

else ever reflected the bickering despair ? In this dimension

of real individuality, we can truly meet. This peering

through tarnished inertia and the total abandonment of

captured lights has cleansed the open view. And what is seen

is not negotiable. This can not be understood by those who

have not let go their standards. Everyday is a deal to them.

Shuffling values. The obvious person nothing but perception.

            What I see IS powerless. Meaning vanishes, assumed.

Be careful of orbiting round old quips which suddenly exhibit

an astonishing freshness. This means of procedure must be the

ruling theme. Understood, these common words assist in the

realization of where we stand. Being in Being, I discovered

an expanse of feelingness which had been held solid for so

long by self-defeatism. And so, having abandoned that tangle

of descriptions......... no emblems can be found of what is to

be done. Freedom. Penetration. From the rock water. From the

word pure nourishment. Anarchy. What apparent boundaries

suddenly disappear in an active space which feeds

through a new discovery in the art of listening.

Participation. That brought me very close to description. A

backward glance at the theory and there we lie.

How then to develop this noble art ? We re-examine our

inward stance and feel at once the staleness of any assumed

strength. Imagination is freed from the disease of calculating

compensations for lack of freedom. Understood, we generate

courage. In this definite communion we sharpen the edges of

our geometry. Temptations to speculate abound. Impulses from

a thousand bruises. And note this ...... after the second

real hit, the numbers in our band are reduced drastically.

The space between uncorrupted souls is stretched to ......

vanishing point ....... announcing an amazing absence of

distance. Intelligence. And these words are a way of

immediate welcome. And only now, having travelled here to

this congress, do I feel a taste of trustworthy confidence.

The exhilaration of creative truth. Nourish and be nourished.

Now. The simultaneous unfolding of hidden intentions.

Yes, awakening does ennoble, but we must avoid falling through

gulphs of self-amazement into labyrinths of detail. Quagmires

of self-importance. So, there’s danger located where it

breeds. So many years were wasted attempting to hold a truly

ridiculous posture. And I say this in the margin of social

history. Lack of insight coupled with justified inertia, led

the cowardly to a psychic paralysis, sometimes referred to as

“a terminal vacation in dehydrating forms of guess work.”

Yet rumours of real life have been noted, but imitating

speculations gave us no ability to find the entrance. It was

a case of absolute avoidance of the psychological facts.

Arrogant poses flourished, whilst remaining in the pit.

And still the mystery is abused in continuum, whilst self-

burial is proudly paraded as being worthy of respect. Almost

everything said is a form of blasphemy. Perhaps each

picture...... and some have gone that far. After all, who can

claim to be guiltless when it comes to the question of

colouration? Whilst the orchestration of light, is given

free. This understanding is the open door to real communion.

The participation which those blinded by themes ignore.

Hungering for validation of their scripts, they shamelessly

promote a desert of echoes. Agents of the robotizing virus,

these impotent vampires yearn to don their rags of judgement.

And any recoil on our part IS judgement! It is only in the

light of this clarity, we can truly feel the plain vase. We

are now seeing before the voice. Total admission. Now we can

develop our undistorted propinquity. A silent theatre of

unrepeatable operations. The space where trust is managed by

original integrity. After all, only wholeness can nourish this impetus.

Now that the belief in belief has been dissolved, we feel

astonished that we stomached slavery for so long. How

perversely we had allowed our extremities to be appropriated

by the viral machine, until we settled for calling our own

condition “other”. Suddenly awake, we are no longer the

effect of otherness. Every occurrence is intrinsic to self.

The ascent of the meaning of totality.

            Be not ashamed. You will not be the first to discover

that your package contains nothing real. Nothing but

convoluted forms of complaint and pretence. How our tired

musculature needs this spring awakening. And these words -

unlike our previous obsessions-- need no scars on which to

anchor. So, in this intimacy of inner discovery, we commune.

And the details of our freedom make us laugh. What

confessions! The doubts were always rooted in undeveloped

insights. Hard to explain...... so often I have rehearsed

such explanations! If you do not understand you have not

entered the open. Then you can only imitate, that is, centre

on your guess work.

            To be sure all of this is still re-tracing. Still ghost

lines. Don’t imagine who you are. All those guises are a

dying industry. When you’ve heard it said “so and so has

changed” what did you think? Have you seen someone jump to a

place you have not been? Yet. Can you embrace what you can’t

conceive? This way, we conceive our real self.

            Realizing it’s so easy to betray our inner discovery, the

sentences shorten. The eye at last constructs the line.

Changes of meaning as one speaks. Intruders? From where? Or

the new line was always there. One sort of bounced against it

........and then printed it .......onto the silence. Degrees

of staleness. There’s no freshness in any explication. Take

that slowly. Into every cranny. And transcend every score.

However well it’s been orchestrated. Be truly modern in this

ancient mystery.

            O this understanding feels so vast. We feel intrinsic to

Being. Intuit growth. Yes, we are allowed. And we allow.

The omnipresence really real. Yes, you are one with me

...... discovering this creative crisis you

think........through .........the real question.