Thought I was an angel

I thought I was an angel

because someone’s eyes

saw the Beauty shine through me

This time I believed them

and remembered the blue and white light

shining through me.

and remembered Jeff Buckley

the breeze of heaven in his voice

And I asked: if an angel,

why these problems?

I must be a weak angel

And I answered: of course;

an angel is strong only when connected to his Father.

If God is the sun, the angel is a lens:

God shines everywhere;

the angel focuses that light on a particular point.

An angel’s job is to burn God’s love

through the paper wall around people’s hearts

A fallen angel forgets.

A fallen angel loses track of his Father.

I think we are all angels.

I think we forgot.

I thought I was an angel,

Today I forgot.

cogito ergo sumo wrestler

I am the person who makes the decisions I make.

Descartes was the one who thought the thoughts he thought.

But even that was a decision: to identify with his thoughts.

We follow Descartes; our heads get fat with thinking.

Cogito ergo sumo.

Our ego gets fat.

Cogito ego sumo.

But if we decide, our world gets fat with action, man.

‘I’ decide; there is no 'I' outside of my decisions.

no emotions, senses, perceptions, preconceptions. No taste or style. These things do not stand alone. i choose how to feel, what to see, what to take for granted.

I am my own creation.

just a dorky volitional bump in the fabric of space-time.

a center of the ripples in the pond.

be a raindrop.

* * *

Yeah!

He cans our vegetables

We can heal our bodies simply by paying attention to them.

Our bodies get sick because we focus outside too much.

If we keep half of our attention inside, all our problems are solved.

There is no more thinking. No worry, no doubt. Feel your body, act to make it feel good, keep feeling it whatever you are doing.

Mind is the middle man. The broker. He is not necessary.

When we speak, we do not need the middle man to interpret the symbols and calculate a response.

The real communication is heart to heart. Energy to energy. Middle-man more often than not gets in the way. We have the best intentions, we want to do our best to represent ourselves and express our appreciation, but middle man boxes it up. He cans our vegetables. Language is a preservative; it only needs to be used when our love needs to travel long distances, or be opened later.

Trust your heart. Trust your body. They can do the job without language, without mind. They can do a better job, if given the chance.