Showing posts with label Bardo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bardo. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Into The Thunderbolt Land (Part 2)

"Whatever arises - know and recognize it to be the wisdom-play of your primordial mind -  Do not become involved in it - do not struggle against it -  simply let it play out and a clearer light still shall shine through -
Rest in this light of non-conceptual original awareness -  Whatever then happens - let it wash over or through you - it doesn-t matter - simply rest within the purity of the light -
Whatever manifestations might occur - they are simply illusions woven of light - woven of the same clear light that radiates knowing consciousness - begins nowhere -  has no end - no middle - no physical existence whatsoever and is as insubstantial as a puff of yak-s breath -
This radiant - non-physical - luminous - timeless entity of knowingness is fundamentally good through and through -  it shines powerful rays of loving-kindness into the ten directions and three times and has actually always been thus - pure - good and radiant - since any beginning you care to posit -  This formless -  glowing - knowing - loving entity has a continuity that runs through and beyond conceptual time and measurable space - since ultimately it occupies neither - being not made of physical substance nor compounded of parts or elements it is immune to the power of the world and resides in a primordial "space" of pure luminosity and knowing -  the original stronghold of the Tathaghatagharba - "

When the Red Guards first started showing up in the rural districts and terrorising and interrogating the locals Lobsang was extremely worried lest anyone found out that he had been in possession of "counter-revolutionary propaganda" as religious materials and almost all foreign forms of journalism and literature were strictly banned by the Party and people who were found in possession of such things were reputedly meeting very grisly fates at the hands of these blood-crazed and insanely zealous youths whose average age was 15 -
These young people had been trained to be utterly ruthless - indoctrinated into a cult of violence and let loose -  to torment and distress the simple peasant population who had virtually no grasp of Marxist-Leninist Social Theory and were much more interested in tending their flocks as they had always done -
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"5th September 1904 - Tong Pa Nyi Gompa - North Central Tibet -  During our crossing of the Tsangpo River one of the yak-hide coracles carrying the gear started taking in water and unfortunately one of my note-books was ruined -  Particularly frustrating as it contained the notes I-d taken at Tashi Gompa where I-d studied with the local Lama for several weeks -  He covered a great variety of topics and seemed eager to educate a foreigner like me -  That region of the country is more lush than most of Tibet - with rich forests and canyons in the foothills -  I took many atmospheric walks among the rhododendrons that climbed up into the mist-dripping heights where silver apes could sometimes be glimpsed playing among the trees -
As I recall - Lama Dorje started by stressing the famous Buddhist principle of Impermanence -  the dissolution of all compounded things - objects - personalities - even worlds -
He had a very numerical style of teaching and it is largely down to this that I can recall as much as I can - The Two Truths - (Relative and Absolute)  -  The Three Kayas (Nirmanakaya - Sambhogakaya and Dharmakaya) and the Triple Refuge (Buddha - Dharma and Sangha) -  The Four Noble Truths -  The Five Skhandhas or Aggregates - The Six Realms of Conditioned Existence or Lokas - (Devas - Asuras - Humans - Animals - Pretas - Hell-beings)  -  The Seven Line Prayer (A Tantric Hymn) -  The Ten Bhummis of the Boddhisatva Path -  The Twelve Links of the Causal Chain -
On each of these topics the Lama would give most erudite talks - using the theme as a starting-point from which to dive into an ocean of profound learning - skillfully weaving the various points together so that - even to a foreigner and a beginner like me - the whole elaborate synthesis started to gradually become clear in my mind -  I have to stress how it was not a mere intellectual or academic lecture but rather his whole being was lit with enthusiasm and wisdom as he talked and he seemed to convey meaning beyond mere words -  In fact - as he pointed out to me - in their tradition - they believe it is possible to transmit wisdom from an accomplished yogi to a suitably prepared student rather in the manner of a telegraph transmission (but without the wires!)
The Tibetans are great believers in the psychic life and take it as a given that thoughts can be passed from person to person without the encumbrance of words being necessary -
If I remember rightly he used the analogy of a light that will shine wherever it is unimpeded - Therefore when the monk or practicing yogi has removed enough "clouds of obscuring ideas" from their mind and achieved a tranquil stability through long meditation - the light of wisdom will naturally be seen as there is nothing left to obscure it -
He spoke often of compassion and how that was our inherent nature"


Dukha is a Pali word meaning suffering – as Lama Dorje informed me – not merely the ordinary suffering of everyday life but also the much deeper suffering that comes from being lost in the Samsaric state of unknowing and ignorance that is conditioned-existence -  Because beings fail to recognize their true nature – their original nature – they constantly blunder around piling up more and more wrongful actions which further obscure their minds to the continuous splendour of their own inherent Buddha-nature –
Of all the sufferings within the six realms of unenlightened existence there is no worse form of suffering than being separated from residing in your true nature – the original nature of mind -  

Since the possibility for confusion is almost infinite in scope – when one meets the Buddha-Dharma in this life it is incredibly fortunate and one should not waste such a rare opportunity to progress along the path of liberation as it may not come again for kotis of kalpas or myriad millennia –
For those of us who through great good fortune have entered the path – the constant sight of the teeming multitudes who wander adrift in the fog of confusion becomes a spontaneous and natural starting-point for the generation of universal-compassion –
Without such compassion for all other beings we could not progress a single inch along the path"


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After some hesitation Lobsang Tawa herded up his scattered ideas and realized that if he was going to replace the papers he had found some years ago he had better hurry as the Red Guards could appear at any moment -  This meant interrupting some important tasks on his little farm but he knew it must be done -  Packing a bag of tsampa (parched barley flour) - some yak-cheese and a leather drinking gourd of chang - a weak beer made from fermented barley - he awoke before dawn and headed for the mountain region where he anticipated his rendezvous with a deep-frozen Englishman - "such is life" he mused as his feet crunched the snow under the star-scattered ice-mountains -
To be walking in the Tibetan highlands with a full-moon illuminating the snow-world just before the sun rises is an experience of vast pure and primal space -  a natural capsule to nourish an understanding of the Buddha-Dharma - a place where the raw power of nature dwarfs the human sense of concepts and ideas - where pure nature rules supreme -
Glorious purple cloaks and rags of cloud dappled the immense sky as the earth rolled round to meet the sun again - His family had been in these mountains for millennia and the pastoralist felt an awakening sense of familiarity rising in his breast as he slowly ascended into the moon-like terrain of the plateau -
After a couple of hours he passed a small and ancient-looking gompa or monastery on a ridge and heard the distant chant of sacred mantras and tantric hymns - punctuated with the pounding of drums and bells - and the bizarre and darkly powerful roar and wail of the shawms large and small - sending out their message of transcendental wisdom to the pure skies and snowy peaks that loomed all around 
The seemingly cacophonous shawm and drum music of the Tibetan monasteries is said to be an attempt to imitate the sounds of the nadis during the death-process -  This primal and energetic music prepares the acolyte for the natural sounds encountered during the dissolution-process which is entered into with clear yogic awareness -
Yes - even humble herdsmen and agriculturalist nomads knew of such things in this part of the world -  Many centuries of exposure to the wisdom-culture of the Lamas and Yogis who thronged the country had allowed such ideas to permeate into the culture and scraps of mystical knowledge were common currency here -  The harsh environment had conditioned the people to a tough existence that was never far-removed from the reality of death -  This was also a great source of the compassion and understanding that permeated the philosophy of the people -
Lobsang took inspiration and murmured his own mantras for some time - clearing his mind and focusing on his aspirations as he slowly but constantly gained altitude and the sun rose to greet him in a blaze of golden glory -
After another three hours Lobsang drew close to the area of the cave -  He had prepared himself and told himself that a dead man can-t hurt anyone -  Being forewarned he was not really expecting to be particularly fearful of the corpse he was heading towards -

He vividly remembered the previous time he had seen the frozen body - curled up in a fetal position and partially buried under a drift of fine snow -  The image seemed to become clearer in his mind as he approached the cave - as if it had been suppressed all this time and was now being released -
The final couple of miles were quite hard-going - even for one as acclimatized as he was -  He stopped for a brief break and washed some tsampa down with a few mouthfuls of chang -  Sweeping his gaze around him he took in a wonderful collection of snowy peaks spread before him in all directions -  The sky showed a variety of beautiful colours -  At this altitude there was very little dust in the air and this gives a purity of vision and clarity of view -  At one point he saw a string of geese flying over - heading to one of the mountain-lakes hereabouts - Their lonesome cries in the brittle air resounded and echoed - bouncing off the ice-mountainsides and reverberating through the valleys for miles around -  The only other sound was the occasional rumble of a minor avalanche -  They were fairly constant in the region at that season and Lobsang knew enough about the mountains to usually manage to stay out of their path -  Once in a while he had had to run to one side to get out of their way but as they were fairly small this was easy enough -  He replaced the stopple in his drinking-gourd and got to his feet - ready to finish his business with the past and get back to his village before anyone noticed his absence -  Once more his felt-clad feet crunched virgin snow -
Rounding the last hunched ridge of ground he suddenly glimpsed the cave - high up in the side of a rocky cliff-face -  He started climbing -  At one point an eagle soared overhead - its shadow speeding across the ground - black on white -  wingtips flexed -
Reaching the cave at last Lobsang stepped inside - only to recoil in deep shock -  The body of the dead Englishman that he had last seen ten odd years before - huddled against the wall and looking very corpse-like and rigid - was now sitting upright in the Lotus posture - hands resting on knees -  eyes open and turned upwards as if in deep trance - for all the world looking just like a meditating yogi! 

Monday, September 24, 2018

Out Of The Cocoon



Street scenes of the everyday night – Phone-boxes of the street-corner hook-up – Phones off the hook and hangs dangling by the wire – Carriages rattle past oblivious to the pathos of the scene – Here-s where – tendrils whirling – I have had the melting experiences of meeting the Caterpillar – encountering the entity face to decapodic face – Katapliktkos and simultaneously cataleptic this beast flowed with a natural rhythm that defied artifice and nullified the bourgeois mind in one fell swoop -  This Caterpillar was the repository of myriad untold dreams from many creatures of many aeons and epochs of singular collective popular and universal flow and human surge through time-s tapestried halls and space-s unfathomable caverns – the lucky beast!  
Well luck was with the humans too as the gifts of caterpillactic knowledge culture and science would soon be spread amongst – disseminated among and generally bestowed upon a seething and pullulating species of monstrous dream-primate sometimes known as Homo sapiens sapiens – the thinking man-s ape –

Dreading that forces unfavourable to the transmission of these cultural treasures were at work – pitting their unwholesome strength into an attempt to thwart the Caterpillar-s work – he reacted by spinning a cocoon of activity – changing form and occilatory-rate – seeming to become more aethereal yet palpably sentient and present – almost human – no – much more than human – and so capable of seeing into the human heart – the human body and blood – the endocrines and adrenalin – the biological underlay that has such influence on the constitution and thus on the typical thought-process – He could observe all these things with his sweeping – scanning antennae and drink in the essence of any activity to which he was exposed –

Plankton-papyri and ambergris archives were opened and revealed by the hundred feet and the swirling papillae – namely the psychic-antennae but fundamentally he would work by direct-communique – he could talk straight into your mind – thus eliminating the need for the crude semaphore of flapping lips and tongues – the monotonous music of the human voice was obsolete and seemed unutterably primitive once he had established the direct method and cut out the middle-man of verbal verbosity -  Such things as happen in red public phone-boxes at midnight in the main streets of Kernouac towns – namely in Pendoze – a quiet little place by the sea where nothing much ever happens – a cobbled hobgoblin hovel huddling high on ramparts of steel-slate pewter skies -  

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{For your mini Caterpillar chapbook simply print - fold and cut as previously instructed - a video will appear on this one day - meantime - if you-re stuck - ask your kids!}

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Feel like I-m under water – like I-m in a trance and I can-t wake up – My mind is blunt and I can-t wake up -  Handel bludgeons me unconscious with his ancient formal-garden layouts - lead-lethargy is aemic and osseous - invading the body with its insidious weight - puling as gravity pulls and wrapping bladder-wrack around me ankles as I stumble and tumble in slumber I wander and seek and search and wonder still with head aloft unto the sky and to the stars my eye doth shine a twinkling reflection of all this - of all this -

All twinkled in the eye of a reflective movement like the birth - life and explosive death of a vast Universal System - a Tri-Chilocosm - a Maha-Loka - Births coming and going and exploding and popping like thoughts - The thoughts of an ant - The thoughts that fill the head that fills the aunt-s hat - The ant-s heart and the hart-s panting breath - Breathess entranced - the Arhat has no thoughts -

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Inexhaustible realms of consciousness - States of mind - programmes - mental-worlds - mind-sets - beliefs - feelings - feelings - feelings - feel - 

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Death-s Little Imps come and tap you on the shoulder - Mini-deaths - deaths miniaturized and minisculed - death-hints delivered by the Imp Servants of the Skeleton Lord - A bony finger taps you on the clavicle - "You haven-t got forever you know - 
What do you think you-re doing ~  
What do you think you-re doing~" 



Phenomenal flow radiating through the tangible part of the universe - atomic poetry unravelling into molecular chemistry and cellular biological entity - Hallo human - please step forward - you-re on -     It-s your show - You are the star - it-s yours - all yours - your world - take it - take it easy but take it - take it back to the source and shake it - take it to the shiny void - to the misty cloud - to the starry sky - take it away and sing it to life - offer it life and reflect on it -
Ravens and crows have plenty to say -

The last thing you need is more words in your head - but have some anyway - just in case you do - Anything is better than serious media - a squawking crow is a refreshing sound after you-ve enjoyed the sound of ten thousand fiddles steeped overnight in maple-syrup by demented goatherds  - punctuated by the percussion of krogens - carapaces - cocoanuts - goat-skulls - tongueless bells and drums that don-t stick - The sound of falling earth is sweeter than any radio and the sea has more to say than ten million monkeys all chanting the words of Shakespeare - Chaucer and Dickens - So in the light of these revelations you can follow this trail back to the realm of the Caterpillar!

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Bowie Bard of Brixton

We weren’t ready for a world without you-
We don’t know what to do so we wrote a song for you –
Beaming it out to the world receiver –
Easily said, it’s so hard to do –
Easily said, it’s so hard to do –
I’m looking for a world in a grain of rice –
You pick up the phone and you phone paradise –
Hey hey honey, someone’s knockin’ on the door –
I had a late-night flight and my head’s not right –
And that alligator-girl was just outta sight –
The elevator’s bust and I’m tired of hustling –
Honey get me home tonight -

David Bowie – Quicksand – 1972



Pin Ups 2

 

In The Heat Of The Morning -
David Bowie




David Bowie - Silly Boy Blue - 1965



Oh I'll be free
Just like that bluebird
Oh I'll be free
Ain't that just like me...