A poem spoken in the early morning forest to all of humanity.
Sage Awakened-Root, explorer of mountains and mud, step down and reveal the practice of Attentive-Aimlessness for the sake of all [non]beings.
Watch the doors.
A psychospiritual poem.
I just bowed thrice to a Fox, to the sound of a screaming Murder.
It is a thing I’ve been avoiding. I haven’t wanted to discuss addiction. But, in all honesty, addiction has been my teacher and I pay infinite respect to my guru.
Here are some lessons I’ve learned about ‘letting go’.
I’ve laid bouncing between involuntary awareness and black-out blankness. Turning over and over and over like a crocodile in a death roll. It’s all my fault. It’s all perfectly ok. I hear that some monks, during their training, only sleep 3 hours a night.
Open 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. This heart bleeds for you, and for us and for them. I open it further and the blood gushes, filling the infinite mulitverses with a physical and nurturing compassion.
Stuck in the past.