ecomimesis eros ≋ ethos ≋ entheogens
And, after undertaking to go over and pass through these visual-linguistics; upon yielding to relate to another than I who is neither “me” nor “we,” simply remember what speaks to and resonates with you in the forthcoming without looking for proof, truth and certitude. Remembrance is inborn rather than a mausoleum; remembrance is recalled in relationship rather than in clinging to and falling for memory. Let go of whom you have been told and telling yourself to be; let go to remember what speaks to and resonates with you: listening... Let go of the endless pursuit for self-improvement, self-fulfillment and selftranscendence by simply embracing what you have always been and will ever be: a handmaiden rather than an empress and laborer; a caretaker rather than a perpetrator and victim; a remembrance rather than a primate and blood cloth. Resource your inborn nature over researching what is gone for good. Take the good that has been handed forward to you from the past by letting go of all else. Take what has been given without addition and subtraction, multiplication and division... No one is a noun and number; no one is this design or that denomination; that archetype and this alma matter. No one is better, less than nor the same as any other. Each and every one matters equally in nature. Become what you are in letting go of what you habitually, ritualistically and tribally made yourself out to be: an abstraction, algorithm and attachment. No one beholds the all; no one is nothing. Each and every one is but an intercourse and waterfall; a soundbite and witness; a metamorphosis and rainbow of coexistence: heart-mindedness... No one is the wish fulfilling jewel nor junkyard of another. No one undermines nor overrides another; each is their mutual support and challenge in relation to one another. Hence, bring forth what you are here to contribute. Each and every one is but their own salvation in relationship. No one is their own guide and destiny, mentor and mirror, confidant and echo in coexistence. Hence, after undertaking to go over and pass through these visual-linguistics, turn to stillness by relaxing into what is: being here. The precious is as invaluable as the ever-present origin: listening...
Expect not cornfields among icebergs, perfection in impermanence and humbleness from glory. Grammar 101 is like the Covid 19. Everyone is affected by either in one way or another. Next to anyone has an opinion about them. Both are equally viral. Some recover from neither; others claim immunity from being mortal... Expect not to bypass the winter among the seasons, to remain clothed in the presence of growth and to emerge victorious from infallibility. Expect not to have any say over the unforeseen, unanticipated and unwelcomed. Thus, tree shed their leaves, clouds shed their rain and the young shed their innocence...
To be and breathe without having a name and saying a word; to relate and account for what is without belonging anywhere and censorship, ecomimesis is the synaptic link, bridge stone and hang glider between one shore and another horizon. A twinkle no different than the blink of an eye; a twitter akin to the snap of a finger; an intermission between the familiar, ecomimesis is no ferryman and midwife; no archetype and abstraction; no demon and deva. Part misty and part translucent; part whole and part parcel; neither native or alien nor unique and special but simply genuine and solemn, ecomimesis is no pathfinder and guardian, no atom and atman and no thunder and lightning... Enough about that which bears no relevance to address. Who each and every one happens to be is embodied in action rather than divulged in lyrics. Become what you are over falling for whom you believe to be. Go for the true rather than clinging to love. Grow out from entanglement in lieu of craving for affection. Break free from the dependency of need in resourcing the precious: being here. Partake in being here and the benevolent and beautiful, the compassionate and invaluable, the conditioned and numinous are up close and personal beheld in relationship...
To partake in being here goes hand-in-hand with letting go of the womb through which one emerged in this coexistence. The womb contains the memory of the outgrown; neither what is nor the forthcoming. The outgrown makes for the mirage of understanding that keeps one stuck in the past. Hence, the future is fantasized about and confabulated while being here evades one with eyes wide open and a heart fast asleep. Being here is partaken in the present tense of relationship; nowhere else. To migrate from the past to the present, sleepwalking to mindfulness and from entanglement to relationship comes at the expense of thought, feeling and imagination: understanding. Rather than a continuation and extension of the known, the forthcoming awaits in the unknown that no postdated thought, feeling and imagination from the past, outgrown and the bygone can and does contain... The womb and tomb of the bygone and outgrown, memory is just that: an interpretation and thesis; a construct and meaning; a lullaby and pacifier. Memory is the new-age of any outdated return to the past: creed, ethnicity and tradition. Memory is the socio-cultural habit of obsessive-compulsive behavior. In the face and presence of the unknown, next to everyone retreats to the bosom they innocently suckled on as children. Hence, instead of development, there is attachment and instead of ecomimesis, there is anguish, suffering and despair. To pass through the womb to being here involves letting go of the umbilicus cord; it involves letting go of mother and father; brother and sister, beloved and relative; friend and foe. Letting go concurs with relaxing into what is; letting go is to render oneself vulnerable to the unknown, inborn and forthcoming...
Letting go is humbling rather than glorifying; unwinding rather than confining; enlivening rather than depleting. Letting go cannot be done; not through this technique nor that practice. Letting go dawns in becoming aware of what is held on to, venerated, fallen for and absentmindedly regurgitated. Letting go is no achievement, no homecoming and no discovery. Letting go is no theory and no yoga; no quantum physics and no archipelagic ritual; no medicine and no initiation. Letting go is affirmative and open-ended rather than dismissive and closed-minded. Letting go has no safety net other than surrender; letting go involves no certainty other than trust in evolution’s ecology that informs and defines, sustains and supports, prunes and challenges each and every one’s being here. A process rather than a merchandise; an articulation rather than an artifact; a witnessing rather than a withering, to take being here for granted makes for all but a rude awakening...
Turn toward the unknown whereby the bygone rattles through your outgrown skin akin to a sand storm, cyclone and the eruption of a volcano. Turn toward the unknown to come to ease and at peace with being here. Turn toward the corpus of aliveness over clutching to the cadaver of thought, feeling and imagination: memory. Be brave rather than complacent; partake in being here rather than siding with boredom and entertainment. Become consumed by the intercourse of relationship that rests in aloneness over substituting aliveness with consumerism. Unearth what you are here to contribute over fishing for a plea bargain and a trade agreement. Remember rather than forgive; resource rather than forget; reflect rather than neglect. Inquire rather than presume; embrace rather than project; penetrate rather than prostitute the precious by making a name for yourself. Be bold rather than polite; kind rather than superficial; respectful rather than misgiving... The aliveness of any corpus rests in mutual respect: relationship. To relate is a matter of respect rather than romance, religion and research. Respectfulness distinguishes anyone without undermining, disenfranchising and overriding anything. Respectfulness dignifies anything without ado, demand and embellishment from anyone. Respectfulness delineates anyone and anything without standing in the midst of what should and should not be according to this grandfather and that mermaid; that credo and this dogma; this theorem and that entitlement. Respectfulness nullifies, vandalizes and violates no one and nothing... Respectfulness makes for showing up over playing hide-and-seek, for undressing what matters over claiming sanity and for retorting to silence in the presence of duality. Respectfulness makes for dishing oneself for dinner in yielding to vulnerability and for taking hold of courage and faith without which no one breaks through the eggshell and bubble, cocoon and armor that curtails and suffocates the forthcoming from flowering: understanding...
The holy grail of ideology; the sacred scroll of identity; the sanctimonious scepter of intentionality, understanding is as reptilian as survival, as limbic as sexuality and as neocortical as novelty. A portal and passage rather than a platform and podium to camp out on, understanding makes for the stepping stone into the unknown. Mistaken for a pasture to populate and harvest, settle into and set up shop, understanding turns to a graveyard, genocide and necropolis. Understanding provides respite from tabula rasa past which the causes and conditions for it percolate to the surface of awareness: attachment. What understanding provides, must be let go of in the following; otherwise, growth turns to grief; aliveness to anguish and being here to suffering. Understanding is let go of in embracing inquiry, contemplation and surrender in actuality. Understanding is let go of in resourcing the inborn by facing the forthcoming without forecasting what the unknown, presumably, beholds... What happens to be voiced here is in over their heads for most. Because, what happens to be voiced here is derived from the heart-mindedness of being here: listening. Present in the absence of understanding’s fight, flight and freeze defense mechanism, listening is an offering rather than an invite; an interlude rather than an evaluation; an encounter with what matters rather than an anointment, enthronement and fortification. Listening speaks to that which no one can put in words: being here. Fluid as the wind, liquid as water and sensuous as the air, being here is inherently no different. Pride, prejudice and possessiveness caused that which was formerly in flow to contract, calcify and clog. And so, a finely interwoven organism that was in tune with the cosmic whole turned to an autonomously driven and entangled cocoon of blood and bone, egg and sperm, hair and nail...
Having traversed from superficiality onto what matters and crossed from commonality into an otherworldly environment, what does the heart denote but the air canal and wind channel of nature’s respiration. A gateway rather than a gas To settle meaning and interpretation station for and oil pump, the heartunderstanding, is to the mind what aliveness is toand being here. contentment is is bound to goaliveness up in smoke the road, as show-cased Aliveness not striving; is not down seeking; aliveness is not surviving...
on the day of calamity. No one takes anything past the present tense of is to be The here intercourse for a purpose. Aliveness is relationship discerning rather than being Aliveness here: relationship. of coexistence, is quantum physical. Such is to thesettle heart-mindedness of what withoutbiochemical ownershipand and settlement. Hence, for meaning and matters: nature. runs The ground of face beingofhere, nature creator and no contentment counterand andfirmament flies in the being here.is Innodeath’s pantheon phenomena the beholder bear and mirror of clarity’s vibrant void: presence, pride,ofprejudice andbut possessiveness no value; the same stillness... goes for self, status and success. What matters in death is whether aliveness outgrew attachment or succumbed to grasping; the No one can fall out from nature’s holding environment any more than anyone is the forthcoming unearthedEveryone from theisbygone and whether creator was of anything. each other’s support the andoutgrown challenge without crushed or encouraged the blossoming of the inborn... exception. Faced right, left and center with this irrefutable mirroring, therefore humankind has turned away from nature, only to fall for their own understanding over embracing what matters: in-sight, com-passion and re-cognition...
What matters in death is whether letting go was actualized in the midst Consequently and ever humankind has put sentient life matters along themselves in of life or forsaken under the since, pretense of knowing better. What in straight-jacket of what should should notthe be,precious only to forfeit their the sense, sanity death, amatters no differently in life:and to resource in facing and aliveness. Hence, instead of re-cognition, there is ritual; instead of comunknown. To strive and seek how to ever, possibly, return to imaginary passion, there is worship and instead of in-sight, there is stupor, dogma and paradise and pure land, undermines and overrides, erodes and nullifies consumerism... being here in likewise manners than such disorders as cancer and schizophrenia. To push andfor shove howsanity to make the impossible To prostitute aliveness tradition, for science and sense happen, for understanding results makes in none than man breakdown, calamity. imperious The notionfallacy, as forother a “dead walking.”disaster Such isand humankind’s summed up in:death divideis et impera. comes fromrespiration... division is the longing for that has no motion, present in What each and every salvation. What comes from conquest is a hole in the chest. And so, pause and ponder for a moment what might have caused this condition?...
Death is as impermanent as each and every ecomimesis. A reboot rather than an exit; a recall rather than a discharge; a revision rather than a resort and refuge, death is life’s ecology; life is death’s respiration. Life and death account for the evolution of any dragon fly; a beetle with six legs, three body parts, four wings and no sting. Neither first or last nor above and below this and that, evolution is the perpetual locomotion of being here: desire. No Santa Clause and no Snow White; no Shiva and no Shakti; no lingam and no vulva but the twilight of aspiration and sacrifice, willfulness and renunciation, intentionality and surrender, evolution is the gravity that matters. What matters in each and every moment; from pre-eternity to post-mortality, is the metamimesis of relationship: being here, in the absence of which nothing and no one matters, quite literally... Hence, turn toward the unknown whereby what matters surfaces and ascends from embeddedness. Turn toward the unknown for the sake of being here or else fade away in the morass of metaphorical unity. No one knows the tomorrow that awaits those that face it; not those that hustle and buzzle, agonize and argue over conjecture. The tomorrow looks different than anyone makes it out to be today. The tomorrow is ecological; neither matriarchal nor militaristic. The tomorrow is evolutionary; neither sexual nor scientific. The tomorrow is empathic; neither selfish nor selfless. The tomorrow dawns past the day of calamity; past the knowledge of the known has collapsed in upon itself. To reduce the intercourse of communication, coexistence, to graspable reality is the same as trying to put the wind in a straightjacket...
Graspable reality is the outgrowth of attachment rather than the ingrowth of evolution’s ecology. An apparition like deductive reasoning; meaning made of limbic coupling and doings done from reptilian reactivity, graspable reality is a figment of thought, feeling and imagination: memory. A projection that appears as real as the motion pictures in a movie, the stories told in a novel or the news disseminated by the media, graspable reality is the contraction, calcification and clog up, the pandemonium, gore and holocaust of undigested, split off and exiled anguish, suffering and despair. Graspable reality is as mesmerizing as memory. Remembrance is as organic as evolution’s ecology. Remembrance is inherent to being here in contrast to memory: the socio-cultural habit of self-talk, make-believe and tunnel-vision. Fact or fiction? This is left and remains for each and every one to decide on their own behalf; a decision that distinguishes one from another in no uncertain terms. Not to decide is not an option any more than not to die is not a choice. Fact of fiction?... Be it as it may. Listening evades next to anyone; occupied as most everyone is with their own solar and imaginary soul system. Entranced and spellbound by graspable reality, listening is treated as a commodity rather than related to the heart-mindedness of being here: speech. Hence, instead of evolution’s ecology, there is materialism; instead of intimacy, there is spirituality and instead of coexistence, there is competition. Speech, the soma of any syllable; the character of any connotation; the awe of any awareness—from the visceral to the virtual and the sentient to the sensuous—is lost on anyone in the absence of listening. The web of listening’s yarn; the ocean of listening’s odyssey; the author of listening’s acknowledgment, speech distinguishes information from vanity, organics from mechanics and remembrance from memory...
The listening in every communication, speech is as ethereal as the heart-mindedness of being here is causal rather than corporeal or celestial in nature. There is no listening without speech and no speech without the intercourse of dependent origination: coexistence. Rather than grasping for meaning and understanding, listening is as discerning as digestion, tactile as gratitude and as catalytic rather than cataclysmic as surrender. Thus, without further ado, the following is turned to: the ecomimesis of eros, ethos, entheogens...
Past philosophy and poetry, there is simply being here: sound and sight, taste and touch, scent and sense. Before, between and beyond being here, stillness is always and already present. Voluminous as the void, compassionate as clarity and serene as silence, stillness has no voice and visual, no contour and content and no sex and self… In stillness, the motion and mass, the gravity and gradient, the dawn and dusk of evolution’s ecology dwells: nature. The order in any chaos, the syntax of any noun and the gateway between one and another, nature beholds whatever arises and descends, is conceived and decays, embraced and denied. No mirage and no parody, no altar and no fallacy, nature is neither womb nor tomb but the mirror and matrix, synergy and symbiosis, cause and effect of form and emptiness...
But, who is I that speaks for rather than in the name of nature? Another wannabe of insight and intelligence? Another soothsayer of thought to be enlightenment and realization? Another harlequin of borrowed feathers and copycatted cherubims? Who is I but the listening in every meeting, the vulnerability in every discernment and the echo in every reflection: the conscience. Forever veiled and beyond approach, the conscience grounds each and every one in their indivisible individuality of being here. Irreducible to nature, the conscience accounts for what matters: coexistence... The intercourse of relationship, the wellspring of communication and the rainbow of awakening, coexistence is nature's action-logic; nature is coexistence's wisdom-display. The ever-present origin is no different: evolution's ecology. Listening asks for no more than engagement; neither fellowship nor understanding. Listening simply denotes what language communicates: information. Any information is but the spore and sprout, the fragment and fractal, value and virtue of nature’s wisdom-display, coexistence’s action-logic and evolution’s ecology: eros, ethos, entheogens...
The inkling and incentive that arouses and drives every motion; from chaos to the cosmos and confusion to clairvoyance, eros is just that: the passionate breath whereby any aspiration is enlivened—desire. The stardust and saltwater, the snowflake and dewdrop that spring from eros’ airflow, desire is the mountain of any valley, the apex of any climax and the sorrow of any suffering. The bud rather than the bloom, the stem rather than the sap, the sun rather than the shadow, desire is eros’ artisan; eros is desire’s impetus, incentive and inkling. So, what? Why bother?... As long as going around in the same downtrodden tracks turns out to be gratifying, next to no one looks past their own satisfaction. This proves to be problematic in that nothing is permanent and everlasting. Hence, to look beyond in contemplating the preciousness of being here is compulsory rather than an option, which makes for the choice to decide. Namely, to tune in or out from what matters; to heed the calling of coexistence or fall for one’s own love, peace and harmony...
No one can outrun nor outsmart the conscience; not in this world nor in the neverlands of nirvanic heaven. The “I” of any “me;” the “us” of any “we;” the accountability of any being here, the conscience is desire’s mentor and eros’ biography. Neither graspable nor imaginal, the conscience informs without interference, directs without command and absolves without forgiveness. Yet, in a world where money, technology and conformity are the sole denominators and supreme pinnacles of interpersonal relationship, the conscience accounts for all but an abstraction. Hence, instead of mutual support and challenge, there is the conquest, competition and comparison In lieu of vulnerability, there is pride, prejudice and pretentiousness. And instead of gratitude for being here, there is unabated idealism; from this construct to that paradigm shift and that priestess and godmother to that patriarch and godhead...
Rather than a lip-service, prayer and thanksgiving, gratitude is the indebtedness with which each and every one is endowed. No one is the creator nor cocreator of their being here. Each and every one is the handmaiden of dependent origination. Gratitude is the passover of handing on the precious in resourcing and bringing forth the inborn over getting lost in what is wanted, wished for and willed under the influence of pleasure, procreation and prosperity. No one is born as a blank sheet; each and every one is indebted to the bygone. Gratitude is beheld in shouldering the trust and telos rather than the pity and pathos, in yielding to the depth rather than the debt and in living up to the unknown over lamenting the flaws and faults of the past... Gratitude is the sacrifice of each and every one’s self-actualization. A chick has but no other choice than breaking the egg it is conceived in to become a hen. A hen has but no other choice than pairing up with a rooster for offspring. A roster has but no other choice than unearthing the inborn to grow past its given constitution. There is no first and last in this dynamic other than the self-actualization of dependent origination. Self-actualization is the passover of what is precious in nature: gratitude. Selfactualization is the abdication of ideology, identification and innocence that begins and ends with sacrifice: surrender...
To ignore, blend out and jettison what has been given under the pretext of being better than coexistence, keeps anyone forever caught in anguish, suffering and despair. Anguish, suffering and despair, like sickness, old age and death or thunderstorms, tsunamis and twisters, are inherent to any becoming and passover; any meeting and parting; any arousal and effacement. Anguish is met where choice leaves no other option than to decide. Suffering is faced where desire supersedes surrendering to that which grounds each and every one in their indivisible individuality of being here: the conscience. Despair is had in forfeiting to unearth and resource, bring forth and pass on the precious: gratitude...
To absentmindedly strive after what is wanted, wished for and willed, renders anyone and anything expendable. Such is the allure of power, profit and prestige: vanity. The antonym of gratitude, vanity is the sellout of the precious to the highest bidder: graspable reality; attachment. Hence, there is denial; from desire to death and sex to self. Rooted in clinging, constriction and comparison whereby the bygone is recreated ad infinitum, attachment not only undermines the intercourse of relationship and overrides the wellspring of communication but also erodes the rainbow of awakening in equal measures. If all that matters and counts is the relentless procreation of graspable reality, denial is bound to have the upper hand over the integrity of being here: ethos... The fate, mark and scare of conscientiousness; that is organic life from the least to the most complex organism, ethos connotes the whole rather than the all of any part; the atmosphere rather than the nucleus of any phenomenon; the integrity rather than the morality of any mentality. Neither celestial nor terrestrial but cerebral; neither religious nor reasonable but neuronal; neither judgmental nor indifferent but discerning, ethos is the vision in every voice; the speech in every linguistic and the intimacy in every witnessing. What the mind is to the body, space is to time and faith is to courage, ethos is to eros. One without the other is like a map without a territory; an ocean without water; a bow without an arrow. Such is the morass of metaphorical unity: delusion...
What bridges and bonds eros’ breath to ethos’ integral wholeness are entheogens; the go-betweens nature’s action-logic and coexistence’s wisdom-display. Numberless as molecules, entheogens are the messengers between the bygone and the forthcoming; the ignored and unknown; the exiled and fixated. The psychoactive and free radicals of evolution’s ecology, entheogens vision spells recognition; the source-code and still-point that renders being here precious: compassion. For compassion to dawn, another than I must be recognized up close and personal. And for recognition to come about, evolution’s ecology must be first-handedly embraced, beheld and imbibed without excuse and argument: eros, ethos, entheogens...
What else is there to add but commentaries. Each and every one, any whole and any part, flourishes in relationship to one another. Coexistence is a given rather than a take on what could and should not be. Coexistence is the factuality of being here whose inborn predisposition, propensity and potential is to grow out and up from embeddedness: attachment. Being here; in whatever shape and skin, is evolutionary rather than entropic; conditional rather than proprietary; provisional rather than eternal. The locus and focus, mundus and nexus of being here is to grow out and up from down under the morass of metaphorical unity: magic, myth and meaning that make for romance no different than religion, reason no different than research and recreation no different than remorse... The endless pursuit of desire leads down the same highway as striving to renounce it; one makes for delusion, the other for denial. Desire is no culprit and no Ahriman but simply the artisan of eros’ airflow: passion. Barren of passion, impetus has no value, integrity holds no virtue and interconnectivity bears no standing. What remains in the absence of passion is self-talk, make-believe and tunnel-vision: consumerism. Lost and caught up in the trade bargain of need fulfilment, what each and every one is here to contribute, drowns amidst surviving to live. Hence, instead of coexistence, there is nihilism; instead of relationship, there is righteousness and instead of emergence from embeddedness, there is abracadabra: from alchemy to algebra, gender to grammar and metaphysics to marriage...
Aliveness, the passionate embrace of the existential givens, is the rebirth in every death, the metamorphosis in every life and the effacement in every attachment. Aliveness cannot be had but only partaken. Aliveness cannot be realized but only imbibed. Aliveness cannot be transcended but only resourced. To claim what no one owns yet everyone takes as their own begotten real estate makes for a constipated riverbed; a swamp full of fertile soil and empty of fresh waters. Had by power, profit and prestige, aliveness is mistaken for procreation, faith for fear and courage for conquest... To reroute what has gone haywire and out of hands involves the same than averting a nuclear reactor in meltdown from completely falling through the gutters; namely the ceasing of operation, the containment of the radioactive area and the revival of what is present from origin: listening. Clinging, craving and comparison turn any growth into a graveyard; any forest into a coffin and any galaxy into a mortified planet...
Eons ago, before humankind veered off their inborn nature to wade into an ever-deepening bloodbath of hunger and thirst; an ever-heightening slaughter of predator and prey and an ever-widening boneyard of fear and trembling, intimacy was beheld as the integration of symbiotic coupling rather than maternal attachment. Pleasure was embraced as the assimilation of passion rather than related to the inflammation of desire. Sexuality stood for the synergy of mutual support and challenge rather than the oneness of plurality... Eons ago, when vulnerability was considered a strength rather than a defect, integrity was the validity of virtue rather than prostituted as an expenditure, and when interconnectivity was seen as the mastermind of empathy, compassion and recognition rather than an imaginary thought field of sex, soul and spirit, eros, ethos, entheogens tantamounted to nature, coexistence and evolution’s ecology respectively...
What has humankind lived up and comes down to since their autobiographical inception other than wasteland of plastic bags; a dumping ground of ideologies; a reservoir of anguish, suffering and despair. To remake what cannot be undone is akin to a heart transplant. Unlike an atomic power plant, an organic compound can be transplanted in spacetime, as done around this globe day in and year out. A heart transplant involves the termination of one embodiment for the remake of another embodiment that only stands a chance of continuance in undergoing such an operation. Rather than a surgical procedure, the remake of you, humankind, is the contribution of those that have been sacrificing their heart for it... What has evolution’s ecology in common with the Biblical story of Cain and Abel? Equal spores of the same rhizome that roots every sparkle in being here, mycelium begets penicillin no different than the sacrament of psilocybin. The oldest and most common psychoactive entheogen on this earthly plane, psilocybin beholds the prehistoric sacrament from which the perennial wisdom traditions derive their intuition, insight and intelligence. The intake of psychoactive entheogens is as interwoven in humankind’s constitution as their reliance on oxygen. Sacramental rather than recreational; holographic rather than hallucinogenic and virtual rather than paleontological, to outlaw and criminalize the intake and offering of psychoactive entheogens makes for the same as torture: insanity...
The letting be in every closure and the embracement of every anew arousal, entheogens “do no harm” in contrast to legally sanctified fire water: alcohol. Rather, entheogens spur the inborn to be accounted for: wakefulness. Eons ago, before the cosmos was flattened to the universe, conscientiousness crushed to morality, aliveness levelled to memory and evolution’s ecology was confined to the G-spot and G-d, eros was their breath, ethos their ethnicity and entheogens were humankind’s sanity. Gone for good, the past can be neither mended nor revived but only redeemed in the forthcoming future of the present tense... What more is there left to say, truly? In the face of terminal cancer, to bring one’s affair in order makes for a calm abiding passover. To resource what matters is a decision to embody rather than a bucket list to fulfill and final solution to carry out. To part from here in peace follows on the heels of listening. Before it all went awry, humankind was a grace and grit rather than a trial and error. Nowadays, humankind is the loyal devotee, holy warrior and liberal servant of their own slavery; from tribe to “me,” nation to “we” and the global internet to “thee” ...
Ensnared in their memory projection, it all but, seemingly and apparently, evades humankind than a higher evolved organism is less dependent on their environmental conditions than a lower one. Having backslidden and devolved a hundred-and-eighty degrees from where was set out, humankind is headed down their collectively shared suicide mission in full throttle; utterly entranced as each and every one is with their own health, wealth and happiness. To maintain innocence at the behest of ignorance suffocates inquiry no different than mistaking impermanence for infallibility... A tango of mutual support and challenge rather than a chess match of white against black, “us” against “them” and good against evil that makes for the worst atrocities in any history, being here is collaborative. All else is a figment of imagination. The only winner in any warfare spells anguish, suffering and despair. Being here is dependent in origination; from oxygen to embodiment and organics to sustainability. Not a puzzle to solve nor a task to master, being here is a matter of engagement rather than a battle for contentment...
To dish out hope in the presence of acknowledging what is, makes for the same as promising a happy ending in the onslaught of calamity: pretentiousness. Bygone for long upon a falling star is seen on the sky’s firmament, what is human in humankind has all but vanished. Hence, humans call themselves a primate in their amnesia and view themselves as divine in their schizophrenia. Harsh and brutal as this may sound and be received, as such, to acknowledge what is reaps no reward other than coming to peace and at ease with being here... Neither a phantom, illusion nor a dream in contrast to graspable reality with which women are as much identified as men and either is as much enamored as their talk about tradition and truth, heritage and consciousness, womb and martyrdom, being here is inherently as fluid as the wind, liquid as water and as precious as the invaluable, untouchable and immeasurable: clarity...
Void as the emptiness of form, clarity beholds the stillness in which being here rests. The uncreated, unconditioned and uncompounded contrast of coexistence, clarity is the other than I that must be recognized for compassion to root and bloom in evolution’s ecology. The wakefulness in any impetus; the conscientiousness in any integrity, the mindfulness in any interconnectivity, clarity is no additive, no enlightenment and no fallout but rather the gap and pause, effacement and witnessing in and of recognition... Beheld in the midst of being here without going anywhere nor doing anything, clarity has no origin and, as such, can be neither researched, made happen nor realized; all of which merely stands in the way and prevents clarity from being recognized in the intercourse of communication: relationship. No one can talk over nor turn clarity into an idol of their own making. Clarity has no genesis and, therefore, is neither caused by something nor the effect of anything. Devoid of any and all attributes, clarity has no genus, does not spawn nor is begotten by any one gene and genius... Clarity alone beholds the answer to any question; the resolution to any misgiving and the compassion for any anguish, suffering and despair. Met only in facing the unknown that is resourced in bringing forth the inborn, clarity is never-present nor ever-absent. Always other than what is, clarity is the eternal contrast of being here without which nature’s action-logic is as empty of value, coexistence’s wisdom-display is as vacant of virtue as barren the rainbow of awakening is of color...
No canvas and no brush stroke; no mortar and no sculpture; no script and no performance, clarity is neither the same as nor different than the integral whole of body-mind and spacetime: the cosmos. No Big Bang and no Great Spirit, the cosmos is ineffable in knowledge. Thus, turn to what matters overs clinging to self-talk, make-believe and tunnel-vision. Turn to listening over getting lost in what is wanted, wished for and willed on the hands of delusion and denial: memory. Turn inward whereby the outward comes to rest in evolution’s ecology: being here. Acknowledge what is over falling for graspable reality: desire. Become what you have always been and will ever be in nature’s action-logic and coexistence’s wisdom-display: eros’ handmaiden, ethos’ caretaker and entheogens’ remembrance...
Freely given, please consider making a financial contribution for these visuallinguistics to further the integral cause of the house of synergies; a place to meet oneself in relationship and face the unknown up close and personal: https://www.paypal.com/donate?business=W9KNZSY74NEHE&no_recurring =0&currency_code=USD Thanksgiving is reciprocal rather than a lip-service; sacrificial rather than an empty gesture; action-logical rather than passive-complacent. In passing on what has been freely received, give and take wax and wane with the ebb and flow of being here. With gratitude and equal appreciation, thank you! https://spark.adobe.com/page/H8fr57g8w9ZMp/
nature's action-logic
Being Here: the virtue of the integral whole
being
a w e
recognition: the witnessing of clarity
e r o S
e v o l u t i o n s
e t h o s
here
e n t h e o g e n s
e c o l o g y
Integral Whole: the value of being here
a v e
Neuronal:
sensitive
visceral
synaptic
≈
impulsivity
Personal:
inquisitive
vocal
symbiotic
≈
individuality
Communal:
reflective
visual
synergistic
≈
interconnectivity
Integral:
contemplative
reciprocal
empathic
≈
integrity
Ecological:
cognitive
cerebral
morphologic
≈
intimacy
Causal:
ineffable
nondual
holographic
≈
infinity
a r t coexistence’s wisdom-display
clarity: the stillness of compassion
E R O S
E T H O S
E N T H E O G E N S
ignorance: to blend out and gloss over the existential givens whereby attachment comes about... attachment: to cling to and fall for graspable reality: the self-sporadic, soul-solaric and spirit-cryptomanic phantasm of power, profit and prestige...
The whole of evolution’s ecology went into the making of humankind’s being here; from the stardust of the cosmic ocean to the saltwater of dependent origination. What is inborn in humankind is as awesome as the outgrowth of mycelium’s “Fantastic Fungi.” To resource and bring forth the inborn, validates what went into humankind’s making. All else is a figment of imagination. To settle for progeny, technology and notoriety is neither good and bad, relative and irrelevant nor sacred and profane but rather utterly futile, equally in vain and wholeheartedly mistaken. Nature is no amusement park, battle field and hospital ward; coexistence is no planetary placenta, play mobile and call girl; evolution’s ecology is no fairytale, laboratory and mirage...
nature: the action-logic of becoming and being here; relationship... coexistence: the intercourse of communication; conscientiousness... ecomimesis: the impetus of any art, the integrity of any ave and the interconnectivity of any awe; eros, ethos, entheogens...
evolution’s ecology: the ebb and flow of alone and togetherness; the metamorphosis of what is present from origin...
I release anyone from having to complete, satisfy and fulfill me. I release the bygone from excuse, argument and prejudice. I release the held onto in yielding to the heartmindedness of courage and faith. I release “me” to become what I might be: listening... In and through listening, being here is embraced; the unknown is faced; what matters is brought forth and gratitude is beheld. In and through listening, the precious rises up and out from down under deep and dreamless sleep: inborn wakefulness...
ecomimesis