It can be such a weird reality sometimes. I have to say that I find inspiration in some of the most unusual places and have come to realize that I just never know when or where such movement of spirit will happen. I guess I have learned to just take it as it comes and to appreciate the movement as it occurs. Such appreciation is as fleeting as the movement itself, and nothing becomes more apparent then the futility of grasping such outward signs of love then when I find myself in the contented state of my inspired mind.
I was fortunate to be reading a friend's posting on relationships, and in understanding the recent loss she had one could easily see the outward expressions of pain and the resulting eagerness she had to overcome the suffering her attachment to another created. The ego works in crazy ways in this instant, with the action of blaming the other for her own suffering followed by the ignoring of the reaction she was having to the suffering followed by the pretense of indifference at the loss itself. This observation got me wondering, what is this idea we have created about relationships and how does this idea correspond to the human condition? This rather boring discussion I have been having with myself asks to be shared with others for reasons why I have not discovered (or created) yet.
I begin looking at this dynamic not in the dualistic way most of us see things, but through the eyes of a Being who sees things in three "dimensions". Utilizing this triad, one can see clearly the advent of suffering in one's life. We create the conditions by which we suffer in our attachment to something that is not real. We create everything in our lives, from conditions that allow love or hate, joy or sadness, misery or happiness. I don't see us actually creating misery for example, I see us as knowing misery and then creating the conditions by which we experience misery. The same can be said of any physical or mental reaction we have in this existence.
Since we create these conditions, we are the Creator. In my remembrance of "Who I am", I see me as the Creator experiencing Himself by knowing what I am not. In order to experience happiness, I must first know sadness. In order to experience misery, I must first know joy. In order to experience Heaven I must first know Hell. In order to experience Enlightenment I must first know suffering. Now, I remember this quite clearly and my spirit tells me this is truth each time I am inspired while expanding on this truth with the realization that none of this is "bad". Sadness is not bad, happiness is not good. Both are equally important to the spiritual being having the most human of experiences, which is our purpose in the first place. Without the necessary sadness I could not have the purpose of experiencing either the sadness or the joy. Therefore, that sadness is just as good as the happiness to the spirit, regardless of what the ego tells me is real.
This may appear to be a very dualistic approach, but I can't see it that way as I study it in the very three dimensional way my spirit exists. In approaching this in a manner of spirit, I see that three distinct areas exist in any human experience the spirit may have. The spirit has no choice but to live in this "world of three", for without that world (what we call the universe), the spirit cannot experience itself. The three areas are: Creator, Creation, Experience. Father, Son, Holy Spirit. That Which Gives Rise To , That Which is Risen, That Which Is. These three things, in whichever way you wish to describe them, exists in order the the Creator to experience Itself (creation) through Experience. Experience is what exists as a condition of creation. While this is not a new approach or definition, it is the way my spirit speaks to me when I am willing and able to listen.
In this idea we have called "relationships" it is important to note that I am speaking specifically about the human relationships we call "love", but are really nothing of the sort for most of us. For most of us, "loving relationships" are creations of our mind. Our minds create the condition of "love" and the relationship is born. Now of course this is not real love, we attach conditions to the condition by which we must continue in this relationship. Each of us must be faithful, kind, considerate, truthful, and whatever other conditions we may place on each other in order for the relationship to qualify as "loving". We know deep down somewhere that True Love does not place such conditions on anything, in fact the act of being in True Love eliminates any conditions and therefore is not a condition unto itself. Rather, our creation of the condition we call a "loving relationship" is very egoic in nature, so is never very permanent even in its longest durations. Imagine the peace and harmony you would feel if you could just relinquish your demands for the existence of conditions you have placed on the loving relationship your ego created. Imagine the lack of suffering you would entertain not only upon yourself, but on the one you believe you love.
Impossible, I know. You could not tolerate a cheating partner. You could not tolerate lies. You could not tolerate the other person being who they are at that moment if that person did not fit your mold of an ideal partner. You create in your relationship the necessary quid pro quo that all egoic relationship have. You need something from them in order to give something of yourself or else the result is suffering and the experience of misery for both of you. The other person suffers for having to pretend, you suffer for having created the condition by which pretending is necessary. The roles we play are the swords we live by, and those of us who live by the sword will surely die from it. Only True Love can heal the wounds that sword will surely inflict one day.
One must understand that all of this is necessary and therefore is not bad. It is PERFECT. The real question here is whether or not this experience will lead you to a better understanding of why you had it in the first place and of who you are. That is the purpose of experience and of this illusion we call reality, so that you may determine who you are and find harmony in the existence you can create with this higher vision of yourself. Life is not a process of discovery, it is a process of creation, and as we create our existence each time around, we are allowed unique insight and access to the voice within that is our guide. The question is, are we looking and are we willing to listen?
I guess the idea of loving relationships is one we all hate to have. They are painful at times. Most of them end up hurting us in the most profound ways. Yet each of these are opportunities for exploration and further creation. The cycle of creation never ends; it begins in Love, exists in Love, and destroys itself in Love so that it can create anew. You have created the condition of love from your spirit (Pure Love) so that you can have this great experience we call "life". It is the very act of in-spiraton. Embrace it all, enjoy each moment, and find that glimpse of awareness that is born from the experience itself. It is your purpose, and to that end there can be no higher.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
So, I ask you all one very simple question. Is judging something real or an illusion an act of ego or an act of Divine knowledge?
Every time I hear "this is a dream" or "you are dreaming, man" or "be aware of the dream" something just does not sit right with me. It's as if I have to force myself to believe this dream stuff. Perhaps "force" isn't a good word, but it's as if I am eating a rotten apple and pretending it tastes good. I am eating it because I want to know it, but something is telling me that what I am eating just isn't right for me.
Here is what I know to this point. I am present in a creation in which I had no part in my memory. In this creation I have certain abilities to create. However, I have no abilities to change the media that the creation itself is present in. I can change the sculpture but I can't change the marble no matter how much I try or believe I can. It remains marble. Storms rage. Tsunamis strike. Earthquakes rumble and galaxies collide. Suns burn out and die. Novas create regardless of how much I think none of it is real. To those that say the darkness cannot defeat the light I just need to point to the center of the Milky Way to prove otherwise. In a universe of relativity there will always need to be an opposite.
Yet, to some I am dreaming. Fine, I get it. But what do I do with the voice that tells me that in judging something as a "dream" I am creating it as a dream. What part of me is the creator in this situation? Is it me the Being knowing what I know in Absoluteness or is it me that man thinking what I know in ego? The voice inside me simply says, "Let it go. You cannot fathom the marble you are using, you only know the chisel and what you see. Allow it to be and focus on the sculpture."
So that is where I am at. So I turn to you, and ask simply and humbly, "is judging this existence as a dream an act of ego or and act of God?"
Peace.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Every time I hear "this is a dream" or "you are dreaming, man" or "be aware of the dream" something just does not sit right with me. It's as if I have to force myself to believe this dream stuff. Perhaps "force" isn't a good word, but it's as if I am eating a rotten apple and pretending it tastes good. I am eating it because I want to know it, but something is telling me that what I am eating just isn't right for me.
Here is what I know to this point. I am present in a creation in which I had no part in my memory. In this creation I have certain abilities to create. However, I have no abilities to change the media that the creation itself is present in. I can change the sculpture but I can't change the marble no matter how much I try or believe I can. It remains marble. Storms rage. Tsunamis strike. Earthquakes rumble and galaxies collide. Suns burn out and die. Novas create regardless of how much I think none of it is real. To those that say the darkness cannot defeat the light I just need to point to the center of the Milky Way to prove otherwise. In a universe of relativity there will always need to be an opposite.
Yet, to some I am dreaming. Fine, I get it. But what do I do with the voice that tells me that in judging something as a "dream" I am creating it as a dream. What part of me is the creator in this situation? Is it me the Being knowing what I know in Absoluteness or is it me that man thinking what I know in ego? The voice inside me simply says, "Let it go. You cannot fathom the marble you are using, you only know the chisel and what you see. Allow it to be and focus on the sculpture."
So that is where I am at. So I turn to you, and ask simply and humbly, "is judging this existence as a dream an act of ego or and act of God?"
Peace.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A Moment on Top of the Mountain
Today I got to enjoy many moments of love. Pure, unadulterated bliss, harmony, and peace. I felt today that I was Love, and a joy permeated my body and soul in a way that made me feel as if I was one with the entire universe. I could feel the creation inside me...life anew in the universe created in and all around me.
I meditated this morning before dawn, lying in bed absorbing all that was around and in me. I felt light and completely content with where this moment had me...and then the next...and then the next. Each moment passed me by like clouds on a breezy spring day. I took them in and let them go. I loved each of them and missed them not as they faded into what was to allow what is.
It is in such joy that I can see the experience of my life that brought me to the summit of this Mountain of Bliss. At such heights, I can look around and survey all that was without needing to relive those moments. This spot allows you to reflect without becoming the reflection, feel without being the feeling, see without the attachment to and creating what you see as what you are.
From this vantage point, I could see the storm brewing. I could hear the screams, the smacks, the callous "I did this because I love you." I could hear a young boy crying for the pain to end. I could see a lonely, dejected soul just trying to fit in. I could see a mother beating her son into submission. I could hear the prayers for it all to end.
I could see an adolescent boy wondering if he could stop the storms that raged in his mind. I could feel his torment at the bruises and the welts forming on his body. I could sense the agony of isolation and unending feeling of contempt he felt others had for him. I could see him on his knees begging God to "let this cup pass from me" only to have His will be done. I could see the look in her eyes as she struck out with leather, hand, fist, or any other object that could get the job done.
I could see the violence invade his soul, shutting down the once loving and kind boy as he grew into a violent and angry man. I could see the damage left in his wake, the blood, the pain, the fear and the anger. The river of anger never ceased in this man's mind; it flowed freely and often flooded his body with contentment at having shared this pain with another in the most violent and angry of ways.
I could also see the tears form in the eyes of those this man loved. He needed control. He thirsted for power. He was afraid of it all. I could hear the sobs of those who wanted so desperately to love him. I could see him abusing their desire for him, taking them into the depths of passion and then discarding them once the wave had subsided. They would need him, but he would never need them.
I could see all of this from my summit. A smile crested from my lips as tears streamed down my face. In this moment of reflection I could see it all, and it all could see me. The boy looked at me, and he smiled too. "I will endure all of this for you", he said. "I will suffer so that you may live. I will bear the brunt of all of this because I love you. Forgive them for they know not what they do."
I noticed the young man looking at me. "I will endure this all for you", he said. "I will suffer in spite of myself, and will see such pain in the eyes of those I love so that you will always remember me. I will bear the brunt of all that is because I have faith in you. Please forgive me, for I know not what I do."
I wanted so desperately to hug them and to tell them it would be alright. "Don't worry", I shouted, "time will change the world and you will be loved and you will love!" But they had vanished, gone with the moment as if like clouds on a breezy spring day. Yet I knew they knew, for I lived in them and they, in turn, lived in me. The hand that now caressed in love once shattered in anger. The lips that speak love's clear truth once spoke fear's distorted lies. The back that once bore the scars of a soul lost now supports the hugs of love and peace. The arms that once pushed away everything now embrace it all.
In my mind I see that boy and I thank him. He bore the worst of others to allow me to be. He suffered so that I may know now. He was not fragile or weak, he was my best teacher and my closest friend. I love him and he loves me, for the first time we love ourselves. Yes, little boy, I have forgiven them.
I see that man and I thank him. He created the worst of himself for others and lived with the worst in himself so that I may see. He knew such things so that I could experience what it is I am not. He took the punches and gave the beatings so that the scars could remind me of him. I see those scars each time I look in the mirror, and I smile. I love him, and I forgive him, for I could not be me without him.
So today I am at the summit, enjoying the view from the mountaintop. I had to climb to get here, and I now realize I am not done. My path heads in a direction I cannot yet see. That is not important, however, for right now I am here, and I am Love.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
I meditated this morning before dawn, lying in bed absorbing all that was around and in me. I felt light and completely content with where this moment had me...and then the next...and then the next. Each moment passed me by like clouds on a breezy spring day. I took them in and let them go. I loved each of them and missed them not as they faded into what was to allow what is.
It is in such joy that I can see the experience of my life that brought me to the summit of this Mountain of Bliss. At such heights, I can look around and survey all that was without needing to relive those moments. This spot allows you to reflect without becoming the reflection, feel without being the feeling, see without the attachment to and creating what you see as what you are.
From this vantage point, I could see the storm brewing. I could hear the screams, the smacks, the callous "I did this because I love you." I could hear a young boy crying for the pain to end. I could see a lonely, dejected soul just trying to fit in. I could see a mother beating her son into submission. I could hear the prayers for it all to end.
I could see an adolescent boy wondering if he could stop the storms that raged in his mind. I could feel his torment at the bruises and the welts forming on his body. I could sense the agony of isolation and unending feeling of contempt he felt others had for him. I could see him on his knees begging God to "let this cup pass from me" only to have His will be done. I could see the look in her eyes as she struck out with leather, hand, fist, or any other object that could get the job done.
I could see the violence invade his soul, shutting down the once loving and kind boy as he grew into a violent and angry man. I could see the damage left in his wake, the blood, the pain, the fear and the anger. The river of anger never ceased in this man's mind; it flowed freely and often flooded his body with contentment at having shared this pain with another in the most violent and angry of ways.
I could also see the tears form in the eyes of those this man loved. He needed control. He thirsted for power. He was afraid of it all. I could hear the sobs of those who wanted so desperately to love him. I could see him abusing their desire for him, taking them into the depths of passion and then discarding them once the wave had subsided. They would need him, but he would never need them.
I could see all of this from my summit. A smile crested from my lips as tears streamed down my face. In this moment of reflection I could see it all, and it all could see me. The boy looked at me, and he smiled too. "I will endure all of this for you", he said. "I will suffer so that you may live. I will bear the brunt of all of this because I love you. Forgive them for they know not what they do."
I noticed the young man looking at me. "I will endure this all for you", he said. "I will suffer in spite of myself, and will see such pain in the eyes of those I love so that you will always remember me. I will bear the brunt of all that is because I have faith in you. Please forgive me, for I know not what I do."
I wanted so desperately to hug them and to tell them it would be alright. "Don't worry", I shouted, "time will change the world and you will be loved and you will love!" But they had vanished, gone with the moment as if like clouds on a breezy spring day. Yet I knew they knew, for I lived in them and they, in turn, lived in me. The hand that now caressed in love once shattered in anger. The lips that speak love's clear truth once spoke fear's distorted lies. The back that once bore the scars of a soul lost now supports the hugs of love and peace. The arms that once pushed away everything now embrace it all.
In my mind I see that boy and I thank him. He bore the worst of others to allow me to be. He suffered so that I may know now. He was not fragile or weak, he was my best teacher and my closest friend. I love him and he loves me, for the first time we love ourselves. Yes, little boy, I have forgiven them.
I see that man and I thank him. He created the worst of himself for others and lived with the worst in himself so that I may see. He knew such things so that I could experience what it is I am not. He took the punches and gave the beatings so that the scars could remind me of him. I see those scars each time I look in the mirror, and I smile. I love him, and I forgive him, for I could not be me without him.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Monday, January 18, 2010
Am I my Brother's Keeper?
Alone we stand embroiled in the past; strangling our present into unconsciousness and heaving the beauty of now into the fire of the way things used to be. So sad the sacrifice of pleasure for the feigned fantasy of what was as it surely keeps us from recognizing that what we wanted then is here with us now. I beg your forgiveness as I search for some opening in your heart to the love I have in mine.
Do you care enough to find my love warm and embracing as it is or have the walls we have created become so thick and mighty that we cannot see through them or dare to climb their lofty heights? Do you shrink from my touch out of such dislike for it or have I created that wall as well? Do you wish for me to be somewhere else? Do you wish for me to vanish down the trail beyond all that your eyes can see? You have created me as I was, I have created me as I am, and is it so impossible to ask that you see me as I see me not as you would have me be?
I have created you as I see you, to that I have no doubt. I love what I see, however, and despite the endless calls of my soul to part ways from you I simply cannot find it in my heart to do so. My soul wants what appears best for you, my heart wants what it knows is best for me. Who am I to argue with either? Should I bend to the wind of my own creation or stand firm on the rock that I know? I will stay sanely on my perch by your side, always wondering whether the dawn brings the day you will leave, the day you will say "I love you no more."
At that moment I will shout to Heaven above "am I my brother's keeper?" to which the Wind will whisper in the most patient repose "yes, you are". So off I will let you fly to seek your love anew, and steadfastly I will stand in the Wind with my arms outstretched and my feet planted firmly on the Perch of What Is singing softly to my self "I will love you".
For now I will cling to what I have, what I know, and pray the voices stop before they make more sense than what is all around me.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Do you care enough to find my love warm and embracing as it is or have the walls we have created become so thick and mighty that we cannot see through them or dare to climb their lofty heights? Do you shrink from my touch out of such dislike for it or have I created that wall as well? Do you wish for me to be somewhere else? Do you wish for me to vanish down the trail beyond all that your eyes can see? You have created me as I was, I have created me as I am, and is it so impossible to ask that you see me as I see me not as you would have me be?
I have created you as I see you, to that I have no doubt. I love what I see, however, and despite the endless calls of my soul to part ways from you I simply cannot find it in my heart to do so. My soul wants what appears best for you, my heart wants what it knows is best for me. Who am I to argue with either? Should I bend to the wind of my own creation or stand firm on the rock that I know? I will stay sanely on my perch by your side, always wondering whether the dawn brings the day you will leave, the day you will say "I love you no more."
At that moment I will shout to Heaven above "am I my brother's keeper?" to which the Wind will whisper in the most patient repose "yes, you are". So off I will let you fly to seek your love anew, and steadfastly I will stand in the Wind with my arms outstretched and my feet planted firmly on the Perch of What Is singing softly to my self "I will love you".
For now I will cling to what I have, what I know, and pray the voices stop before they make more sense than what is all around me.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Thursday, January 14, 2010
A Message of Love
This is a message to you. I don't know you, I have never met you, but I certainly pray we meet at some place and time in the future. See, I love you, and have a need to know you.
You have judged your life to be tough, and at times you have judge it to be unlivable. You see nothing but disappointment in your life, you feel nothing but despair. You see joy through tears that have flooded your soul, you see happiness through the fires of agony found in your mind. There are times you wish to end it all, there are times you wish to lash out, there are times when you just don't see a purpose to it all.
You have been hurt. You have been left behind. You have seen what you think is the best of people; a best that simply seems to suggest that the worst is the best you can hope for. You have tried to escape in many ways, yet nothing can keep you from the suffering you face with each passing second. At times things seem to be getting better, but the voice of despair is never far away, whispering in your ear about how things truly are. Your experiences have turned love and happiness into the illusion, a far-fetched dream that others may have, but for some reason it is not meant for you.
That is the generalization of the you you know. I am not far off. I can show you the blisters on my feet from wearing the shoes you now wear. I can show you the scars on my soul from taking the beatings you now take. I can offer you the hand that once come out of the fire to grab me and keep me from falling prey to it. Yet I warn you that only you can open your eyes to see, and only you can grasp the hand offered to love you.
I have to meet you. You have to meet me. I am you in the future, you are me in the past. Our causes of torture may be different, but the effects are the same. The torturer is the same, the methods similar, the results to be determined. But I ask you a question I have asked myself time and time again, "To WHOM do you owe this moment?"
You can answer me if you wish. Do you owe this moment to those who have left you? Do you owe this moment to those who have hurt you? Do you owe this moment to the voice of despair that haunts you? Do you owe this moment to your self and the happiness that is within you at this very moment? Decide, my friend, for the next moment depends on what you create this one. You remain the Creator, the voice of light in a chorus of darkness; all created by you and all you love to hate. You have created all that you see now, and you have even created the blame on others you have used. You have created the attachment to one reality and created the veil that covers the other. You are the Creator my friend, you created the pain, you created the tools of torture, you created the torturer. You have created the imperfect from the perfect, the fear from love, the despair from experience. Take heart, since you have created this reality you can simply create another, this time in the full knowledge that it will be as you wish it to be. You will be aware this time, and you will focus on the higher vision you have for yourself and this existence.
Perhaps you will find that things now are what you wish to create. That is fine, I do not judge these things as bad or good but rather just creations that are. I can see suffering as the path to happiness in the full knowledge that it does not work that way in reverse. I can see it all as necessary if you know what you want and take full ownership for its creation. You own it, it is yours, and it is perfect.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
You have judged your life to be tough, and at times you have judge it to be unlivable. You see nothing but disappointment in your life, you feel nothing but despair. You see joy through tears that have flooded your soul, you see happiness through the fires of agony found in your mind. There are times you wish to end it all, there are times you wish to lash out, there are times when you just don't see a purpose to it all.
You have been hurt. You have been left behind. You have seen what you think is the best of people; a best that simply seems to suggest that the worst is the best you can hope for. You have tried to escape in many ways, yet nothing can keep you from the suffering you face with each passing second. At times things seem to be getting better, but the voice of despair is never far away, whispering in your ear about how things truly are. Your experiences have turned love and happiness into the illusion, a far-fetched dream that others may have, but for some reason it is not meant for you.
That is the generalization of the you you know. I am not far off. I can show you the blisters on my feet from wearing the shoes you now wear. I can show you the scars on my soul from taking the beatings you now take. I can offer you the hand that once come out of the fire to grab me and keep me from falling prey to it. Yet I warn you that only you can open your eyes to see, and only you can grasp the hand offered to love you.
I have to meet you. You have to meet me. I am you in the future, you are me in the past. Our causes of torture may be different, but the effects are the same. The torturer is the same, the methods similar, the results to be determined. But I ask you a question I have asked myself time and time again, "To WHOM do you owe this moment?"
You can answer me if you wish. Do you owe this moment to those who have left you? Do you owe this moment to those who have hurt you? Do you owe this moment to the voice of despair that haunts you? Do you owe this moment to your self and the happiness that is within you at this very moment? Decide, my friend, for the next moment depends on what you create this one. You remain the Creator, the voice of light in a chorus of darkness; all created by you and all you love to hate. You have created all that you see now, and you have even created the blame on others you have used. You have created the attachment to one reality and created the veil that covers the other. You are the Creator my friend, you created the pain, you created the tools of torture, you created the torturer. You have created the imperfect from the perfect, the fear from love, the despair from experience. Take heart, since you have created this reality you can simply create another, this time in the full knowledge that it will be as you wish it to be. You will be aware this time, and you will focus on the higher vision you have for yourself and this existence.
Perhaps you will find that things now are what you wish to create. That is fine, I do not judge these things as bad or good but rather just creations that are. I can see suffering as the path to happiness in the full knowledge that it does not work that way in reverse. I can see it all as necessary if you know what you want and take full ownership for its creation. You own it, it is yours, and it is perfect.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Confusion
Today I seem to be led down the path of "confusion". Over the last few weeks I have felt confused, and in my morning meditation I focused on the act of my confusion and what the effects of such confusion have been on my existence. As I laid still, the wrappings of confusion began to unravel, a process that continues with this writing. In fact, the process may actually be the cause I this writing.
As we walk down a long path, it seems quite normal to get disoriented from time to time. We look around us, and whichever thought our egos may give us at that moment we become fixated on. We assign the place where we are a judgment, and in that judgment create the place where we are at that moment. Perhaps that moment seems scary to us in ego, so the area around us becomes scary. Perhaps we judge it as beautiful, so the area becomes beauty. Perhaps we see it is hot or cold, wet or dry, dark or light. Whatever we see it as we create it to be, and as we create it to be it becomes.
To the mind that has seen a glimpse of Being the judgments created by our egos can be quite confusing. This seems to suggest that while we have a taste of Being on our palettes, we are still have an attachment to outcome. Ego may say "this place is miserable" while Being says "this place is perfect" and the resulting attachment to either creates confusion in us.
One of ego's jobs is to get you to "forget" Being (that part of you that is God). It has the benefit of the instilled education we get from our parents and our society; our culture and our faith. Ego is a gift of Creation; the resulting attachment to it is a gift of our environment. Therefore, for many of us ego has a vast head start on Being, a head start to which many do not get a chance to overcome in one lifetime. It is no small wonder that we get confused when Being finally begins to "catch up". We only know one way, have only lived one way, have only created in one way, and now a voice from within asks us to Be different.
We then taste that Being. We drink from its cup and we ask for more. Ego then does its job, and the cup becomes dirty, or the Source tainted, or the taste bitter. Yet, the cup is at is always was, allowing us to make of it whatever we choose, and allowing the taste to be of our own Creation. What is needed now is focus, the will to see the cup as it is, and to allow the voice of ego to be without the attachment to create for us what it instructs. Is the cup dirty? Is the Source tainted? Is the taste bitter? The answer doesn't really matter if we have no attachment to it.
The key to Knowing then, it would appear to these open eyes, is non-attachment to EVERYTHING. Then days become neither good nor bad, happy nor sad, full nor empty. Ego will continue its purpose. It will still whisper in your ear and pull the strings of your mind, but when you are not attached to its calls you need heed none of its demands. Ego will then become frustrated as it is on the days when you now feel "confused", although with your lack of attachment you will no longer own such confusion. You will be free...
Such is the call of Being in me now. I have heard it, and in such knowing will have the experience. I will be free.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
As we walk down a long path, it seems quite normal to get disoriented from time to time. We look around us, and whichever thought our egos may give us at that moment we become fixated on. We assign the place where we are a judgment, and in that judgment create the place where we are at that moment. Perhaps that moment seems scary to us in ego, so the area around us becomes scary. Perhaps we judge it as beautiful, so the area becomes beauty. Perhaps we see it is hot or cold, wet or dry, dark or light. Whatever we see it as we create it to be, and as we create it to be it becomes.
To the mind that has seen a glimpse of Being the judgments created by our egos can be quite confusing. This seems to suggest that while we have a taste of Being on our palettes, we are still have an attachment to outcome. Ego may say "this place is miserable" while Being says "this place is perfect" and the resulting attachment to either creates confusion in us.
One of ego's jobs is to get you to "forget" Being (that part of you that is God). It has the benefit of the instilled education we get from our parents and our society; our culture and our faith. Ego is a gift of Creation; the resulting attachment to it is a gift of our environment. Therefore, for many of us ego has a vast head start on Being, a head start to which many do not get a chance to overcome in one lifetime. It is no small wonder that we get confused when Being finally begins to "catch up". We only know one way, have only lived one way, have only created in one way, and now a voice from within asks us to Be different.
We then taste that Being. We drink from its cup and we ask for more. Ego then does its job, and the cup becomes dirty, or the Source tainted, or the taste bitter. Yet, the cup is at is always was, allowing us to make of it whatever we choose, and allowing the taste to be of our own Creation. What is needed now is focus, the will to see the cup as it is, and to allow the voice of ego to be without the attachment to create for us what it instructs. Is the cup dirty? Is the Source tainted? Is the taste bitter? The answer doesn't really matter if we have no attachment to it.
The key to Knowing then, it would appear to these open eyes, is non-attachment to EVERYTHING. Then days become neither good nor bad, happy nor sad, full nor empty. Ego will continue its purpose. It will still whisper in your ear and pull the strings of your mind, but when you are not attached to its calls you need heed none of its demands. Ego will then become frustrated as it is on the days when you now feel "confused", although with your lack of attachment you will no longer own such confusion. You will be free...
Such is the call of Being in me now. I have heard it, and in such knowing will have the experience. I will be free.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The last second
"You never know which second will be your last. That's why we should live each one as if it is the next to last."
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
"I am lost."
So read the message from someone I love. I had been there; hopeless, helpless, without meaning and unsure of each step. I could almost feel the suffering in those words as they stared at me on my computer screen. I could almost remember...
But such is the life lived not in self but in spite of self without realizing who the Creator is. Life is truly a process of creation, not of discovery. We create the ample bosom of suffering at the same time we decry its very existence. We struggle for answers to questions we create without changing the conditions we created along with them. We simply excuse the situations we created and expect them to change themselves. We pity ourselves in morbid fascination with what is not by pretending we are all we can be at any given moment.
I remember once, in a moment of lowness, wondering what would be the best way to end it all. I didn't believe that anyone would care. I stared at my fingers feeling sorry for them for being mine. I felt so much sorrow that what was the "me" I hated so much actually was "me" that I broke down. I searched in my soul for the answer, I search in my suffering for relief, and when none came I simply thought it best to continue in the suffering. I hated myself so much, I felt so much dislike for who I was that I wanted to continue suffering as punishment. I was not afraid to die, I simply wanted to suffer more than I wished to end it all.
I realize now that I was not "lost". I was exactly where I needed to be. Even if I had taken my own life I would have been exactly where I needed to be. We all learn the lessons for which we are ready. Yet, in my dismal place I pressed forward because I needed to know "more". I was not done with my lesson.
I reach out to my loved one and simply say: "To whom do you owe this moment?" You are not discovering that you are "lost" at this moment, you are creating both the feeling of emptiness and the feeling of not knowing where you are. You may blame others. You may blame things beyond your control. My reply is the same no matter who you blame:
"You are not lost, you are exactly where you need to be. Lose the attachment to where you think you should be and you begin the process of creation anew."
It took me a long, long time to know those words and thereby experience the results. It took some "things" along the way to get me here. I can say with equal confidence that we not only are where we need to be, but we all are given the messages we need to get to there. Just be open to the possibilities. Learn that Higher Vision you have for yourself and create it in the world around you. Be the change you wish to see and you will see the change. I wish you well, and bid you blessings on your journey.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
But such is the life lived not in self but in spite of self without realizing who the Creator is. Life is truly a process of creation, not of discovery. We create the ample bosom of suffering at the same time we decry its very existence. We struggle for answers to questions we create without changing the conditions we created along with them. We simply excuse the situations we created and expect them to change themselves. We pity ourselves in morbid fascination with what is not by pretending we are all we can be at any given moment.
I remember once, in a moment of lowness, wondering what would be the best way to end it all. I didn't believe that anyone would care. I stared at my fingers feeling sorry for them for being mine. I felt so much sorrow that what was the "me" I hated so much actually was "me" that I broke down. I searched in my soul for the answer, I search in my suffering for relief, and when none came I simply thought it best to continue in the suffering. I hated myself so much, I felt so much dislike for who I was that I wanted to continue suffering as punishment. I was not afraid to die, I simply wanted to suffer more than I wished to end it all.
I realize now that I was not "lost". I was exactly where I needed to be. Even if I had taken my own life I would have been exactly where I needed to be. We all learn the lessons for which we are ready. Yet, in my dismal place I pressed forward because I needed to know "more". I was not done with my lesson.
I reach out to my loved one and simply say: "To whom do you owe this moment?" You are not discovering that you are "lost" at this moment, you are creating both the feeling of emptiness and the feeling of not knowing where you are. You may blame others. You may blame things beyond your control. My reply is the same no matter who you blame:
"You are not lost, you are exactly where you need to be. Lose the attachment to where you think you should be and you begin the process of creation anew."
It took me a long, long time to know those words and thereby experience the results. It took some "things" along the way to get me here. I can say with equal confidence that we not only are where we need to be, but we all are given the messages we need to get to there. Just be open to the possibilities. Learn that Higher Vision you have for yourself and create it in the world around you. Be the change you wish to see and you will see the change. I wish you well, and bid you blessings on your journey.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
I, the Creator
Today I created. I created the value I placed on the dream I had last night. I created the way I felt when I woke up as "great". I created my desires for the day ("I must train", I must have a good day of work", "I must eat well"). I created the measures of success or failures in reaching those desires, and in the process created success or failure. I created a perspective that water was "too hot" this morning in the shower, and in the process created what was hot. I stubbed my toe on the door into my bedroom and created pain, and then the judgment that pain was bad.
In essence, I am the Creator. As I gazed upon my wife this morning, I thought "there is the most beautiful woman ever created." Then, with my head half-cocked at my seemingly benign words, it dawned on me that my wife was not created beautiful, she was just created until I created her as beautiful. I saw the sunrise as as I hiked my normal trail through the residential maze of homes I have created as "my neighborhood" and said to myself, "...what a beautiful miracle this is." I half chuckled as I realized that it was not created a miracle at all except by me in what I wish it to be.
I learned of the death of a loved one once and thought "how sad". In the indomitable spirit of conversation I have with self, I then asked "is it really?" What gives us the ability to judge the death of anyone as sad? In my experience, death is only sad for those still in this existence (what we erroneously sometimes call "the living"), so who exactly was I sad for? During that pain I subjected myself to, through the tears and wails of sadness that echoed in my mind and out into the world, I came to realize something. This death is NOT sad. I am sad not because of the death itself, but because of the ATTACHMENT to that I thought of as "him". "He" is gone forever as I knew him, and that attachment drove me to such pains as to effect all around me. At that moment, the moment I let go of the attachment (which seems to me to be what the 5 stages of grief are...the process of "letting go" of the attachment) I was then able to feel the joy "his" soul must have felt in its passing.
I had not only created "him", I created my attachment to "him", I created my suffering in not having "him", and I created the conditions by which joy could allow itself to be in letting go of the attachment. I created joy. I am the Creator.
We all put ourselves in situations whether past, present, or future, where we create our universe. Whether we want to or not, every situation we find ourselves in is of our own doing, and we create the situation and the condition by which we exist in that situation. In those moments, we are faced with a choice: do I recognize myself as the creator of this moment and therefore created it in my own image or do I unconsciously allow my ego to create it for me so that I have someone else to blame? Ownership of such responsibility is a daunting thing, one many are nor ready to take, but man the beauty one can find in exercising their right to create!!
Of course I created that too...
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
In essence, I am the Creator. As I gazed upon my wife this morning, I thought "there is the most beautiful woman ever created." Then, with my head half-cocked at my seemingly benign words, it dawned on me that my wife was not created beautiful, she was just created until I created her as beautiful. I saw the sunrise as as I hiked my normal trail through the residential maze of homes I have created as "my neighborhood" and said to myself, "...what a beautiful miracle this is." I half chuckled as I realized that it was not created a miracle at all except by me in what I wish it to be.
I learned of the death of a loved one once and thought "how sad". In the indomitable spirit of conversation I have with self, I then asked "is it really?" What gives us the ability to judge the death of anyone as sad? In my experience, death is only sad for those still in this existence (what we erroneously sometimes call "the living"), so who exactly was I sad for? During that pain I subjected myself to, through the tears and wails of sadness that echoed in my mind and out into the world, I came to realize something. This death is NOT sad. I am sad not because of the death itself, but because of the ATTACHMENT to that I thought of as "him". "He" is gone forever as I knew him, and that attachment drove me to such pains as to effect all around me. At that moment, the moment I let go of the attachment (which seems to me to be what the 5 stages of grief are...the process of "letting go" of the attachment) I was then able to feel the joy "his" soul must have felt in its passing.
I had not only created "him", I created my attachment to "him", I created my suffering in not having "him", and I created the conditions by which joy could allow itself to be in letting go of the attachment. I created joy. I am the Creator.
We all put ourselves in situations whether past, present, or future, where we create our universe. Whether we want to or not, every situation we find ourselves in is of our own doing, and we create the situation and the condition by which we exist in that situation. In those moments, we are faced with a choice: do I recognize myself as the creator of this moment and therefore created it in my own image or do I unconsciously allow my ego to create it for me so that I have someone else to blame? Ownership of such responsibility is a daunting thing, one many are nor ready to take, but man the beauty one can find in exercising their right to create!!
Of course I created that too...
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Monday, January 11, 2010
A Moment of Nirvana
I felt time slip away as if nothing else had ever been. Long had this life owned me, the prevailing thought that pain was essential if for nothing else than the feeling that life itself existed. I had been beaten and prodded into such knowledge, the stinging hand and utensil of those who were assigned to teach me things like "love" and "life" crashed down on my body and mind like raindrops in a summer storm. They had been my teachers, they had been my mentors, they had been my Hell.
I remember when there were times I searched for the bravado to end my life. The anger and pain welled in me like a violent storm and manifested itself in such horror that I today stand a testament to extremes. I felt so alone as to know no one, and felt banished to a life of awkward desire in a moment mine to share alone. I could not feel close to anyone, I could feel their disappointment in me even before they could feel it. I knew that they hated me even before they did. I knew my life was over even before I closed my eyes for the final time.
There are many such moments of anguish that I can point to in my young life. I can attest to the bruises my parents either caused or allowed to be caused in the name of such love. I would long remember the words "I do this because I love you" as the pain rained down on me. I wondered if the belt loved me too, or the pot, or the stick, or the switch. I wondered in the deepest parts of me whether the love would ever stop, and toyed with ways to see it end. I lived homeless for a time to escape my tormentors. I lived beneath it all in order to not be beneath it all.
Such stories may remain for another time when they matter. Believe it or not, this story is not so much about the pain as it is the rise from it. It is about the perspective such experiences provided. It was about the knowledge born from such torment to know certain bliss. In a world of relatives I would be a testament to each side, failure and success, torment to freedom, fear to love. Perhaps, as I realize this very moment, I am the gift I give to the world. It is an understanding that has taken over 42 years for me to realize.
Autumn did come to this weary life. The first moment I felt time slip away from me was when my first daughter was born. That moment was fleeting yet frozen in time, a paradox unlike the feeling I had while in that moment. Such love had never crested from my heart before, such warmth had never touched my soul, such beauty never had my eyes beholden. I was lucky, I was able to experience that feeling again, the second time when I met my second wife, the third when my second daughter was born, and the fourth when my son was born. Those brief but everlasting moments of pure bliss, what I call "my touch with Nirvana" gave me an insight into a world I never thought existed. Yet, because of the pain I had known on so many levels, that insight would drive me into wanting to know and experience those moments of Nirvana over and over again and at will. Such is my journey at this moment.
When my first daughter was born, I cannot describe that feeling even as I remember it this moment. Indescribable is the only word to use. That feeling ended my first marriage to a rather obnoxious woman who was nearly me in female form. She hadn't known my pain, but she knew my toughness from it. I married her out of trust and a mutual admiration, but we shared little in our true natures as time would bear. Our paths began to part at that moment; a moment when I realized Bliss for the very first time, and a moment when she would laugh at me for the description. I see the birth of my first daughter as my rebirth, it allowed me a new perspective of healing and love that allowed such growth to continue to this day. As I relate it now, it was the golden outer skin of my onion beginning to peel away.
When the woman who would now be my wife met me, I was a mess even as I believed I was in control. I still feared love, despite the 7 years that had passed since my first moment of Nirvana probably more than I feared that pain of fear itself. Today, the idea of "fearing love" seems outlandish to me, but I lived such fear! The first time I saw my wife I felt something, but since she is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on I gave up that moment to Aphrodite rather that to Cupid. Still, it took me months to get a date with her, and when I did I "knew I was in trouble". Gone were the promises of bachelorhood forever. Gone were the whimsical understanding of solitude when it suited me. Gone were my impressions of love and the fortress I had built to protect myself from it.
What I had built was a "fortress of solitude". So, while she saw walls built of the toughest stone, it was only I who had created that illusion. Those walls that kept her at bay were nothing more than fragile glass, easy to shatter but impossible to climb. Climb hard as she might, there was no getting to me in that way. No, I had created my own glass menagerie that contained those fierce animals that were me as a matter of survival, created to inflict pain before it was inflicted on me, to lie before I was lied to, to test before I was tested. It was not until she shared in my pain that her cries would shatter the illusion and allow me to hear the call of Love. The real understanding began not when those walls came crashing down, but rather when I forced the tools of demolition on her. She accepted them, took ownership of them, and used them as often as necessary to allow the light to be. She became my conduit for it all - the "good", the "bad", and the painful. Why she chose to bear the burden of such a cause I will never figure out, but such is the angel that picked me up, dusted me off, and healed me until this time came to be. The animals still exist, but they do not define my moments or own my actions. Rather, they serve as reminders to what was and what could be again.
We all need our angels, and mine came in the form of a 5'8" beauty with a heart of gold and a soul as pure as any I had ever met. She gave me two more gifts, a daughter and a son. Ah, those moments of pure bliss that come with the birth of your child! And in the time that stretched between then and now there have been similar moments; the first steps, the first words, the first time they look at you as if you are something to them, the first moments when they act like they understand themselves. The creation never ends, it abounds in every moment of every day for every soul. You begin to see that no one moment is more special than the other, they are all equally special in the creation of them. Such are the numerous moments of Nirvana born of the first.
Forgiveness of my parents came for me not as some painstaking process, but rather as the realization that I owed them something for the beauty they showed in the Hell they created for me. Slowly, I began to forgive myself for the pain I had caused others, for the brutal violence, for the lust, for the unabated energy I devoted to the quest of ego. Now, I see forgiveness as an automatic mechanism of love, it happens without request and without effort therefore is no longer "forgiveness" as I once knew it. I see that there is no "good" or "bad" in the world as a result of my being able to experience Divine intention. I turn my focus from fear to focus of love, and the results are that the world has a lot more color and warmth to it. I can relate to those in distress and those causing it. I can see the Divine perfection in all things, and in that they are all equal. Forgiveness does not exist, nor do miracles. I am here, I am now, and I am perfect in this, my moment of Nirvana.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
I remember when there were times I searched for the bravado to end my life. The anger and pain welled in me like a violent storm and manifested itself in such horror that I today stand a testament to extremes. I felt so alone as to know no one, and felt banished to a life of awkward desire in a moment mine to share alone. I could not feel close to anyone, I could feel their disappointment in me even before they could feel it. I knew that they hated me even before they did. I knew my life was over even before I closed my eyes for the final time.
There are many such moments of anguish that I can point to in my young life. I can attest to the bruises my parents either caused or allowed to be caused in the name of such love. I would long remember the words "I do this because I love you" as the pain rained down on me. I wondered if the belt loved me too, or the pot, or the stick, or the switch. I wondered in the deepest parts of me whether the love would ever stop, and toyed with ways to see it end. I lived homeless for a time to escape my tormentors. I lived beneath it all in order to not be beneath it all.
Such stories may remain for another time when they matter. Believe it or not, this story is not so much about the pain as it is the rise from it. It is about the perspective such experiences provided. It was about the knowledge born from such torment to know certain bliss. In a world of relatives I would be a testament to each side, failure and success, torment to freedom, fear to love. Perhaps, as I realize this very moment, I am the gift I give to the world. It is an understanding that has taken over 42 years for me to realize.
Autumn did come to this weary life. The first moment I felt time slip away from me was when my first daughter was born. That moment was fleeting yet frozen in time, a paradox unlike the feeling I had while in that moment. Such love had never crested from my heart before, such warmth had never touched my soul, such beauty never had my eyes beholden. I was lucky, I was able to experience that feeling again, the second time when I met my second wife, the third when my second daughter was born, and the fourth when my son was born. Those brief but everlasting moments of pure bliss, what I call "my touch with Nirvana" gave me an insight into a world I never thought existed. Yet, because of the pain I had known on so many levels, that insight would drive me into wanting to know and experience those moments of Nirvana over and over again and at will. Such is my journey at this moment.
When my first daughter was born, I cannot describe that feeling even as I remember it this moment. Indescribable is the only word to use. That feeling ended my first marriage to a rather obnoxious woman who was nearly me in female form. She hadn't known my pain, but she knew my toughness from it. I married her out of trust and a mutual admiration, but we shared little in our true natures as time would bear. Our paths began to part at that moment; a moment when I realized Bliss for the very first time, and a moment when she would laugh at me for the description. I see the birth of my first daughter as my rebirth, it allowed me a new perspective of healing and love that allowed such growth to continue to this day. As I relate it now, it was the golden outer skin of my onion beginning to peel away.
When the woman who would now be my wife met me, I was a mess even as I believed I was in control. I still feared love, despite the 7 years that had passed since my first moment of Nirvana probably more than I feared that pain of fear itself. Today, the idea of "fearing love" seems outlandish to me, but I lived such fear! The first time I saw my wife I felt something, but since she is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on I gave up that moment to Aphrodite rather that to Cupid. Still, it took me months to get a date with her, and when I did I "knew I was in trouble". Gone were the promises of bachelorhood forever. Gone were the whimsical understanding of solitude when it suited me. Gone were my impressions of love and the fortress I had built to protect myself from it.
What I had built was a "fortress of solitude". So, while she saw walls built of the toughest stone, it was only I who had created that illusion. Those walls that kept her at bay were nothing more than fragile glass, easy to shatter but impossible to climb. Climb hard as she might, there was no getting to me in that way. No, I had created my own glass menagerie that contained those fierce animals that were me as a matter of survival, created to inflict pain before it was inflicted on me, to lie before I was lied to, to test before I was tested. It was not until she shared in my pain that her cries would shatter the illusion and allow me to hear the call of Love. The real understanding began not when those walls came crashing down, but rather when I forced the tools of demolition on her. She accepted them, took ownership of them, and used them as often as necessary to allow the light to be. She became my conduit for it all - the "good", the "bad", and the painful. Why she chose to bear the burden of such a cause I will never figure out, but such is the angel that picked me up, dusted me off, and healed me until this time came to be. The animals still exist, but they do not define my moments or own my actions. Rather, they serve as reminders to what was and what could be again.
We all need our angels, and mine came in the form of a 5'8" beauty with a heart of gold and a soul as pure as any I had ever met. She gave me two more gifts, a daughter and a son. Ah, those moments of pure bliss that come with the birth of your child! And in the time that stretched between then and now there have been similar moments; the first steps, the first words, the first time they look at you as if you are something to them, the first moments when they act like they understand themselves. The creation never ends, it abounds in every moment of every day for every soul. You begin to see that no one moment is more special than the other, they are all equally special in the creation of them. Such are the numerous moments of Nirvana born of the first.
Forgiveness of my parents came for me not as some painstaking process, but rather as the realization that I owed them something for the beauty they showed in the Hell they created for me. Slowly, I began to forgive myself for the pain I had caused others, for the brutal violence, for the lust, for the unabated energy I devoted to the quest of ego. Now, I see forgiveness as an automatic mechanism of love, it happens without request and without effort therefore is no longer "forgiveness" as I once knew it. I see that there is no "good" or "bad" in the world as a result of my being able to experience Divine intention. I turn my focus from fear to focus of love, and the results are that the world has a lot more color and warmth to it. I can relate to those in distress and those causing it. I can see the Divine perfection in all things, and in that they are all equal. Forgiveness does not exist, nor do miracles. I am here, I am now, and I am perfect in this, my moment of Nirvana.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Purpose of Ego
I read some very interesting articles on this forum about ego and what it is, its necessity, and what appears to be its purpose. I was first exposed to the metaphysical understanding of ego through the teachings of Dr. Wayne Dyer, and his explanation of ego certainly aroused my curiosity. It began a very intense and trying investigation into my own ego through the eyes of my own experience.
So, the conversation on here made me want to share my perspective gained through the experience of me. Not my experience, but rather the experience of me as seen through the eyes of the Observer. Forgive me if you can, but this experience is far from over so my description may change as surely as the seasons come and go. So please, allow this foray to be a matter of this moment and not the next. This particular post will deal with what I see as the purpose of ego as a matter of spiritual experience. It may also be long, but since few of you know a thing about "me", I figured some background may be in order to get to the very simple understanding of ego's purpose.
Perhaps it only fair to say that I find the experience of Neale Donald Walsch to be similar to my own. When I read his CwG books, they spoke to me as if I wrote them myself. Not everything to detail, but the gist of the books spoke to me much more deeply than anything I had ever read. While the books did not create my perspective, they certainly helped confirm something I had heard in me my entire life. They caused me to expand my experience of these "memories" to the point I am today and they caused me to listen to the voice that has always been with me. Why is that important you may ask? Well...
It is my experience that I am a spiritual being having a human experience (well duh, isn't it everyone's?). It also seems "right" to me that the purpose of my human experience is that my spirit may know what it is through the experience of what it is not. The Pure Love that is my soul simply did not exist as Pure Love until what Pure Love is not was created. Now, you may call that a "dream", or an "illusion", but whatever it was it first had to be what it was not. Throughout my ongoing practice of discovery, I see my existence (my body, mind and soul) as clearly defined in that triad. My soul experiences itself through my body by creating all that is with my mind so that it can experience Itself. The Father knows Itself through the Son by creations of the Holy Spirit.
So, it would appear that the soul, being perfect and pure in its state of bliss, needed its opposite in order to experience what the mind created for Its benefit. What has no form (soul or spirit) took form (body), what was perfect (spirit) created its imperfect version (ego) for experience. The amazing part of this understanding is that as my perspective changed from the ego instilled in me since birth to the soul that I forgot at conception I began to see the ego work not only in myself, but in those around me. Egoic energy becomes so easy to see in these moments of perfect awareness, and it all becomes clearer and clearer as the dust of this reality settles in stillness.
The first thing that was necessary in this understanding was a lack of judgment of the ego. When in a state of awareness, one can see any judgment as coming only from ego. When I am in these states of "soul awareness", I simply cannot judge ANY THING...it is really amazing. I see ego working in me and it simply "is". I see it work in others and it simply "is". Not good, not bad, just perfect as it "is". Some may be more egoic than others, but the measurement is really meaningless as we all enjoy this moment of perfect existence in a universe created for such enjoyment.
In this reality, I have discovered that ego is perfect and necessary. Just as a window cannot exist without a wall, or that the stars cannot exist without the space that allows them to be, I know that ego cannot exist without the soul. Yet, just as a wall becomes defined by a window, or as space is defined by the stars, or as silence that is defined by sound, I know that my soul in this physical universe is defined by the ego. That, my friends, is what I find the purpose of ego to be.
Ego is simply the proof that my soul exists and vice-versa in the physical realm. Ego is simply the yin that exists so that my soul as yang can be. Ego is the sound to my soul the silence. One exists so the other may be, and in that the entire thing we call a "dream" or an "illusion" is shear and complete perfection. What we call "love" exists only because the dream exists, for when we are awakened from the dream in complete perfection love will cease to exist because that which defines it (fear) will cease to exist. It is ALL part of the dream: love, hate, strength, weakness, peace, war, birth, death, beginning, end, yin, yang...all equal parts of the dream as my soul experiences itself through what it is not. An experience only possible by one part of me: my ego.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
So, the conversation on here made me want to share my perspective gained through the experience of me. Not my experience, but rather the experience of me as seen through the eyes of the Observer. Forgive me if you can, but this experience is far from over so my description may change as surely as the seasons come and go. So please, allow this foray to be a matter of this moment and not the next. This particular post will deal with what I see as the purpose of ego as a matter of spiritual experience. It may also be long, but since few of you know a thing about "me", I figured some background may be in order to get to the very simple understanding of ego's purpose.
Perhaps it only fair to say that I find the experience of Neale Donald Walsch to be similar to my own. When I read his CwG books, they spoke to me as if I wrote them myself. Not everything to detail, but the gist of the books spoke to me much more deeply than anything I had ever read. While the books did not create my perspective, they certainly helped confirm something I had heard in me my entire life. They caused me to expand my experience of these "memories" to the point I am today and they caused me to listen to the voice that has always been with me. Why is that important you may ask? Well...
It is my experience that I am a spiritual being having a human experience (well duh, isn't it everyone's?). It also seems "right" to me that the purpose of my human experience is that my spirit may know what it is through the experience of what it is not. The Pure Love that is my soul simply did not exist as Pure Love until what Pure Love is not was created. Now, you may call that a "dream", or an "illusion", but whatever it was it first had to be what it was not. Throughout my ongoing practice of discovery, I see my existence (my body, mind and soul) as clearly defined in that triad. My soul experiences itself through my body by creating all that is with my mind so that it can experience Itself. The Father knows Itself through the Son by creations of the Holy Spirit.
So, it would appear that the soul, being perfect and pure in its state of bliss, needed its opposite in order to experience what the mind created for Its benefit. What has no form (soul or spirit) took form (body), what was perfect (spirit) created its imperfect version (ego) for experience. The amazing part of this understanding is that as my perspective changed from the ego instilled in me since birth to the soul that I forgot at conception I began to see the ego work not only in myself, but in those around me. Egoic energy becomes so easy to see in these moments of perfect awareness, and it all becomes clearer and clearer as the dust of this reality settles in stillness.
The first thing that was necessary in this understanding was a lack of judgment of the ego. When in a state of awareness, one can see any judgment as coming only from ego. When I am in these states of "soul awareness", I simply cannot judge ANY THING...it is really amazing. I see ego working in me and it simply "is". I see it work in others and it simply "is". Not good, not bad, just perfect as it "is". Some may be more egoic than others, but the measurement is really meaningless as we all enjoy this moment of perfect existence in a universe created for such enjoyment.
In this reality, I have discovered that ego is perfect and necessary. Just as a window cannot exist without a wall, or that the stars cannot exist without the space that allows them to be, I know that ego cannot exist without the soul. Yet, just as a wall becomes defined by a window, or as space is defined by the stars, or as silence that is defined by sound, I know that my soul in this physical universe is defined by the ego. That, my friends, is what I find the purpose of ego to be.
Ego is simply the proof that my soul exists and vice-versa in the physical realm. Ego is simply the yin that exists so that my soul as yang can be. Ego is the sound to my soul the silence. One exists so the other may be, and in that the entire thing we call a "dream" or an "illusion" is shear and complete perfection. What we call "love" exists only because the dream exists, for when we are awakened from the dream in complete perfection love will cease to exist because that which defines it (fear) will cease to exist. It is ALL part of the dream: love, hate, strength, weakness, peace, war, birth, death, beginning, end, yin, yang...all equal parts of the dream as my soul experiences itself through what it is not. An experience only possible by one part of me: my ego.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Question:
If you can find worth in being worthless, and meaning in being meaningless, are either words true?
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Today, A Challenge Arises
Today is not special simply in that a challenge has arisen within me. That is part of the necessary experience that my soul must have here, and everyday occurrence that happens hundreds, if not thousands, of times a day at all levels of my existence. Most challenges go unnoticed; a cell divides correctly, an organ functions as it should, the immune system keeps me in balance. Such mundane miracles of the body usually go unnoticed as if they are not even happening, as if the miracle of creation never happened and is not continuing even as I create this prose. It is simply, nonexistent because we have made it so.
In this, I find my challenge today. Recently I have felt an awakening, a movement of spirit to the center of my life. In this effort (or lack of effort), I have felt love as never before. It has permeated all aspects of my life, and the world has appeared brighter and more sublime than ever before. I have felt a "avalanche" of love, pure and simple as it is, to which there was no challenge. Nothing could end the mood, nothing could end the connection, nothing could end the process - until today.
I still have the feeling, but it is tempered with a bit of anger. I am not sure where this anger came from today. I didn't sleep well, but that is fairly normal for me. The first four hours of the night I sleep like a log, the second 4, well, its more like I sleep on a log. I don't know that a lack of sleep is the issue here. Upon getting out of bed I just did not feel right. I meditated before I got out of bed and I just didn't feel the warmth and energy I had over the recent past. In the shower, I did not feel the connection to everything around me. The water did not feel particularly warm. I could not feel the purpose of each water droplet, of the embrace of the chill as I left the shower, or the comfort of the towel as I dried myself off.
Something is missing. So far this morning has been "blah". It seems darker, and although the skies are gray it is hard to see the vibrant color I had just yesterday. I can't find a reason or a cause it just is. I think, I search, but still can't find a reason for the loss of clarity that possessed me just a few short hours ago. Perhaps all I can do is not search for the cause of losing that clarity, but focus on the cause of having it in the first place.
The challenge that has arisen today is not about anger or fear, love or hatred, it appears to me at this moment to be about focus. Which part of me is truth? Which is the essence of the "me" I wish to create in this world? What exactly is my purpose beyond this post and beyond this breath? Why, today, am I focused on the darkness and not the light?
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
In this, I find my challenge today. Recently I have felt an awakening, a movement of spirit to the center of my life. In this effort (or lack of effort), I have felt love as never before. It has permeated all aspects of my life, and the world has appeared brighter and more sublime than ever before. I have felt a "avalanche" of love, pure and simple as it is, to which there was no challenge. Nothing could end the mood, nothing could end the connection, nothing could end the process - until today.
I still have the feeling, but it is tempered with a bit of anger. I am not sure where this anger came from today. I didn't sleep well, but that is fairly normal for me. The first four hours of the night I sleep like a log, the second 4, well, its more like I sleep on a log. I don't know that a lack of sleep is the issue here. Upon getting out of bed I just did not feel right. I meditated before I got out of bed and I just didn't feel the warmth and energy I had over the recent past. In the shower, I did not feel the connection to everything around me. The water did not feel particularly warm. I could not feel the purpose of each water droplet, of the embrace of the chill as I left the shower, or the comfort of the towel as I dried myself off.
Something is missing. So far this morning has been "blah". It seems darker, and although the skies are gray it is hard to see the vibrant color I had just yesterday. I can't find a reason or a cause it just is. I think, I search, but still can't find a reason for the loss of clarity that possessed me just a few short hours ago. Perhaps all I can do is not search for the cause of losing that clarity, but focus on the cause of having it in the first place.
The challenge that has arisen today is not about anger or fear, love or hatred, it appears to me at this moment to be about focus. Which part of me is truth? Which is the essence of the "me" I wish to create in this world? What exactly is my purpose beyond this post and beyond this breath? Why, today, am I focused on the darkness and not the light?
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Do I deserve this thing called love?
From the deepest regions of my soul I can feel it. Yet, even as I enjoy the bliss of this experience my mind continues on with its mantra, "do you deserve this thing called 'love'"? That voice was given strength by me but created by the ample efforts of those who molded that thing I was. It echoes through the vastness of the void left by your departure, yet billows outward with the knowing that it shall all soon be over.
You are still with me not in soul but in body. I take pleasure in what your body can give me without the ecstasy of what your soul could share. This is only half a triumph for a man so needy of both yet so starving for one. Such hunger causes him such despair that he devours the body as if it could satisfy his need for the soul. The flames in which I walk singe my feet with unabated agony, the searing heat of hell evaporating the tears before they can even form in my eyes. They beat me into this, they hammered me into a shell of a boy and less of a man. The vision of my self standing before the mirror of what has been this life to date sickens me as I stare at the naked, bleeding man looking back at me. I am so helpless, I am so childlike, I have grown but some small amount in the time I have been here.
Yet I thank them this day. Without their torture and anger I could not know such peace and love as it is and as I wish it to be. Without your tears and cries of pain I could not see it as that which I wish to end. Without the storm I could not see the beauty of the sun. Without your love my eyes would still be clouded with that which I knew as right, but felt was wrong. What little growth there has been is still growth, and I thank them for planting the seed that not only spawned the knurled sapling but also the growing tree. The roots of this tree have known such infertile ground as to root deeply in the good soil while still looking upwards to heaven in loving purpose.
So, as my mind rings out the words of fear, "do you deserve this thing called love?", my soul knows itself and my heart listens no more. I bask in the warm glow of the sun as the storm has moved on. While I can hear the distant roll of thunder that once deafened my ears, I am not afraid of it. I no longer see the world as my torturer but as my self, I no longer seek to instill fear but to hold love so dear as to know fear no longer. This Being, this part of the me you wished to know once upon a time now beckons for your hand, your love, your soul. I beg you hear and grasp that part of me I now know to be the only part of me that is truth.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
You are still with me not in soul but in body. I take pleasure in what your body can give me without the ecstasy of what your soul could share. This is only half a triumph for a man so needy of both yet so starving for one. Such hunger causes him such despair that he devours the body as if it could satisfy his need for the soul. The flames in which I walk singe my feet with unabated agony, the searing heat of hell evaporating the tears before they can even form in my eyes. They beat me into this, they hammered me into a shell of a boy and less of a man. The vision of my self standing before the mirror of what has been this life to date sickens me as I stare at the naked, bleeding man looking back at me. I am so helpless, I am so childlike, I have grown but some small amount in the time I have been here.
Yet I thank them this day. Without their torture and anger I could not know such peace and love as it is and as I wish it to be. Without your tears and cries of pain I could not see it as that which I wish to end. Without the storm I could not see the beauty of the sun. Without your love my eyes would still be clouded with that which I knew as right, but felt was wrong. What little growth there has been is still growth, and I thank them for planting the seed that not only spawned the knurled sapling but also the growing tree. The roots of this tree have known such infertile ground as to root deeply in the good soil while still looking upwards to heaven in loving purpose.
So, as my mind rings out the words of fear, "do you deserve this thing called love?", my soul knows itself and my heart listens no more. I bask in the warm glow of the sun as the storm has moved on. While I can hear the distant roll of thunder that once deafened my ears, I am not afraid of it. I no longer see the world as my torturer but as my self, I no longer seek to instill fear but to hold love so dear as to know fear no longer. This Being, this part of the me you wished to know once upon a time now beckons for your hand, your love, your soul. I beg you hear and grasp that part of me I now know to be the only part of me that is truth.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
A thought of Love
Love is like an artful masterpiece woven by its Creator into a beautiful tapestry. To seek such a beauty in the arms of another is to overlook the beauty that you your self possess. To be love without a need to have the loving expression of others is to know that only you can be its Creator. Be the artist and allow the world to be your canvas.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Monday, January 4, 2010
The Trip Through the Fire
The light from the fire licked slowly on her face, dancing brightly off her eyes and exposing the fragile stillness of her gaze. I looked slowly at her, cautiously as if the very sight of her could be a danger from which there would be no return. I wanted so desperately to have it end in a way that would soothe us both, in a way that could have us both dancing about this fire in pure ecstasy, in pure love.
Such a hope would prove impossible on this night. Her bliss could not be found in my desires, nor mine in hers. One of us would certainly be dancing on this night but at the expense of the joy the other simply could not find. While we had packed lightly for this trip, we carried with us unseen baggage that had accumulated over the years. Even as she vehemently protested that she was not a "hoarder" and that she resented clutter, she certainly hoarded a resentment toward me unlimited by space and undiminished by time. I had done my part in this tragedy as I piled on the pain as one would pile on the charm and in equal delight. I had provided her the cause as she hoarded the effect, and we proved an ample tandem in both pain and pleasure although we shared certainly more in the former than the latter. Such potential wasted by the ignorance of fear and the hoarding of anger had rarely been seen by either, but so stuck on ensuring the grip of both would not resolve we they both to their own demise.
And so it was. Laying around the campfire surrounded by Nature in her glory provided the contrast to the folly of man. As she looked up at me there was a hint of sadness in her beauty compounded by the glistening of teardrops faintly finding their way into her eyes. It became eerily silent at the moment she spoke as if all of the world had paused to hear her voice, as if the universe had ended its purpose but to witness the charm of this woman.
"I just can't do it anymore. I love you but the pain is too great for me to get over." The universe could clearly see, as I could, the trail of tears pouring from her soul. To me, in this reality to which I was steeling myself to survive, these were not tears of sadness as much as they were tears of relief. She had finally found the end to the nightmare and turned the corner to the healing she so richly deserved. My absence would be the healing and this time would be the method by which a beautiful person such as she would end the torture of hoarding that which she had no interest in keeping.
I would be gone.
Such began my trip through the fire, the part of me that suffered in order to burn away fear to find love. This was no ordinary occurrence, it signaled the end of torture for me as well. No more clinging to the final branch of the past "me" that shot out from the sheer cliff of the present moment. So, in her tears I saw relief for her while I felt relief for me. This would be the moment that I would begin suffering anew while finally being able to take comfort in the knowledge that I suffer for the one I love...the Truth...the Way. As her words explaining her position teased the trees that surrounded us, my ears had move on toward the time when I could hear her laugh in delight or moan in ecstasy. My eyes did not see the visage of her sadness but rather saw the smiles of love I once got from her. The fingers that now played with a twig in nervous angst could not feel the stick but rather felt her hand in mine. Ah, such could have been the life we led, the love we shared, the memories we created in a life that neither hoarded nor created such pain that shredded love's potential. So, while I felt pain in the loss of such limitless potential and human understanding that only such companionship could bring, I took solace in the understanding that this moment was the most selfless one of my life.
She reached out to touch my hand, a sign of pity I allowed without reservation. My mind screamed at me to fight back while my heart simply beat to the rhythm she provided. Had this feeling and understanding but come a few years earlier this touch would have been much different. Rather than signifying the end it would have signified a continuance of Pure Love's grace providing us both the glimpse of heaven that love is supposed to provide. I threw the twig into the fire as she continued about trying but failing to overcome my failures while describing the indelible scars my actions had left. I absorbed every word with a countenance that suggested indifference yet betrayed my acceptance of what had to be. I loved this woman with all of my soul, and in that love I had to simply let her be.
Her explanation finished only served to expose my acceptance. She, as most would, thought my silence and seeming indifference to be an act of defiance that proved her point to the letter. She retired in frustration at my lack of response, leaving me to stare at the fire without thought but in complete contemplation. I could feel tears on my cheeks yet could not cry. I could feel me reaching out to her while my arms were stuck in paralysis. I could hear me calling for her though no sound could leave my soul. One side human suffering at the loss of what he valued so dearly, the other side Being knowing it was as it must be; the darkness of yin that allowed the light of yang to shine.
And that was that. The ending of ego's love that attached myself to her and the beginning of pure love that allowed her to go. Not all things that take a trip through the fire are destroyed, they are merely changed from one thing to another. As I feel the fire burn around me I don't look forward to the result, I merely allow the fire to complete its art. Through it all there is love, that endless array of fuel that allows the fire to burn brightly, that allows the scars to heal and the pain to end. To that end we must all take this trip at some point in our life, and we can either see the trip as painful and our fortunes to be at its end or we can learn from every step we take and every singe offered with the touch of flame. In this figurative, I long to touch the fire and not judge it, to heal the wounds I have created in my ego's desire to be "it", and to love my life as freely and as exorbitantly as possible. I seek not to be loved, but to love...I seek not to be carried but to carry.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved
Such a hope would prove impossible on this night. Her bliss could not be found in my desires, nor mine in hers. One of us would certainly be dancing on this night but at the expense of the joy the other simply could not find. While we had packed lightly for this trip, we carried with us unseen baggage that had accumulated over the years. Even as she vehemently protested that she was not a "hoarder" and that she resented clutter, she certainly hoarded a resentment toward me unlimited by space and undiminished by time. I had done my part in this tragedy as I piled on the pain as one would pile on the charm and in equal delight. I had provided her the cause as she hoarded the effect, and we proved an ample tandem in both pain and pleasure although we shared certainly more in the former than the latter. Such potential wasted by the ignorance of fear and the hoarding of anger had rarely been seen by either, but so stuck on ensuring the grip of both would not resolve we they both to their own demise.
And so it was. Laying around the campfire surrounded by Nature in her glory provided the contrast to the folly of man. As she looked up at me there was a hint of sadness in her beauty compounded by the glistening of teardrops faintly finding their way into her eyes. It became eerily silent at the moment she spoke as if all of the world had paused to hear her voice, as if the universe had ended its purpose but to witness the charm of this woman.
"I just can't do it anymore. I love you but the pain is too great for me to get over." The universe could clearly see, as I could, the trail of tears pouring from her soul. To me, in this reality to which I was steeling myself to survive, these were not tears of sadness as much as they were tears of relief. She had finally found the end to the nightmare and turned the corner to the healing she so richly deserved. My absence would be the healing and this time would be the method by which a beautiful person such as she would end the torture of hoarding that which she had no interest in keeping.
I would be gone.
Such began my trip through the fire, the part of me that suffered in order to burn away fear to find love. This was no ordinary occurrence, it signaled the end of torture for me as well. No more clinging to the final branch of the past "me" that shot out from the sheer cliff of the present moment. So, in her tears I saw relief for her while I felt relief for me. This would be the moment that I would begin suffering anew while finally being able to take comfort in the knowledge that I suffer for the one I love...the Truth...the Way. As her words explaining her position teased the trees that surrounded us, my ears had move on toward the time when I could hear her laugh in delight or moan in ecstasy. My eyes did not see the visage of her sadness but rather saw the smiles of love I once got from her. The fingers that now played with a twig in nervous angst could not feel the stick but rather felt her hand in mine. Ah, such could have been the life we led, the love we shared, the memories we created in a life that neither hoarded nor created such pain that shredded love's potential. So, while I felt pain in the loss of such limitless potential and human understanding that only such companionship could bring, I took solace in the understanding that this moment was the most selfless one of my life.
She reached out to touch my hand, a sign of pity I allowed without reservation. My mind screamed at me to fight back while my heart simply beat to the rhythm she provided. Had this feeling and understanding but come a few years earlier this touch would have been much different. Rather than signifying the end it would have signified a continuance of Pure Love's grace providing us both the glimpse of heaven that love is supposed to provide. I threw the twig into the fire as she continued about trying but failing to overcome my failures while describing the indelible scars my actions had left. I absorbed every word with a countenance that suggested indifference yet betrayed my acceptance of what had to be. I loved this woman with all of my soul, and in that love I had to simply let her be.
Her explanation finished only served to expose my acceptance. She, as most would, thought my silence and seeming indifference to be an act of defiance that proved her point to the letter. She retired in frustration at my lack of response, leaving me to stare at the fire without thought but in complete contemplation. I could feel tears on my cheeks yet could not cry. I could feel me reaching out to her while my arms were stuck in paralysis. I could hear me calling for her though no sound could leave my soul. One side human suffering at the loss of what he valued so dearly, the other side Being knowing it was as it must be; the darkness of yin that allowed the light of yang to shine.
And that was that. The ending of ego's love that attached myself to her and the beginning of pure love that allowed her to go. Not all things that take a trip through the fire are destroyed, they are merely changed from one thing to another. As I feel the fire burn around me I don't look forward to the result, I merely allow the fire to complete its art. Through it all there is love, that endless array of fuel that allows the fire to burn brightly, that allows the scars to heal and the pain to end. To that end we must all take this trip at some point in our life, and we can either see the trip as painful and our fortunes to be at its end or we can learn from every step we take and every singe offered with the touch of flame. In this figurative, I long to touch the fire and not judge it, to heal the wounds I have created in my ego's desire to be "it", and to love my life as freely and as exorbitantly as possible. I seek not to be loved, but to love...I seek not to be carried but to carry.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved
☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
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