Archive for September, 2019

A Few Not-So-Funny Things that Kept Happening on My Way to the Word Processors

Posted in Bardo Thordol, Crazy Zen Wisdom, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, That was Zen, and this is Tao, The Liberation Through Hearing on September 21, 2019 by dreamlanddancing

 

 

A few days ago, I received an anniversary notice from WordPress, congratulating me on my seventh anniversary of DreamlandDancing.

Most bloggers run out of steam in less than five years, which is curiously enough, also the make/break point for most small businesses.

Four years ago, my health went into what seemed to be a death spiral of numerous ailments, finally (hopefully) culminating in open heart surgery this last January.

Recuperation is not necessarily always as planned, and one thing just seems to lead to another…

Nervous breakdowns are inconvenient, embarrassing, and have a tendency to undermine one’s credibility, but I would be remiss not to admit that essentially all of the epiphanies, revelations, moments of clarity, and illuminations that I have experienced revealed themselves to me as the fabric of my Consciousness, Intellect, and Reason unraveled.

Suddenly faced with no A Priori assumptions, deconstructing what I perceived as Reality, allowed, if not encouraged me to let the most necessary components of my world align themselves according to their nature, rather than my previously preconceived notions.

“There are two ways to be fooled; one is to believe what is not true, the other is to refuse to believe what is.”  (Søren Kierkegaard)

I have often felt like I was playing “Chicken” with my own sanity in my search for the Truth, and eventually, I always lost because I kept playing until…so I have learned to consider myself blessed by these events.

It seems obvious to me that although I have what may well be the worst judgment in the world, the fact that I am not dead, in prison, or an asylum gives strong credence to the notion that I may also be the luckiest man in the world, or at least a strong contender for the title.

Meanwhile, I rebuilt the engine of my son’s 1987 Firebird while recuperating from a back injury in time for him to be able to drive it while on leave after returning from Afghanistan.

I fell down a very long, dangerous rabbit hole “researching” the production of moonshine for my current work Once in a Blue Agave Moon, but have done precious little writing.

In less than a week’s time, with no notice, I was forced to build a storage shed and workshop for my tools, or face losing them.

I’ve lost track of how many hurricanes have highjacked my energy, thoughts, and time these last several years.

The old adage about how when one door closes, another one opens has also proven true, and after several decades have once again begun researching, writing, playing, and recording a song cycle devoted to resonating our Chakras entitled “Ode to a Roomful of Tibetan Singing Bowls.”

Thordol Bardo, or The Enlightenment through Hearing has taken on new meaning and import for me.

I joined a drum circle, even though I have never considered myself a percussionist.

After months of intractable pain, thanks to Zen meditation and several Taoist exercises, I have learned how to successfully manage severe chronic pain, although it curiously inspired my occasional byline, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist.

(I am still an Atheist.)

Zen does not require me to invent a god in my, or anyone else’s image.

I have been a “gun-toting Pacifist” for several decades. I see no contradictions in that statement, considering that it has allowed me to save several lives other than just my own; nevertheless, ironically, the worst abuse I face on a regular basis comes from those who do not share my beliefs.

Are they or are they not also Pacifists?

I would ask them “How many people does it take to achieve World Peace?” The source of all conflict still lives within each of us, but until we learn to conquer it, there can be little hope for our mutual advancement.

That is why the Shaolin Monks devised Kung Fu.

I choose to stay alive out of love, so that I may share it with all who would appreciate it, until each of us realizes that the answer is just “One.”

Most of my life has followed trends or periods of time when a particular thought or principle seemed to predominate those events, and they have appeared to represent cycles that repeat themselves, allowing me the opportunity to correct, or anticipate events where or when my notoriously bad judgement taught me the error of my ways…hey look, regardless of judgement, I’m not STUPID!

The fact remains that so much remains undone and unwritten.

A few days ago, after meditating, I recognized a familiar state of mind that had come to me  several decades ago, a portent of what was unfolding, which involves change, and growth to face an uncertain future.

It was when I recognized my true self, my need for uncertainty and change, that I learned to embrace my fate, powered by my resolve, after understanding that I don’t have to only write the songs that make me cry.

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”

(Søren Kierkegaard)

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

09/21/2019

OIABAM: Indeterminacy, chapter31

Posted in Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on September 20, 2019 by dreamlanddancing

 

His best friend, a retired porn star he had once rescued long ago, two of the great loves of his life, and his wife…now thoroughly infatuated with his best friend.

All the necessary ingredients for a really complicated Daisy-Chain of Karma.

With all the commotion and uproar since their arrival, it was in the occasional odd quiet moments that he realized how much Amy’s sudden appearance had managed to preoccupy increasingly larger portions of Elliott’s most private thoughts.

Amy Rogers; originally of Miami Beach, of late a true Mondo Civitano.

Her intellect at least matched (perhaps even exceeded) Elliott’s, which not only hypnotized him when they first met, but he soon began to realize just how shrewd she had been since they had arrived.

When she called him “Boss” over the radio, he couldn’t have been more stunned, and once it sank in that it really was her, he was overcome with emotion, realizing that he might just “choke” (cry) when he saw her, (absolutely not acceptable in his world), but instead she managed to slip back and forth between distraction (with Rebel’s help) and just enough familiarity to provoke speculation without showing her hand.

(It never occurred to Elliott that Amy might be just as apprehensive about direct, sincere, or emotional interaction as he was.)

She had been like a fan-dancer, showing only as much as she chose, all the while implying…hinting…alluding to so much more.

Up until she had explained some of the visual experiences associated with The Knowledge…, she had also scrupulously avoided exposing either her mind, or the depth of her character, or how well-cultured she really was, but to Elliott, it had been conspicuous in its absence.

She knew that he would be expecting her to reveal her intentions, all the while playing coy, ever the coquette, avoiding direct interactions with Elliott, and using Jeannette Rogers, her “twin sister of different mothers and fathers” (aka Rebel, Rebecca Steele, and about a dozen other aliases) as bait to sweeten the deal, much like she had done so many times before, so long ago, without having to risk outright rejection.

…Not a second time, and he knew it, having had so many years to ponder if it had been a mistake to let her walk away the first time.

They both pretended it was mutual, even though neither of them wanted it to end, each hoping the other would intercede; both of them regretting that they hadn’t, even as they were doing it…Ah! Pride….

In the bigger scheme of things, they probably had a metric shit-ton of Karma to burn off first…and other fish to fry…but this had been unresolved for so long; long gone, but not forgotten…just sent to a dormant wing of each others’ brains that had been shut down since that acid trip at the Pink Floyd concert.

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

09/20/2019

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Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei 

さよなら絶望先生

(Goodbye, Master of Despair)

 

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