Awakening

Let me call upon you now.

Every thought calls you.

Every breath calls you.

As the waves come upon the shore, so do I call you.

Let me feel you press upon me.

Do you stare upon me as I look to see you?

So much is unseen, unheard, unknown, yet surely there.

Lift my senses into the higher realms.

The waiting is over.

I ask for a drop, and you give me buckets, oceans.

Light my way.

Let it be easy and sure and powerful.

You all seem to talk in one voice.

When you think you are awake, you’re not. You go for a walk along a path in the woods, and you are fully awake, at least in your mind. But from a different perspective, are you awake? No you are not. You are sleeping. Why? Because your mind is full of thoughts, ideas, tasks to be done. All of these mental activities are moving at the speed of light. Your eyes are open. You look awake to the world. But you really are not.

You’re not really present. You’re far away. You’re unaware of your present world.

A frog can hop at your foot, and you won’t even see it.

Introduction

John:

Matt, what do you see what you are doing. Let’s say, if you could go into the future about 5 years from now. What would you like to have happen, with all the effort you are putting into traveling to all these cities, meeting all these people, and putting yourself out so everyone gets a chance to personally, see, feel, sense, who you are and what you are about?

I was born into a prepared place here,
Where geniuses leave their marks,
That everything is better still.

Thank you you who first sung a song.
Perhaps the birds led the way.

Thank you you who first baked a pot from clay.
Perhaps fiery stones led the way.

Thank you you who first made a word.
Perhaps the call of sheep led the way.

Thank you you who first picked berries and nuts as food.
Perhaps you watched the deer and squirrel.

Thank you you who first made a wooden spoon.
Perhaps you saw rainwater gather in a cleft of wood.

I love to see things that are so tangled they defy all logic to untangle or even understand their pattern.

Near our house is a Byzantine church. That in itself is so beautiful when they play the church bells with something like a piano keyboard. Anyhow, there is a huge nettle, a giant, wild hedge with small birds darting in and out.

Hundreds of birds seem to live in there. It is so amazing that they can so quickly and accurately navigate this dense and obtuse tangle of hedge at such a high speed. They must be geniuses.

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts. And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart, you live in your lips. And sound is a diversion and a pastime.

And in much of your talking, thinking is half-murdered, for thought is a bird of space, that in a cage or words may indeed unfold its wings, but cannot fly.

Say not, “I have found the truth,” but rather “I have found a truth.”

Say not, “I have found the path of the soul,” but say rather, “I have met the soul walking upon my path.”

For the soul walks upon all paths. The soul walks not upon a line. Neither does it grow like a reed.

The soul unfolds itself like a lotus of countless petals.

Your heart knows in silence, the secrets of the days and the nights.

But your ears thirst for the sounds of your heart’s knowledge.

You would know in words, that which you have always known in thought.

It is amazing how our subconscious can change what we actually see.

I remember reading about a person, who when hypnotized could not see another person. Their mind was able to completely eliminate that other person from anything they were looking at. Their mind would fill in the background so the person looked invisible.

What does this say about us?

Every day you get up and you head to work. You drive the same way. You take the same roads, the same highways, you make the same turns. But perhaps you commute via train or subway. Five days a week, for the last five years, and it’ll be going on for the next ten years.

To Be Done