opposites but not equals

Is it that atheism doesn’t quite cut it if you think about it?
Is it the same for theism? If so, why?

Is it because both are beliefs? Are both things that can’t be proven?
Is it that they are opposites but not equals?

Is it that reality is not found halfway between them?
Wouldn’t reality logically be over close to atheism because
no magical thinking is required?

Is there gathered in that reality near atheism
a bunch of humanists giving thumbs-up
to the peace makers and promoting
good will toward all of the
earth’s creatures?

Or is that too much to imagine?

 

who points the tractor

Could it be that I’m not having a spiritual experience but the spiritual experience is having me, and I’m at the party but can’t experience it and never will?

So from this point of view can I see that awareness, intelligence and understanding are not my productions, but I can experience and use them?

Have I become something short of becoming?
Am I a real dream that can talk about these gifts and use them?
Are these gifts the actual farmers of existence and I the dream who points the tractor?

the adventure begins

Do you think it’s you
who is able to recognize the scent of a rose
and shiver with pleasure at the colors in the sky?

What if it were not you?

Are you and I utilities of our beings?
Is it that we don’t take up any room in the brain?
Are we special circuits in the brain?

Are we complex dreams created to
aid the being
and we took control naturally
when we began to recognize our name?

And the adventure begins…
and to skip a long story…

What’s the ultimate?
Finding a way to commune with (experience)
one’s own being?
(there’s that double possessive again)

How? All the sages agree on this one thing.
Somehow the daily stopping of the
flow of language does the job.

 

 

my wonderful cage

Why is it so hard to move out of the way in order to experience existence as the fountain of nowness? Is finding a way to escape from the constant flow of ideas the way? Must I give up the clankings of language for periods of time?

Is language my wonderful cage?
As I bump and grind along in the busyness of living?

Does the being wait to be sought out?
Or is waiting an issue for it?
Is the being my timeless part
because it’s always in the moment?

Am I a joint project which starts automatically
and the universe finishes sooner or later?

What is awareness? Is it a door out of myself or a door into myself or a door that does away with me the identity? Should talking and thinking about anything that messes with me be an awful, evil plot?