Nobody knows where they came from
Or why they do anything.
Everyone is completely lost.
We lovers, who have tasted freedom, are no different
Except in one respect:
We know that we know nothing.
We are no longer pretending, no longer fooling ourselves.
We make our home in the mystery (a little ring of tents on the side of the mountain).
We are fools and joyous for it.
We look out across the void and glimpse
A path between existence and non-existence.
The path whispers: come and play!
Something inconceivable awaits you.
Countless friends are conspiring to bring you home.
Be a barefooted wanderer. God grants wings to a person who does not let themselves be overcome by bodily desires and feelings, and saves themselves from their influence. Leave thoughts and worries. May your heart be as pure as the face of the mirror in which there is no image.
Do you need to know what a pilgrimage is to embark on one? Do you need a clear intention, destination and dedication to a religious tradition? A belief in God or the divine? No. You need none of these things. If you are alive on Earth, you are…
I opened the book and tasted the pain of Man imprisoned in Himself. And I could not read on: the corners of the page were licked by flame, and I knew: this book too will burn, and I with it, and what shall be left then? What will I read when I enter the void? Whose voice will help me then? No, it cannot be that way, for then I would be found in the place where all is lost. …
Carl Jung said that a single question is “the most telling of one’s life”. It is this:
Are you related to something infinite, or not?
If we are, we know about it, as life begins to melt and transform into something unimaginable, something beyond belief.
If not, how are we to get there? The answer provided by so many traditions worldwide is to pray.
Prayer is a coming into relation with the infinite, the unknown, the ungraspable and impossible. It is a state of communion with the miracle of life. You do not need to believe in God, or in…
What do you want to write?
If you ever ask this question, try asking a second one:
What do you want to read?
What do you want to read that you simply cannot find anywhere else?
Once you know the answer, write it. Write the shit that you want to read.
Actually no, not that.
Write the shit you are hungry to read, desperate to read, the shit that you cannot find on the internet, in the depths of your countless books, even in your own journals.
As long and hard as you look, there is that one area that…
If we’re ever going to build utopias out there in the world, we first need to build them in here, with the constructive powers of our minds and hearts.
Utopia begins with our metaphysics: our deepest beliefs about reality and existence. These beliefs determine all of our actions and behaviours, and the worlds we create, discover and navigate when we wake up each day. If we come to truly believe in our freedom and connectedness, our beauty, creativity and empowerment, then we will begin to manifest an external world that reflects those beliefs.
The mind is the forerunner of all…
Our guide on this journey will be the legendary psychologist Carl Gustav Jung.
Did you know that, by some accounts, a single poetry reading kickstarted the sixties counterculture revolution?
The Six Poets at the Six Gallery.
October 7, 1955. San Francisco.
“It was the poetry slam to end all slams.”
In a garage converted into an art gallery, six young and unknown poets read their work to around 150 people:
Philip Lamantia, Michael McClure, Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, Phil Whalen, Kenneth Rexroth, and Jack Kerouac.
Central to the evening was the first ever public reading of Allen Ginsberg’s 22-minute poem Howl. …
Odyssey of a mystery, life is held in jacket potatoes, oven baked crisp
to the brim of receiptful doubt, pious is love as a thrush pleading in mid-air
electrochemical bells sound, unison clasped to present truth as honesty, labour force driven north
demystifying 60’s LSD trips, music moved as vibrations penetrating into the essential core
of metaphysics, freedom and liberty; expression was taped to reproduce history with a pick
deconstructing language, syntax adds grammar and double negatives hoard paradoxes
crowding the passageway to the Colosseum, Rome rose up in furious distention
evaporating noise to drown out sorry hearts…
We stood in a circle, watching the dancers in the middle. One of them produced a red scarf, long and bright, and began to wave and twirl it before our eyes. The other dancers were transfixed and started following the scarf’s every flicker and movement through the space. They reached for it, they flowed with it, they moved around it like beasts on their hands and feet. One by one, people from the circle — the “audience” — were drawn in, trailing the scarf and acting out all kinds of theatrical scenarios (tugs of war, chases, mummifications) in their quest…
Magical Realist. Metamodern Beat.