Covert Conflicts

If you contract around someone you automatically get involved, you congeal into a role, a pole in reaction to the other person’s role as the opposite, counter pole. You are in reaction. The quickest way out of the scheme of this ill-bred predicament is to let the truth claim your heart on the spot and proceed to share your overall intent [to lighten up] with this particular individual too, to project love onto them behind their back. Now, unbeknownst to them, you set the super-frame that defines the game you two play—which is the game of the open heart.

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Conscience

People manipulate each other emotionally because they are terrified, and they are terrified because they are identified with their brittle little bitter ego and feel compelled to defer their pain by blaming, guilting and shaming the other. And it goes both ways: The trigger-happy are quick to click the bait—only those ego-identified can be emotionally abused. The way out is opening into it, right into the fear, the sheer terror, of ’it.’ So long as your intent is pure—to lighten up and to see, efficiency & transparency, the truth—they have nothing against you. Nothing. If your overall frame towards others is: I am here for you. If you have something real to give to the world, I am here to see and appreciate it, otherwise I am blind to you—your conscience is clear.

Unclenching

~is the practice of relaxing into the truth of this moment & seeing the phantoms I had been chasing a moment ago for the phantoms that they actually are. It typically involves solitude and minimal distraction, idling and sinking into a kind of rippling that sometimes literally pops up through the stomach.

I’ve reached the point where the challenge is to bring the practice of unclenching into the realm of engagement, of social interaction. Clenching typically occurs as I engage others (particular faces) who mean something to me and I start to seek more validation and more rapport or to find ways to avoid further entanglement with them. In other words, there is a texture of push or pull type of energy taking over. I used to snap out of this happen-trance in solitude but now the next step seems to be to bring the practice of [transpersonal] unclenching into the thick of [interpersonal] engagement. This is, incidentally, how work becomes invigorating exercise rather than a chore. As MMA fighters know well recovery needs to happen during the lulls in the fight for them to be able to go the distance efficiently.

Allow

Feel your fear, heed the bitter, sour sounds of your fear, listen to its rumbling voice, follow it to its deepest reaching root, where it actually stems from, ferret out the seed of it and let it shoot into the story, the stalk, your character role, see the unfolding plot, the whole picture of it, spot the projected belief and sniff at the foul fragrance, the strong stench it emits, let it bloom full and drop its petals, one by one, all of those pale blue petals, and then, let it wither, on the spot, and rot.

Aperture

When you engage outside the pattern of collective neurosis you risk rapport constantly as you trick them into forgetting and surrendering themselves out of the safety of the familiar personal form before they remember to flip out and squirm and resort to try and guilt and shame you into assuming proper character or a relatable role on the neurotic terms of ego and so you get triggered and you spew fuckoff yall smallminded mo fos inside I wont play by no rules of yours I wont play no victim shit I wont engage no power hour no manipulation no emotional chess no drama whatso ever I wont budge to the pull of no expectation I wont play no part NO FUCKEN PART wont abandon the truth for noonessake for crissakes wont take your crap on wont take it serious wont take it personal and I wont be responsible I wont harbour no false conscience fuckoffyall closedminded controlfreaks all you uptight frustrated troll bitches fuckoff yall narcissistic insecure pussies am ready to lose face, respect, rapport and touch, am ready to mess up, to let down, to abandon and be abandoned, am ready to be mocked, dissed and ridiculed, I ain’t nobody for anybody any longer FUCK YOU is all I got to say to you FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCKTHEFUCK YOUALL is all I get to say as on the tailend it frays and fizzles out and the aperture widens and what trickles is love nevertheless instead the love that shines with no flinch and no wince an open pupil that dilates the love that pulls all in and through out, irresistible, real, for real

Captain Plan B

One type of planning involves an image in the mind that you are fixating on and that causes anxiety and stress. The other type is the one that is basically a knowledge of what’s already unfolding (through you). The best plan is the one where you feel called to relax more and more efficiently into the self-assembling scheme of the plan itself. In other words there is a sense that all the steps that need to be taken and all the tasks that need attending arise organically, and you don’t exert more force than necessary. Instead, you are as economical with exerting force as it gets since you recognize that there is no need for control and nothing has to be held together and so there is no rush, no hurry, no stress, no worry—all is required is that you direct your attention to the issue at hand and truncate the tendrils of fixation cropping up. Figuratively speaking: You hold your hand open as a cup rather than grasp after what you fancy or at what falls into it. Execution requires no clenching or sustained focus and fixation. Again, all that is required is attention. Discern the distinction! To attend [rather than fixate] means that you never need to do or come up with anything at all so long as you simply direct your attention to what you intend, no matter how long it takes, the best idea, the best insight, the best action comes of its own accord if you rest your attention there long enough. All of life comes basically down to this one thing: to your patterns of attending.

Uncongeal on the Go

Heed—the fear-mongering, reverberating-berating, annoying noise rising from the rumbling belly of your ego-chamber. Witness the sinking, the slippage into a lower vibration, fear taking over and saturating your heart, with guilt, shame and anxiety rising, as you turn small-minded, heavy, dense, compacted and contracted, an ego with a narrow vantage, a victim, an underdog, desperate to protect and prove itself—and the instant you see it, regroup and reground on the spot, shake free of the cushy coils of the asphyxiating trance, the congealing quicksilver of self-image, the particular role you’ve obliviously assumed once again, let it all slough off as you reunite with the truth. Practice—to find your poise in the eye of any kind of psychological storm.