Where my vote is going

It's true (if this is news to anyone) that I'm a different breed of opportunist. I do have worldly concerns reflecting my impulses and personal obligations to others: but my focus is directed toward what appears to be less material means and modes of realizing my own potential. If I have learned and discovered one thing thru my experiences that has shaken all of my beliefs, it is that the idea of an individual soul for each human being is an illusion.

This is not to say that there aren't forms of being we can closely identify with our common understanding of soul. It is simply that our outward forms are a display of the interaction and inter-relation of these of these soul forms.

At their root these are distinct only at a level which borders formlessness. In our limited view of them we can identify them as potential conscious energies with a small number of basic attributes.

Regardless of any worldly religious view, real spiritual evolution is a choice/chance based proposition enabling one of these forms to transform an individual human life into a direct conduit for the living heart and essence of its consciousness.
It truly is the only other game in town.

The expression "game in town" is used here to distinguish between how our collective evolution remains extremely compromised by our individual focus on secondary phenomena,instead of its motivating factors.

The tendency has been to recirculate indirectly received bundles of energies, a form that is more like a by-product or waste product than anything else.

Each individual human represents an evolving possibility for the expression of being. It is in the allowance of an individual to make this shift which represents our collective progress in the fulfillment of a single life's purpose.

It is remarkable in the fact that even though distinct soul forms are quite manifold in number and are themselves evolving, it's remarkable that among us they are shared,and shared because that's the way of it all.

Eyes open,eyes closed (I prefer eyes open) it's miraculous,fully alive and the trip of a lifetime. Eyes open,eyes closed (You know my preference) if you aren't doing this ,in some form, things are more screwed up somewhere than they could otherwise be.

The blame, if there is any falls evenly,a share to each plate.

On the upside there are really no lines, just the time for journeying in this way.

The best anyone can do is keep the vibe going when it's possible, it does matter what you do, but matters more how you do it.

Well that's my vote in a nut shell, see you all at the polls.

Created by R.I.P.

I confess as far as my kid (Abraham) is concerned, I wouldn't be dissapointed if he and life conspired into becoming a Poet or a Dervish or both, something/everything/nothing. It seems that I've heard that in order to become either, You need to have fallen in love at least once, get up,learn to walk and wear out a few pairs of shoes.

Imagine my surprise when this 10 yr. old pulls out this folded paper covered with his scratch,wanting to show me his poems.

"Oh, did you do this for school?"

"Nah, I just did'm myself."

"Woah, really ?, what are they about?

"Just stuff"

Back in time,when I was ten, Mrs. Gorby my 5th grade teacher liked a poem written for her class. Her words " You could be a Poet someday" felt like a cool rain after a long dry spell , a drought I could no longer remember the duration of. I seemed to understand one thing about rain, Poets knew things,they discover,remember and explain things that the world has somehow found a deep need for. Can you hear the rain?

There I had been having written "Red is a Fire Engine , going down the Street" and here I'am reading,"Black Roses fill the hearts of 10,000,000 deaths from above" and "Maybe it's just the Bridge or maybe it's just me?" two lines of the number that filled both sides of a page.

At the top margin, floating like a frontspiece, Created by R.I.P.

I'd like to share the Zen reminder which one contained:

"All alone is all we are,

but you never know what

could happen to the feeling

you just felt."

The whole mystery of birth, begins someplace both hidden and known, and just by the chance of landing to one side of a moment in time, waits there to be found again.