rituals

MoonBlog 2.5

The Reflector Lunar Cycle is not a ritual to obey and follow, that when you don’t, someting bad happens.

It is not about ticking off all the boxes of pre-requisites, and then live happily ever after either.

It’s about becoming such a calm silent observer, for the incredible subtleties of what is already going on, outside (transits, people) and inside (perceptions, experiences) self and not-self, that you can live in awareness of where life takes you, what your Trajectory is, and to relax into how choice-less we all are.

To surrender to that, and see, observe and witness, what that is like.

While dancing the jitterbug, riding your bicycle, making out, cooking dinner or anything else.

MoonBlog 2.5
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MoonBlog 35.3

To be grateful is a hoax, another trick of the mind, to soothe ourselves into believing in the goodness of the life we live, to focus on that one side of life to feel good about ourselves and our life. But who needs one-sided tricks to do that, to simply enjoy and accept all of it?

To include the drama, the horrors, the hurt, the cheating lovers, the broken down car, the crashed banks, why can we not be grateful about that? Why is striving for gratitude even an issue, what do we have to prove, to ourselves or others. Humbleness does not show, especially not on FaceTube

We can see the forced efforts in the sentences, comments, and even the videos, so desperately trying to show and show off what the fuck we are so grateful about. And the horror of admitting -that- is palpable.
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Moon Blog 59.4

All those lovely creatures doing all their coming together, all kinds of spiritual work, all the rituals all the movements, all the behaviorisms deemed to help them wake up, or even maybe, possibly, some day, if they are good enough, attain enlightenment. while not for once seeing, seeing with their minds eyes, that they will be stuck in the mannerisms and meditations the yoga exercises the roughing it out and chantings in groups, the long or short pilgrimages in the illusion that that is, how you wake the fuck up. That it is through the act, the doing, the postures, day in and day out, is how you become, or are a good person, a correct person, one who is awake. And all that is now needed, is only more people doing exactly like you are, thinking exactly like you too, what you are against, what you are for, having the same vision of how to better a world, how to change what is unwanted. If my own individual thoughts and behaviours, prayers, mantra’s and facetube posts do not help, it must be a numbers game. 144.000 people maybe/perhaps, as we then seek and ploy, to gain momentum, never alone, never enough, never good enough, never, NEVER ! How to change, this, and that, change, never accepting, never dropping, never letting go. Well, letting go of all the things we deem bad in ourselves, dropping all of those that we can not include in our vision for this world, for what we deem and seem and agree upon of what is spiritually correct, as we make signs to hang next to our frontdoors “love and light only”. While still not understanding why we, ourselves still suffer so much, inside, and when we can not contain it any longer, as it overflows our outside, our connections with others, our interactions, where we feel shame for our human behaviour, where we talk and talk gratuitously about our perceived wrongdoings, but never about our unwanted thoughts, our unwanted desires our yearnings, cravings, that are unfit to share, to express. How we overflow with angry frustrations, about our lives, our situations, our love lives. how, we, overflow but keep our heads down in search for the next, the next, the next… solution, the next meditation, the next group, in the next country, with the next lover. That lover who is, just like us, so open minded, so identical to our vision for the world, that was never my own vision but is something I fell into, and adhered to, felt drawn to. So I would not feel so alone anymore, so helpless, and incompetent, so ashamed, so angry, so… Until that lover too turns out to be an angry frustrated overflowing blob of shameful helplessness trapped in mannerisms and behaviourisms clinging with clasping fingertips to a sign from a frontdoor packing a bag in the hasted escape to another, the next, the … other… the other…?
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