Monthly Archives: November 2013

They drew first blood: be gentle

Look what she told me;
I was dead and never could return.
It is within me
that the darkness is born.

tortoise breath

I have been strolling and not stopping, really, for a long time.  Times in the community were magic, and the building of love has been sacred.  The city stirred the energy to new heights, and leaving the city was even incredible.

Things have stopped.

I arrived back to my mum’s house in the reclaimed marshes on the cusp of The Wash in Norfolk on Monday evening, after perhaps nine weeks away.  Nine weeks of high-energy everythingness.  I come back here, and the energy is as high as ever.

Thing is – the facade is slow and repetitive and like as if everything is glued stuck.  But, beneath this, everything is busier than I’ve experienced in these last months.  I’m grinding to a halt here, as I’m forced to allow everything to surface.  Everything?  Everything?

I distract myself with projects.  I’m not doing much, but the energy is high in everything.

I have the roar of a friend of mine playing bass in a band that started in these parts.  People who threw their energy into a touring musical madness:- they are one of the most energetic bands you will hear in this country, and their live shows are incredible.  They pour seemlessness into my chest, through these speakers, the vibrations changing things inside of me.

I have spoken with people recently about my roots here.  Norfolk, oh Norfolk, where are you?  What are you?  What is this place?
I have understood places that have ripped me to pieces, places that have exhausted, places where there’s so much going on and it all seems like madness.  I understood London very well, recently.  These parts are working on something deeper and crisper, and I have never understood much of it.
There will be something happening here in the future.  I’ve felt a pulsation of it through me.  Does this mean I reach this life and love out to fixate on this?  It all happens as a breath.  Lifeforce.
I hold a manifesto for revolution, and, whilst there are areas that I have been that have held their own as bases for this and I have seen huge developments in this places, this East Anglian landscape must be where everything begins and ends for me.  That is what these roots mean.
I spoke with my mother about this, and I have spoken with her a lot before about it.  She will not be joining me on this pursuit.  She does not hold a future for this area.  She is scared to die here.  Her fear forms a stronger foundation for revolution.

This is a rare time for me now.  I am now in my third day of being structureless, of staying up until dawn, and of not being at all clear-headed with what I am doing with myself.

We shared a body scan meditation earlier.  Shortly after the meditation finished, I found a mantra inside me.  It said be gentle.  There is so much that has been happening.  There is so much energy going into so many different things, and I feel like I have extended my energy outwards to quite a distance.

But is this life?
But is this all necessary?
But what if
What if I were to just
for a day or two?
Like as if existence never happened
and then I return
like as if I never disappeared.

I carry on, and observe as everything comes up and goes back down.


The last road out of the city when the city explodes

Tuesday 19th November 2013, 11.30am, Gare du Nord.

I am sat in front of an absolutely fascinating body.

A guy came up to me presenting me with €5 “pour manger”, which I tried to refuse but he was insistent.  Then an ‘English’ guy, who had such a thick European accent, just came up to me telling me not to take the risk; that I should put shoes on.  He then asked if I take money, I said no, and he said ‘don’t be silly’ and made money appear in my hands.  He went his way, and I saw that he had given me some twenty five pence and twenty cents.

This spot is great.  This mysterious device: it has a screen at the front of it, that plays back what the world was like three seconds ago.  People see it occasionally, especially when it begins to light up.  It stops them in their tracks to notice the actions that they made some seconds ago.  It offers a moment of surrealness, that acts almost the same as turning a kriya, and people receive their very slight spiritual awakenings.

ImageThen, very very occasionally (I am told that it happens once an hour, but I doubt that it is this rigid), the body comes alive.  All its lights come on, smoke puffs out everywhere, we’re entranced by Millennium Dome-like music, the head pushes up with hydraulics, and a ball starts to move around in its guts.  It looks like a dodgy 1970s contraption that you’d find in the Science Museum in London, but it feels like an emanation of Avalokiteshwara.  Soft, beautiful, loving kindness vibrating out to the bust of our very humanity.

The air is cold, crisp and sweet here.  My feet are bare, for what feels like the first time properly since two months ago.  Things feel very calm inside of me, and I feel I have had a momentous change throughout me since I last stopped with my feet bare.  It is an ultimate trust in a guiding spirit, and in all of the elements working together to make everything be brilliant.  Satnam.