Tag Archives: #illridewithyou

Resting in peace

These last months have been incredibly reinforcing of why it is that I have made the decisions that I have made, and also very exacting towards myself to absolutely connect with whatever I went through as an adolescent.

The home of my youth is soon to be moved out of, my mum has sold it and is moving on to dreamlands, and I go to the land of my future, the community that has already stirred and started my life in so many ways, in the realm of gods and golden skies of west Wales.

But, this is by no means and ending of anything.  If anything, it is a reckoning of life in its fullest extent:- a realisation that things all evolve from something.  I am not what I have become without having gone through everything that I have gone through.

I worked at a vegetable factory for 4 days in August.  Those days were the most intense of days.  The love I fell into kindled me, caressed me, and yet my back was like as if about to break.  I had no choice but to quit, despite having found such amazing grace whilst for 11 hours a day sorting rapidly through trillions of beans on a conveyor belt in a completely artificial environment.  Amma, Amma, Amma.  How your name comes to me in the most trying of times…

Last December, early in the morning of Wednesday 17th, I awoke to banging and thick smoke.  I was watching over the house that I was living in whilst the friends I lived with were on holiday in Thailand.  I ventured downstairs, and the living room was a blaze.  Thus became an incredible fight and stark visions.  I was almost naked, yet the heat was pumping me into hypospherical state.  By incredible grace, I was still alive, and I put out the fire, but this was the beginning of a new beginning for me.  I got kicked out of the house a few months later (which was really good of my friends, to give me a few months to steady myself, maintain a sense of solidity..), and this, pretty much, pushed me to see no option other than eventually moving into Skanda Vale.

I don’t want communication with huge amounts of people anymore – no matter how good the communications are, nor how nice the people are.  I don’t want to have comforts anymore.  I don’t want to be earning money so that I could do something with it.  I don’t want to even go dumpster diving anymore.  I want solidity, and to deepen the connections of my heart, and that is all.  Come along and check me out with my progress with that, and you will find me at Skanda Vale.  I move there a week today (Monday 17th October).

Last night, I had a dream.  I had a somewhat apocalyptic dream.  In the dream, there was fire, and smoke, a lot of smoke, everywhere.  The date was 17th October 2015.  And, maybe it is just full of symbolism.  I am burning it all up into smoke.  Just as Chris would often speak of Babylon burning, maybe making a decision like this is all that is needed to send it up into smoke (metaphorically).  All the desires, the putrefaction of life, it can come to an end like this.

Over this past weekend, I have been filled with huge amounts of insights and realisations about loads of things.  The strongest thing was my intimate connection with so much around me.  I had really intimate connections with quite a few people around me, and going to the Thursday Waves 5 Rhythms in Caledonian Road exasperated this, and then just several outpourings of lots of love from different people at the London Skanda Vale seminar filled me to the brim.  This kind of connection needs to be plentiful, and shared all around, to everyone and everything.  You have no idea how far it can go.  It really really does make a massive difference to give someone a hug for a minute instead of a second.  And to dance with even the most lost of people.  And to hold hands, to reach out to each other, to say ‘I am here for you’ over and over whilst looking deep into the other’s eyes and then being told ‘I am here for you’ by the other.  We need to be real!  We need to say things that may sound like they would confuse the situation, even make things weird between us and everyone else, and just say them because there’s no point holding it back anymore!  Say it all!  Express all the love, all of it, all of it.

Jason Rowe taught at the Thursday Waves about going further, never giving up.  He said about how he’d had a really terrible day, everything was going haphazard, to the point of him needing to scream as it had all got too much and I imagine he probably cried a lot too.  This happens in the dance a lot, too.  When we dance, we dance the dance of our lives.  We have our whole lives come out, and speak through movement, crystalise everything around it, freeze it all in time.  And, our lives are full of so much, and so much is really full of emotion.  It follows us upto death, and beyond to everything that goes beyond death.  And all we can do is either ignore it or allow it to take hold of us and cradle us all around this universe.  We are universes waiting to be collide and form all new things.  Our emotion takes us further than anyone or anything else ever can.  We are guided so much more strongly by our tears than a plane by its fuel.

So maybe I am saying goodbye to the world now.  Maybe I am soon to be going into a monastery, where I will spend the rest of this lifetime.  I do not know.  All I know is that it is my next massive leap.  I am leaving everything behind physically, but on a deeper level I am taking everything with me much more so than I have ever done before.  I am taking childhood friends who RIP’d over the years, I am taking former and present loves, I am taking bands and music and energy from projects and the world’s political everything and all of the sufferings of everything that I have taken on in these last few months.  Don’t think I’ve been here just to hang out.  I’m taking it all, and in the world of revolutionary-needing-to-change-absolutely-everything, this is my final big explosion of doing it all.  My activist marching days ended a long while ago, when I realised that I was actually leading hundreds of rioters to wherever they went with my drumming.  I’d got to that point, and it was time to retract, to withdraw and prepare my next hand.  I feel into everything, feel everything that everyone’s going through, take it all in like a hydrogen collider, and store it to be all processed in the only way that I see possible anymore.  There is no place elsewhere in the world where I feel it possible to do so much change.  So don’t think that I’ve withdrawn from the world.  Because I haven’t.  The revolution will not be televised, for there is no television anymore where there is revolution.  We have always been tapping into deeper levels with all this, and a deeper immersion into it all is the only way.  I’m not saying that I’m suddenly better or more elite than anyone else, but that when Phil Ochs ended his life he was ready to work on a deeper level than apparently possible in the world at the time.  When yogis retreat into disappeared places, they don’t do it to forget about or escape the world.  The Buddha was always bigger than Lenin, or than Che Guevara, or than Gandhi, and everything that he did was completely revolutionary.  Thinking and doing and being out-of-the-box.  There’s a reason why there’s a box in the first place, and most of the apparent activist movement, as well as spiritual and everybody else movement, is really quite tightly wrapped up in it because that’s what maya, delusion/illusion, is capable of doing.  We believe so much in our ‘self’ that we see nothing outside of it, and forget about the omnipresence of deeper and more beautiful things because we’ve theorised ourselves away from it.

Resting in Peace.  Here’s to Sophie for building me up for a change that I would’ve never got to had I not been so messed up and thrown all around by our teenage breakup.  Here’s to Phil and Tom for, through the deaths, igniting inspiration to live deeper and fuller than I had been, for clearing the cobwebs inside of me and making sure things really really do count.  Here’s to Graham and the King’s Lynn Firm for combining forces inadvertently in making a real night to remember for me, January 14th 2006.  Here’s to the Fox’s (neighbours) for the comical connections that we’ve shared over the years, seemingly concluding in style more recently.  Here’s to all who have helped this body get to whichever place when it has stuck out a thumb.  Here’s to Alex, for not being afraid or resistant to what felt right.  Here’s to Welsh James, for becoming the life-friend of Nessie, and for joining me with much of the teenage needs to just set fire to things.  Here’s to my parents for all of the dramas that have unfolded in my childhood and adolescent life – all of which, really, they’ve had no choice about at all on a universal level.  Here’s to all three of my siblings, for their continued enthusiasm and always keeping their arms and hands open when I’ve come by.  Here’s to Kudo for providing so much fruit to all around.  Here’s to Larissa, Sam, and all other loves/nearly loves that have taken me on a trip somewhere.  Here’s to pretty much everyone at Skanda Vale for accepting me somewhat unconditionally, every time I’ve gone there, and just allowing me to go through everything I’ve needed to.  Here’s to Nikki, Nikki, Alina, Gabriella, Victor, Dyal Singh…..all who encountered me and offered so much healing and love.  Here’s to Linda, and to Tara, and to bloody Occupy Rob, incredible people to have had as friends at incredible times.  And here’s to the bands that have transformed everything for me all along this journey (in chronological order from oldest to newest..)….AFI, Sick Of It All, Arch Enemy, Bridge To Solace, Vanilla Pod/Frenzy/Stranglehold, Social Distortion, The King Blues, Bomb The Music Industry, A Silver Mt Zion, Okkervil River, Modern Life Is War.  And here’s to Ajahn Brahm, and to Ray Raine, Lama Chime Rinpoche, Guru Sri Subramanium, and all other teachers who have ventured into my life to give nothing but total grace.  Thankyou, even in the darkest of experiences, everything that has happened is everything that has happened, and that is beautiful.

If anyone would like to write to me at Skanda Vale, my address will be this:

Simon Jilley
Skanda Vale,
SA33 6JT
United Kingdom


Epitaph to Phil Vinehill, aka ‘Rest In Metal God Land You Fucking Legend’

Dear Phil,

The whiskey’s for you,
For always being
a Living,
right through
to death.

You congratulated me
on getting out of Norfolk
and traveling.
And said in front of everyone who’d mocked me
That it’s what we need to be doing.

Your final days
apparently you contacted few people
and kept to yourself;

Nat says it was typical of you,
that a quick phone-call and chat
would’ve made everything better.

What you did
Enabled you
To get out.

Now googling your name
comes up with Jimmus’ lyrics
for a band you always pissed on…
quite a cosmic joke
that you,
Phil Vinehill,
are the subject of
a hipster emo song
that is far from the pure metal
that you knew so well.

I remember when
we rang up people across Britain
whose name was ‘Death’
and we spoke from the bible to them.
Then you had to be picked up by your dad
and you convinced me to ask him
about his pink Y-fronts.

Half of the entertainment
in my French class
was trying to get
to start fancying you.

And I remember
when you asked Fiona out
and I was amazed
because for years
I’d been infatuated by her
but you just went for it
and didn’t seem
either way.

When you shaved your head,
so did Jimmus,
and Lee,
they following your lead,
but they never had
the Reebok Classics
that you mocked
the entire world with.

You were the best at giving dead arms,
better than bloody James Spaans,
or Jim Pont,
or Marlon Ignatius.
You left me bruises,
but you told me
that I was the best at bruising arms.

Last time I saw you
after Lifestyles Festival 2010,
Rebelation, Faintest Idea, etc etc.,
you shouted across to two chavs
demanding that
they fight you.
But they were silent
and walked on
trying to ignore
the demand for vengeance
that you stalked.

I left the area, Phil,
and you did too
in early 2011
never coming back.

Well done Phil,
from the bottom of my heart,
well done,
never stopping being you,
you fucking legend.

Buds and Blossoms in the Lights of Chaos

Yesterday I was unsurprised to hear of another ‘Isis’ attack, this time on the completely innocent petty bourgeois white slightly Islamophobic Parisian comic Charlie Hebdo, and for the media to get their spin right this time around, with no widespread compassionate action campaign like what came about from the ‘Sydney Siege’ (not Sydney Street Siege, where Winston Churchill famously allowed two gun-wielding anarchists to be torched alive).  Yesterday morning, the media was quick to point their fingers right into the noses of every Muslim alive, stating that it was the radicalisation of their religion that caused the death of 12 innocent people.  Under a month ago, the first story I read about the situation in Sydney was about the response of hundreds of thousands of people in Australia, offering the ‘#illridewithyou’ support, letting the Muslim community and other minority communities know that, amidst this heightened level of discrimination that minority communities were sure to experience in the wake of the incident, there will be plenty of people to publicly support them whilst on public transport.

Less than a month on, the magic of heartfelt-action seems to need rekindling.  There has not arisen a similar kind of response.  People are responding with fear, and calling themselves Charlie when, maybe, they do not know what this implies.  A number of academics and high-profile activists have already spoken out against following with the crowds in this manner.  That Charlie Hebdo was, actually, pointing fingers in the wrong directions, in divisive ways, in ways much aligned with the French Front Nationale (far-right extremists who have been found responsible for a few other ‘false flag’ events).

I feel lucky, or, more, well-watched-down-upon, to be alive today.  I have a purpose here.  I have a reason to be alive.  I have something major that I am actively here for.
A year ago, I was feeling like I was on the edge of life, and I was struggling to remain calm at the edge of life.  I was becoming intense.  Wherever I would go, it would be the right place for me to be.  I was full of an energy of change, of directly affecting the world around me in the biggest ways possible, but in the most loving ways possible, at all times.  I knew, though, that to live in this world, to live amidst a world that is based on different values, whereby the base value of survival is not important to most people, I needed to change direction or else the message would be lose even from myself.
I sought to root myself.  To do something more socially-centred, to connect on more shallow but more common grounds.  I was feeling exasperated by the situations I was putting myself in.  Nothing was quite working.  I was able to get a short-term thing going, like working at a festival or with doing travel surveys, but something still wasn’t right.
And then I moved here.  In these woods, I’ve found a softness, and found myself being looked after, and somewhat cherished.  I’ve found a normality of living that comes easier for me, that flows better, that I can see myself growing through.

Two nights after my last piece of writing, which I cried hours over writing, I came very close to ending this bodily existence.  It was a terrible mistake, but extremely real.  I woke at 6am to a thumping from downstairs.  The dogs were both alerted too, and faintly barked.  I put a torch on, and there was thick smoke.

I think this has moved me into new directions.  I have told the free education activists that I’ve dropped out of their actions, at least until further notice.  The energy needs to go somewhere radically different.  To something more consistent to the karmic nature of this existence.  Every evening for the last week or so, I’ve been in bed with such a weight that has needing me to be meditating plenty, that has needed me to look deep inside for comfort.  I’ve realised that the external comforts, even those offered by friendly eyes around me, family and friends, are so nourishing that, through a lot of this, I’ve lost connection with the intimate spiritual nature of my existence.  I’ve lost touch with it, I’ve been distracted.  I received a huge teaching over the last week.  With the intensity of things going on, I’ve seen the Buddhist teaching of Right Speech and Right Action.  So much of speech is useless, is created through erratic or needy energy, and ends up having a draining effect.  I love being in silent presence with other people.  We break the silence to say our useless stuff, and then go back to the silence.  Same goes for actions.

I realise, as I keep realising again and again throughout this life, that this is done on my own.  There are people that will come and will go from being around me.  And there are feelings, sensations, experiences, that will come and go.  I will most probably come and go, too.  But I can find a warm sense of truth in the nature of my solitary path.  It’s a path emblazened with light and is shimmering as well as trembling.  It will end when it is time to end, and it will weave in and out of things as weavings need.  Had I not heard thumping, had I not acted so sharply, I may have burnt to ash in those moments.  How am I supposed to respond to this?  My response will never be how it is ‘supposed to be’.  It is what it is.  Joyfully solitary.  Riding the waves till the big one, that will take this body on to new soils.  Clasping nothing, but the beating heart that electrifies the sounds in my ears.  Just holding it, never wanting to remember what it feels like because it feels like a bloody treasure trove every time I reach into it.

We have got to be spreading more love and light around the world, whether physically or spiritually, just spread it as far as it can go, and then spread it further.

#IllRideWithYou, always ❤

On Islam, and the importance of bonding to unify civilisation

the embrace

I was astounded to read all over the web today [see: http://mic.com/articles/106442/australians-show-the-world-exactly-how-to-respond-to-terrorism-with-ill-ride-with-you%5D about the tremendous coming-together of hundreds of thousands of people in support of Muslims everywhere after an ‘Islamic State’ story again gripped the imaginations of millions.

Responding out of nothing but unconditional love and devotion, hundreds of thousands joined the #IllRideWithYou movement, with many disclosing details about their bus, train or tube journeys and that any vulnerable person may happily join them on their journey and feel very much supported.

As a long-term supporter of Islamic freedom from discrimination, it felt like today was an absolutely momentous day for Islamic communities around the world (even if in just a small way).  I remember having arguments in my Sociology classes at aged 16, some 8 years ago, about the unjust discrimination against Islamic people.  I’ve fought it consistently for all of my adolescent and adult life.  There has never been a doubt in my mind that the Muslim people must be loved, just as with any people, and maybe especially much so because of the treatment that they so often receive.  It has always felt like a critical cause for the state of civilisation.

And here we stand, on the potential edge of civilisation.  I just read about how a GM crop of corn has  wiped out about 37 million bees in Ontario, Canada [http://earthweareone.com/37-million-bees-found-dead-in-ontario-canada-after-planting-large-gmo-corn-field/].  This will probably go largely unreported – because, well, it only amounts to about 600 hives and I guess it’s when billions of bees start dying that we start to care – but it’s just as valid of a depiction of the apocalypse, the great unveiling (from Greek apokalyptein, to ‘uncover’).  We’re able to see the world for what it is through the great tragedies that unfold.

I have experienced kinds of realisations relating to people and environments, to humanity and what ‘humanity’ entails, and to cognitive understandings and responses to ‘the moment’.  We just can’t love enough.  There’s so much that needs to be worked on, the situation is rather urgent, but we’re still get lost…trapped somewhat…in our own minds, our own sufferings, our own inner turmoils and torments.  I see in people all around me that the attitudes towards really changing things in lives and surroundings is flustered by the tribulations or desires that we get ourselves lost in.  There are very very few people that I could see chaining themselves to a building for something that really mattered.  If we see that a rape is happening right in front of us, would we not intervene, stop it, because it is so bloody wrong?

I see the world being raped of it’s naturally loving nature.  I see that through such campaigns as Islamophobia and the wars that it unfolds, through the damaging attitudes of the wilderness we have been forced to believe because of ‘needing to cultivate the world in order to sustain the human population’, through limiting ours and our brothers and sisters’ beliefs through dogmatism (be it religious or atheist/non-secular), through fierce domestication/consumerist extremism (to the point of everyone having to living in concrete shells, with street lighting blocking any understanding of natural darkness, and pollution clouding our minds, hopes and dreams, and plagueing ourselves in this cell of a career-orientated life with our outward-stretching wings clipped so short that we can never possibly fly free), we are blocking the naturally-occurring sweetness from even existing in life. If we are to discover anything more than the shell within which we’ve been told to live (physically, spiritually, and symbolically), we drop it all and venture immediately into the little wilderness that we still have left in this world, and reach our arms out and embrace every human and non-human that comes our way, and welcome them into our ever-growing family.

This #illridewithyou campaign has ignited something.  I feel it.  I hear it.  The tears that streamed down my cheeks a few hours ago upon reading about the universal and unconditional love that is finally publically showing itself en-masse are tears of compassion, the kind of compassion that a revolution is wholly based upon.  And, the brave amongst us will chain ourselves, throw ourselves down and through everything, to bring this change about, to spread the love as a wildfire.  The brave amongst us will tear apart this system of fear and repression, replace it with our own that is not a system and nor can be pieced together.  Know that true love is the light in my sister’s darling eyes.

When the world is sick
can’t noone be well,
but I dreamt we was all
beautiful and strong.