Yes, Now!

From "Living Enlightenment" by Andrew Cohen:

...Why do I still feel so strongly that I need more time, that I'm not ready to let go yet?

Because the ego always needs more time. The perennial refrain of the ego in the face of the call from the Absolute is, "I'm not ready yet, I need more time." And it always sounds so reasonable- from a relative perspective. But from an absolute perspective there is no time. And the call of the spirit, the call of the True Self - the command to evolve to a higher state of consciousness - comes from that absolute dimension where time does not exist. Once again, the Absolute never hears the ego's pleas. Its ceaseless refrain is: "Every moment that you hesitate, you're keeping yourself from me." Its constant demand is always, "Now!" and the ego insists, yet again, "no, I'm not ready." This is the spiritual drama that has played itself out between man and God for thousands of years - between the individual sense of self and the call of the Absolute. The whole point of spiritual life is to surrender unconditionally to that call, and that means the end of time - the end of your time. This is what the spiritual drama is all about - the dynamic tension between the ego's endless excuses and the call for unconditional submission from the Absolute.

Shadow

Haunted, originally uploaded by Kitten.

A pic I might use in the near future for the new MKP Mens group I'm facilitating.





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We like how you look, but we don't want you here.

The irony in this story is terrible. I'm praying that the Australian government, after it's wiped the egg from it's face, might just show some sense and give the family the visa they deserve. I know the family involved, and I'm angry about the injustice of this case.

Pass it on.

Follow that bus

Last Friday I was heading towards Brisbane for an MKP training over the weekend, and then a work conference for four days. I'd packed nearly all my fit-to-be-seen-in clothes into a suitcase.

I left my suitcase on the bus to work.

I ran down the street after the bus, and lost it at the traffic lights. I jumped into a taxi, who refused to follow that bus, until I promised him $20 for the pursuit. I got to Circular Quay, and the bus was nowhere to be found. I phoned up the depot, and they contacted the bus, but the driver reported no massive suitcase sitting in the luggage compartment. As I sat there on the pavement, with no idea what to do, berating myself for the mistake I'd made, frustrated at yet another spawn of chaos I'd generated in my life, despairing that I don't have the money to buy more clothes, I convinced myself my life had fallen apart.

Luckily, I have friends I can call; friends who know how to remind me to breath.

My suitcase was found, and all turned out well, except that somewhere in the midst of recovering my sanity I'd bought a packet of cigarettes.

RCG put up admirably with my smoking: "I don't like you smoking, but I still love you."

I stopped again on Wednesday.