Tag Archives: anasazi

About LaoTze

I like this story about LaoTze

“Patanjali and Lao Tzu came to a stream. Patanjali began to cross the stream by walking on the surface of the water. Lao Tzu stood on the bank and called him to come back.

“What’s the matter?” Patanjali inquired.

“There is no need to cross the stream, because this shore is the [as] other shore.” said Lao Tzu,

That’s the whole emphasis of Lao Tzu: There is no need to go anywhere; the other shore is here. There is no need to do anything. The only need is just to be. Effort is irrelevant because you are already that which you can ever be. Go nowhere. Follow no path. Seek nothing. Because wherever you will go, the very going is missing the point because everything is available here already.”

I’m not trying to challenge the world, it’s always been the same. Conflict happens. Underpinning that and vastly more important is Harmony. Harmoniousness has always been there. Witness the Indian master Tshengregacha’s visit to Zarathustra. They were the roots of the so-called ‘Great Religions’ but what underpins both is Belief in Spirit as One Everlasting Harmonious Being, of which we are part.

There’s a story about a king who thought he was being deceived by his wise man:

“So the king sent a caravan to a great Indian mystic, Tshengregacha, to whom came disciples from all over the world, and with the caravan went the same messengers and the same treasure that he had once sent to Zarathustra.

After many months, the messengers returned from India with the philosopher, but the philosopher said to him, “I am honoured to be your teacher but in frankness must tell you that I come chiefly to your country that I may meet the great Zarathustra.”

Then the king took the golden box containing the grain of wheat and answered, “I asked Zarathustra to teach me. See, this is what he sent me. Here is the teacher who shall teach me the Laws of the universe and the forces of nature. Is this not ridiculous?”

The philosopher looked long at the grain of wheat, and silence fell upon the palace while he meditated. At length he said, “I do not regret my many months of journeying, for now I know that Zarathustra is in truth the great teacher that I have long believed him to be. This tiny grain of wheat can indeed teach us the laws of the universe and the forces of nature, for it contains them in itself right now. You must not keep the grain of wheat in its golden box. You are missing the whole point.

“If you plant this little grain in the earth, where it belongs, in contact with the soil, the rain, the air, the sunshine, and the light of the moon and the stars, then like a universe in itself it will begin to grow bigger and bigger. Likewise you, if you would grow in knowledge and understanding, must leave your artificial life and go where you will be close to all the forces of nature and of the universe, to the sum total of things. Just as inexhaustible sources of energy are ever flowing towards the grain planted in the earth, so will innumerable sources of knowledge open and flow towards you until you become one with nature and the organic universe. If you watch the growth of this seed of grain, you will find that there is an indestructible and mysterious power in it — the power of life. The grain disappears, and in that disappearance there is victory over death.”

“All that you say is true” answered the king, “yet in the end the plant will wither and die and will be dissolved into the earth.”

“But not until it has done an act of creation and has turned itself into hundreds of grains, each like the first. The tiny grain disappeared as it grew into a plant, and you too as you grow must turn yourself into something and someone else. Life always creates more life, truth more abundant truth, the seed more abundant seeds. The only art one needs to know is the art how to die. Then one is reborn. I propose that we journey to Zarathustra himself that he may teach us more of these things.”

Extracts, with thanks from:

http://www.energyenhancement.co.uk/yoga/Osho-Yoga-The-Alpha-and-the-Omega-Vol-7-Discourses-on-the-Yoga-Sutras-of-Patanjali-Chapter-4-Be-A-Seed-Question-1.html

The one about Zarathustra comes from Edmond Bordeaux Szekely’s Book of Asha. http://www.amazon.com/The-Essene-Book-Asha-Journey/dp/0895640082

I found the yogasutra site last night and I thought I were in heaven. I saw a lacewing yesterday it flew past me onto a leaf. They are angels to me bringing messages from my father who died 1993 after he’d introduced me to one about 200 foot up an industrial chimbley.

Ailing & Aliens

Some of my friends are ailing. I near said aliens. Would that be correct? Maybe, if you think we are just passing thru. I sometimes get real bad cramp, say, in my calf at 4am, I just did. I guess am lucky (to be alive, it reminds me I’m alive!).Some of my friends don’t get cramps, they have strokes and heart problems. Yes am lucky. Reading Osho and all of that, they say don’t yearn to do the world, don’t run to get to the other side where the grass isn’t really greener. Just be there, just be. I intend to be myself Now.

I am collating buk(s) from previous books I prepared. No hassle. Keeps me off the streets. Here’s some writings I prepared (+published in my buk The Dull Jodrell, which I may do in a new revised second edition soon…ish) earlier:

dj hopi cava sm

THE DULL JODRELL DUCKS THE ISSUE

dw foto sm

It’s nice lovely coming to chez Duncan Dragonhat because everything comes together.  Despite the blocks of flats, cars and planes it’s a beautiful place, overlooking Kew.  Although you can’t see the gardens you see the trees, hear the crows and witness swan-like ducks fly three abreast over the roofs.  But it’s more than that.  Last night he gave me religion.  Not Duncan.  VAN.  Van the man. Saw him at the Dominion Theatre and it was like a religious experience.  I used to be a Van fanatic.  Now I am just into the music, so to speak.  But last night was such a beautiful experience as Van took us through his repertoire and the audience went ecstatic.

Afterwards we came back for the hot chilli Janet made and I went to sleep from 2.30 till now at 6.30.  It’s light and warm enough to sit undressed and it looks like being a good day.

And Duncan’s little library here, I don’t know where to start, books on everything and all, and he’s read them all (nearly), records galore.  One called Achalay is all original Latin American music – pan pipes, flutes and all, and his books, more ducks fly by, his books are a sight for sore eyes; just the ones I put by to look at – Russell Hoban’s ‘Riddley Walker’, Bukowski poems, Casteneda’s ‘Tales of Power’, the ‘Lunar Effect’ by Arnold Leiber, ‘The White Hotel’ D M Thomas.  There are books about Castenedas, Gurdjieff, Enstein, Krishnamurti, Buddhism.  He’s got Kerouac, Genet, Hesse, Beckett, Alan Watts, Brautigan.  To list them would be futile, so I have.  But suffice it to say I’ve already said it.  A jet plane majestically interrupts my writing.  I don’t mind but it is the sixth one in as many minutes, but in London you forget it, they’re like the bird song.  There, like the bird’s song, the slight blue sky and the mild wind moving the tree tops, and I’d like to tell you all about Duncan but I can’t, because I have, suffice it to say.

The seeds you planted grow and help you when you need it.  ‘Organisms are either in a state of positive or negative receptivity relative to their natural environment’ (Arnold L Lieber).  This quote takes me back to when I wrote about positive and negative aggression, or should I say creative and destructive use of the ‘aggressive aspect’ in all of us.  The ‘natural environment’, Dunc’s got his here, I’ve got mine in the country, so to speak.

He the town mouse,

Me the country mouse.

To begin with we knew not where we were going.  We were kids from the street, like all the rest.  We still are.  But we found the clues.  We followed our Hunches, we saw the light come shining through and it’s shining right on YOU.

Once you begin to tune in more easily, through experience of Effort, through having been there before, you begin to recognise the signs, you look for the signs, the signs of synchronicity begin to aid you.  Everything begins to fit into place.  The most unlikely things occur and become right.  That’s why developing and keeping an open mind is good.  By opening your mind (like a walnut shell pulled apart), you begin to see connections, you begin to cut through the mist that clouds the consciousness.  So; the clouded consciousness clears as your mind opens up to all aspects all around.  My mind opens up as I write this story about the Dull Jodrell.

Duncan is not a Dull Jodrell, nor is he a Shrewd Idiot, but he is a fellow Traveller, he’s with us on the Journey to the East.  He and me are about the same age, we went to the same school, we both went into college and came out.  Twenty years (53 now) we’ve known each other, helped each other, watched each other from afar.  When we get together, by letter, tape, telephone or in person, we talk at length about our various discoveries.  He understands my effort, and he sees the Path I trod.  Now and then he makes observations on my werk, suggests directions, sends books which he thinks will help.

As every creator knows, he can often find somebody to criticise or sympathise, but to find someone who he respects, who can empathize, is elusive.  I found that type of friend in Dunc.  I’ll always remember when I gave him the first part of ‘The Shrewd Idiot’ to ready. We were in the Tate at the time, a William Blake exhibition.  Duncan disappeared.  I found him when I can to leave, in tears of laughter as he read through my manuscript, rolling around the seat in the foyer.  I asked him why the mirth and he said, ‘Because it’s good, so good, it’s so good to us because we know how far you had to come’.  Here are some of his other comments:

a Duncan and the cosmic egg (1)

  ‘I have thought that I spend too much time thinking about how to view reality, which is futile.  As the Zen Buddhists say, “All that is, is”.  This is true, but you must be in a receptive state.  If, by your very nature, you are inquisitive and unsatisfied by the world view our society has trained us in then this ‘Cosmic Egg’ has to be broken and our own personal one needs to be built, otherwise we are in the garden but cannot touch its beauty.  I used to use the concept of a furrowed field, representing tunnel realities.  I strived to build up enough energy to leap onto the next furrow, gain its experience/view point, then leap onto the next, eventually arriving at a point where I’d attained cosmic consciousness and was running on top of all the furrows.

We are like displaced people, trying to get back to our world, we see it fleetingly during our illuminations, which give us energy and faith, but then we are sucked back into accepting this world.’

 dhatdkblu

Namaste Dragonhat, Avatar & Ally,

Love from D. J. O’Dourke.

I’m Larfin at the woild’s great jest.(Shorter version)

The long and the short of it. This is the short version of this blart* for the long version go to:

https://apulhed.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/larfin-at-the-woilds-great-jest/

*What’s a blart? It’s my bl…Art. my blog, my blathering on, my blaggart.

 

I stayed at home all day which gave me time to think, to mend a bolt on a gate, chop some wood, scythe some weeds and wash some dishes, twice, and look at some autumn leaves then notice the new thin crescent moon. I did not go for my regular swim, gym, yoga or ought like it but I forgave myself saying you can mend a bolt and all that stuff.

bolt sm

My blArt don’t get millions, neither thousands* nor hundreds o ‘views’ but tens is quite fine by me. 25 views yesterday and several folk wished me an ‘appy Day on my 64th. *Actually my 97 blArts have had 4352 views (average 45 per post) now in about 13 months! TANKS A BUNCH We do have to make the most of all our days cos we never know when the finger will beckon or as Lennon once put it, ‘we move from one car into another’, as he moved from his bullet riddled old vehicle into his new disguise. Of course I ‘get’ that Buddhist ting about acceptance and letting go but am not really into their idea about not leaving a mark as a result of our endeavour. Shakyamuni (Buddha’s tribal title) left a considerable mark and his influence is impacting on my thoughts 2500 years after he released from his human frame. Of course I would like my traces to be predominantly positive and full of humour, laughing, like Chesterton said, at the world’s great jest. So, here’s a little ting in which I am going to appropriate some more famous folks’ words and after Walt Whitman’s ‘Song of Myself’ I’m calling this, an appropriation* poem:

See my previous blart- https://apulhed.wordpress.com/2014/04/19/i-wanted-to-be-an-artist-but-im-alright-right-now-right-what-is-original-what-is-quality-part-2/

Song To My Self

 

‘Old man, look at my life

I’m a lot like you were’

A song about an old man Neil Young

sang that when I were young

 

back in 197young

forever young

I sang it to myself

screeching just like Neil

 

it sounds different now

no longer I am

wow

forever young,

 

‘Young man, look at my life

I’m a lot like you, how

I wanna live

I wanna give

I kept on searchin for that heart of gold

Now am getting old.

 

I bin done my life

You go do your life

We’re both still searching

For the blArt of gold.’

 

I may be getting …old

Buttam not giving up

Still

Amidst all the dissolution

Creating my contribution

A trail of distribution

With much convolution

 

Leaving a Trace.

DW not playin in Young's band

Neil Young guesting in DW’s band not playing my ‘Song To My Self’

I was scouring the shelves in the Saison Poetry library at Southbank and came across a poet man called John Peck, and I wish for you to see some of Peck’s words in his poem about existence ‘Anasazi, Ancient Enemies’

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/181150

I think Peck is talking about the eternal links that exist throughout all time and all things and maybe the need for mutual care and consideration.

anasazi dancers

Hopi kachinas at Mesa Verda

http://www.cliffdwellingsmuseum.com/anasazi/digging-deeper-into-the-anasazi/major-anasazi-region-and-sites The reference to Anasazis recalls the mysterious people who built those cliff dwellings in Arizona. Peck is harking about how many things are interlocked even though we are unaware of the interconnectedness. He more importantly talks of the mystery of life. ‘One needs to feel the tug of the draft [or waft?] on skin, the drag of process utterly anciently itself… streaming through us, ageless winds’. Here is he referring to the timeless, or eternal, passage of ‘existence’ which goes back to the Big Bang and maybe beyond? And ‘streaming through us, ageless winds’ like neutrinos stream thru you as you sit NOW this minute, time, or rather the process of existence, streams on thru us, we are inextricably linked into EXISTENCE, that and maybe that alone is the miracle. We are here. You are there, wherever you are, some of you who read this are in India, Kazakstan, Japan. We are where we are, we are part of it. Namaste.

Larfin at the woild’s great jest.

A note frae the Big Blogger Bloke about The long and the short of it.

 This is the long version of this blart* for the short version go to:   https://apulhed.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/im-larfin-at-the-woilds-great-jest-shorter-version/

*What’s a blart? It’s my bl…Art. my blog, my blathering on, my blaggart.

bolt sm

 I stayed at home all day which gave me time to think, to mend a bolt on a gate, chop some wood,

log

the logs wat I chops

(by hand, NOT I uses wedges and sledges and well honestly, brute farce)

scythe some weeds and wash some dishes, twice, and look at some autumn leaves then notice the new thin crescent moon. I did not go for my regular swim, gym , yoga or ought like it but I forgave misen saying you can mend a bolt on a gate, chop some wood, scythe some weeds and wash some dishes and all that stuff.

My blArt don’t get millions, neither thousands* nor hundreds o ‘views’ but tens is quite fine by me. 25 views yesterday and several folk wished me an ‘appy Day on my 64th. *Actually my 97 blArts have had 4352 views (average 45 per post) now in about 13 months! TANKS A BUNCH We do have to make the most of all our days cos we never know when the finger will beckon or as Lennon once put it, ‘we move from one car into another’, as he moved from his bullet riddled old vehicle into his new disguise. Of course I ‘get’ that Buddhist ting about acceptance and letting go but am not really into their idea about not leaving a mark as a result of our endeavour. Shakyamuni (Buddha’s tribal title) left a considerable mark and his influence is impacting on my thoughts 2500 years after he released from his human frame. Of course I would like my traces to be predominantly positive and full of humour, laughing, like Chesterton said, at the world’s great jest. So, here’s a little ting in which I am going to appropriate some more famous folks’ words and after Walt Whitman’s ‘Song of Myself’ I’m calling this, an appropriation* poem:

See my previous blart- https://apulhed.wordpress.com/2014/04/19/i-wanted-to-be-an-artist-but-im-alright-right-now-right-what-is-original-what-is-quality-part-2/

Song To My Self

 

‘Old man, look at my life

I’m a lot like you were’

A song about an old man Neil Young

sang that when I were young

 

back in 197young

forever young

I sang it to myself

screeching just like Neil

 

it sounds different now

no longer I am

wow

forever young,

 

‘Young man, look at my life

I’m a lot like you, how

I wanna live

I wanna give

I kept on searchin for that heart of gold

Now am getting old.

 

I bin done my life

You go do your life

We’re both still searching

For the blArt of gold.’

 

I may be getting …old

Buttam not giving up

Still

Amidst all the dissolution

Creating my contribution

A trail of distribution

With much convolution

 

Leaving a Trace.

 DW not playin in Young's band

Neil Young not playing in DW’s band not singing my ‘Song To My Self’.

I was scouring the shelves in the Saison Poetry library at Southbank and came across a poet man called John Peck, (he trained as an analyst at the C.G. Jung Institute),  http://www.lrb.co.uk/v22/n12/clive-wilmer/on-the-turn  and I wish for you to see some of Peck’s words in his poem about existence http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/181150

 

‘Anasazi, Ancient Enemies’

 

in dream or flapping images of the gone

or the soon-to-be-going or the tremblingly poised

that catch like undertow

the foot in tide-rip toeing

 

down the singing or remembered beach

we study populations in the forests,

we hold the paper flat,

mark, note, warn—the dictated

 

prophecies do their work, we do some work—

cut horn from rhinos so they won’t be poached.

but, to go on from there,

one needs to stand in the doorway

 

some evening and feel the air as if it were fire

pulling illusionlessly, letting the draw

of one fact heat its chain

of links, such as, Japan

 

clear-cutting forests in Siberia

where tigers not already harvested

lope their dwindling range,

two hundred as the hinge

 

for their growled arc of existence, bones of the others

ground to powders for old men’s potencies.

One needs to feel the tug

of the draft on skin, the drag

 

of process utterly anciently itself.

Faster, now, the pull is from birth through dwelling through

dissolution, along lines

streaming through us, ageless winds.

© John Peck

 

I think Peck is talking about the eternal links that exist throughout all time and all things and maybe the need for mutual care and consideration. He blasts the killing of rare species to gain bones to be ground down to nebulously aid ‘old men’s potencies’. (Have they not heard of Viagra? It’s cheap as chips compared with the tragedy of making a species extinct.)

anasazi dancers

http://www.cliffdwellingsmuseum.com/anasazi/digging-deeper-into-the-anasazi/major-anasazi-region-and-sites The reference to Anasazis recalls the mysterious people who built those cliff dwellings in Arizona and who probably were the antecedants of the Hopis and Zunis my two favourite peoples of North America. I have been inspired and fascinated since the mid 1970’s by the Hopis and those characters standing on my drawing of the mesa are Hopi Kachinas what I drew too. He refers to the many cultures that have been and gone in the history of planet Earth, many of which we (normally) know little about. But really Peck is harking about how we do not fully understand the significance of many aspects of our existence, how many things are interlocked even though we are unaware of the interconnect. So, RESPECT is the call he is sending out, respect the mysteries. He more importantly talks of the mystery of life. ‘One needs to feel the tug of the draft [or waft?] on skin, the drag of process utterly anciently itself… streaming through us, ageless winds’. Here is he referring to the timeless, or eternal, passage of ‘existence’ which goes back to the Big Bang and maybe beyond? And ‘streaming through us, ageless winds’ like neutrinos stream thru you as you sit NOW this minute, time, or rather the process of existence, streams on thru us, we are inextricably linked into EXISTENCE, that and maybe that alone is the miracle. We are here. You are there, wherever you are, some of you who read this are in India, Kazakstan, Japan. We are where we are, we are part of it. Namaste.