Journal Log I: The Smiling Heathen Buddha

I do not find these 'heathen' inclinations at all beside the Buddha Dharma that I have injected into my veins throughout my spiritual and living development towards a decent worthwhile human creature. 


Recently I have found myself drawn to something which I cannot explain reasonably or rationally. 
I can say that there is a strong element of raw mythic energy to it. Which. may, be tapped into intuitively.


It is raw, maybe mystic, heathen, mythic, a regal buddha in the bush, who sits as part of the tree that shelters him and vibrates with the energy of the roots through his bottom. Sure it is kundalini + prana + whatever else. 
Notably I notice quite a strong sexual vigour and with the yoga practice I see the need to direct that Swadhistana energy through the shushumna.


More so I see myself moving away from the strict academics. Visions of sacred geometry infest me, ancient mythic elements want to adopt me. A state of primal calm - a vast tranquil ocean, a vast sunset horizon becomes the picture of my mind. 


Images of wizards, yogis, sages and mystics fill a world of spiritual norm, yet there is always a buzz of magical play at hand.




I am indeed still quite an ignorant fool, with selfish desires that ache for satisfaction, yet I also see their transitoriness and therefore give them no ignition. This I equally and ultimately thank to the nembutsu: namu Amita BU.


What are all these visions and audio presences that whisper in me? 
Jung's 'archetypes seem quite close but are still quite personified.
I do not know? Yet very much a karmic unravelling.
They example in strange appeals to watch movies with odd themes or books with subjects of raw nature.
Slowly... quickly i find my world shaping and shifting to this growing interest and 'calling', if you will, to something pre-personified.


I will also take the responsibility of my own mind manifestations, I am foremostly the creator of such visions.
Yet they all seep in on a fog of precious mystery, a "cloud of unknowing", a myst of mind.


I do not simply want to wait in some form of fear of intimacy or intensity, as I am finding, I am allowed to act humbly on my intuition with a proper does of critical humour.


Mmm...
Humm...
Om...
Aum...
A...mita...

old one

the mist
the fog
the woods
the mountains
the clouds
the waters
dust
the soil
the silence
the hum
the heat
the sun
the darkness
the stars
the winds
the glow
the shadows
the frost
the rocks
the roots
the blossoms
the hills
the valley
the lake
the grass
the wilderness
the flame
the ash
space
the womb
the cock
decay
the stink
the moon
the milk
the rain
the storm
the static
the roar
the breath
the mind
the void
the mind
mind
the luminous mind

"Diamond Guts" - DORJE DROLO

I have never had the priviledge of meeting Trungpa Rinpoche in person, I am sure that would not have been entirely possible as I was only born in 1983 whereas he passed on through in 1987.

Nonetheless, I have meet Trungpa Rinpoche in many accompanying disguises, mostly through the remains of his former manifestation, as the Venerable Vajracarya Chögyam Mukpo, the XIth Trungpa Rinpoche; 
and not to mention those few special moments of 'KRAZZY VISDEM' which quite spontaneously made their way into my blood consciousness.


I love this pic. 
I think it is ultimately what 'Existentialism' lacked throughout its development. 
Remembering Camus and the "virgin suicide" here we have something utterly playful and raw. This is not suicide this is diving into the bowels of madness nose first. 
I can tell you now, the jump was not fruitless, with him he took a bag of seeds and used the vile conditions to grow beautiful Shambhala lotuses.


Meet the Sun on your Rising! Ki Ki So So


and for complimentary digestion


Call Home over the Sunset Ocean! Namu Amita Bu