Saturday, August 30, 2008
11:19pm
It’s time for a little clarification. This blog is not intended to be a political blog. I am not a pundit. I am an observer. However, I am fully aware that my observations are filtered through my personal experience. Therefore, I merely invite you into these ramblings that go on in my mind. These posts are not meant in any way to persuade, neither are they intended to be “objective”. I share these thoughts only from the vista of my personal perspective.
Given that, I will also say that I believe there to be a dimension of consciousness that is transpersonal...metaphysical. There is a right way of seeing, and knowing, and understanding what is true. However, the only barometer of this truth is a feeling tone. It’s what I call “knowing beyond doubt.” There are things that we don’t have to be convinced about because we KNOW them. Often times, we don’t know how we know them or why we know them. We just do. There may or may not be empirical evidence that supports this knowingness; and frankly there may appear to be tons of such evidence to the contrary of this knowingness, but yet we KNOW all the same. We may choose to act out of alignment with this knowingness, but what we know to be true remains true. This type of knowingness is beyond ideology, religion or even intellectual capacity. The genius behind this knowingness is encoded in the very vibration of our existence. It occurs at a level far deeper than the cellular; it is more innate than DNA. When we hear this truth, it resonates whether we are conscious or unconscious to its rhapsody.
I am moving into a place in my life where I am only interested in experiencing the resonating vibration of truth. This is not localized truth. It's not MY truth. It's Universal truth! It’s not the type of truth that you “speak to power”. It’s consciousness that understands that “truth IS power.” It's truth that transcends personal stories and the multiplicity of individual and group identities. It's not a respecter of title or position and it knows no opposites or polarities or preceived lines of demarcation. I search for this truth in human experience. My commentary here gives voice to my findings.
I welcome your comments, because I know that as we engage we all become more in tune with this truth.
Let it be easy!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Pre-Blog Writing 3
Friday, August 29, 2008
4:56am
Last night I went to sleep in a different country. No, I had not made some last minute trip across the ocean. Nor did I cross the imaginary lines that separate the United States from its boarder nations to travel deep into Mexico, South America or our neighbor to the north. It was the same bed, in the same building, in the same city where I have slept many nights before; however, last night this country changed. I changed. We all changed.
Last night, the United States of America was stretched, pulled beyond the limits of what she thought was possible for herself. She was made to stare into the mirror and see, in her reflection, the short-sited agreements that she had ascribed to – agreements that constituted her way of life; agreements that played out as her collective personal experience; agreements that had began to dash her hopes, and make her dreams feel out of reach. As she gazed more intently upon what was staring back at her, she recognized a glimmer in her eye that she had long since learned to ignore. Hidden behind years of pain that had rolled into a history of inconsistency and contradiction; wrapped in the delusion that as long as we had great ideals, and occasional experiences with diplomacy abroad and economic success domestically, we could ignore the fact that we have been a country divided along the lines of race and economics since our founding; beyond these potentially crippling realities she noticed the truth about herself. She saw hope.
She began to play songs that affirmed her creativity. She spoke words that recognized her potential. She danced and smiled and cried healing tears.
Last night, Senator Barack Obama accepted the democratic nomination to officially seek the office of President of the United States of America on behalf of that party. He stood in the gap between all that we have been and all that we will become and declared a new day. He was that glimmer, and as he shown we all saw more clearly that we are more than the smallness of our personal identities. We are bigger than war, and poverty, and discrimination. We are more expansive than race, and gender, and sexual orientation. He gave us permission to become free from the terror of fear, and to live unafraid of our greatest yet to be. Barack Hussein Obama stood on the promise that the forefathers of this great nation only understood in part - that the perfection of this union rests solely in WE THE PEOPLE – all of us, and then he invited us to stand with him. So the question becomes what do we stand for? What is the content of our character? What is the quality of our intent?
Think about it – lest in the eagerness of our response we slip back into the lull of individualism and otherness, which may require another 232 years from which to awake.
4:56am
Last night I went to sleep in a different country. No, I had not made some last minute trip across the ocean. Nor did I cross the imaginary lines that separate the United States from its boarder nations to travel deep into Mexico, South America or our neighbor to the north. It was the same bed, in the same building, in the same city where I have slept many nights before; however, last night this country changed. I changed. We all changed.
Last night, the United States of America was stretched, pulled beyond the limits of what she thought was possible for herself. She was made to stare into the mirror and see, in her reflection, the short-sited agreements that she had ascribed to – agreements that constituted her way of life; agreements that played out as her collective personal experience; agreements that had began to dash her hopes, and make her dreams feel out of reach. As she gazed more intently upon what was staring back at her, she recognized a glimmer in her eye that she had long since learned to ignore. Hidden behind years of pain that had rolled into a history of inconsistency and contradiction; wrapped in the delusion that as long as we had great ideals, and occasional experiences with diplomacy abroad and economic success domestically, we could ignore the fact that we have been a country divided along the lines of race and economics since our founding; beyond these potentially crippling realities she noticed the truth about herself. She saw hope.
She began to play songs that affirmed her creativity. She spoke words that recognized her potential. She danced and smiled and cried healing tears.
Last night, Senator Barack Obama accepted the democratic nomination to officially seek the office of President of the United States of America on behalf of that party. He stood in the gap between all that we have been and all that we will become and declared a new day. He was that glimmer, and as he shown we all saw more clearly that we are more than the smallness of our personal identities. We are bigger than war, and poverty, and discrimination. We are more expansive than race, and gender, and sexual orientation. He gave us permission to become free from the terror of fear, and to live unafraid of our greatest yet to be. Barack Hussein Obama stood on the promise that the forefathers of this great nation only understood in part - that the perfection of this union rests solely in WE THE PEOPLE – all of us, and then he invited us to stand with him. So the question becomes what do we stand for? What is the content of our character? What is the quality of our intent?
Think about it – lest in the eagerness of our response we slip back into the lull of individualism and otherness, which may require another 232 years from which to awake.
Pre-Blog Writing 2
Thursday, August 28, 2008
7:14am
I feel the passing of time this morning. It plays like a tightly wound clock which has been set to go off at a precise moment....each minute ticking louder than the previous with anticipation...with a clear intention to shift the history of our collective human experience. Each minute ticks under the weight of many years of knowing that within us lies a greater yet to be, an unfulfilled potential, and today it calls us into new existence.
I can see the threshold. As we move closer to its opening, I hear the thud of history’s doors slamming shut. Thresholds of the past fade away into the illusion of yesterday. They yield to the authority of today – the infinite urgency of now. The threshold is long and wide, and awaits all of humanity to pass through, reminded and renewed, in the consciousness that we are the dream. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
7:14am
I feel the passing of time this morning. It plays like a tightly wound clock which has been set to go off at a precise moment....each minute ticking louder than the previous with anticipation...with a clear intention to shift the history of our collective human experience. Each minute ticks under the weight of many years of knowing that within us lies a greater yet to be, an unfulfilled potential, and today it calls us into new existence.
I can see the threshold. As we move closer to its opening, I hear the thud of history’s doors slamming shut. Thresholds of the past fade away into the illusion of yesterday. They yield to the authority of today – the infinite urgency of now. The threshold is long and wide, and awaits all of humanity to pass through, reminded and renewed, in the consciousness that we are the dream. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
Pre-Blog Writting 1
Monday, August 25, 2008
8:04pm
I hadn’t expected to be so moved. I recognize how historic the goings on are. I acknowledge the vast sentiment of disbelief coupled with profound amazement. I know that a wonderful thing is happening. But I hadn’t expected to be so moved.
The energy began anew on Saturday. I watched as the Democratic presumptive nominee Barak Obama shared with the world his choice for a running mate in Senator Joseph Biden from Delaware. However before then, I had seen countless youtube videos; I had visited http://www.barackobama.com/ multiple times daily; I had yelled with excited and cursed with anger as I took in the drama of the primary season. I even shed a tear or two on the night when he was confirmed as the presumptive nominee…that night when I looked on as a silent observer (a voyeur or sorts), as these older black women (regal, classy, gray-haired women) stared at a television screen, numb and transfixed by the event. They looked almost as if they could scarcely believe their eyes…as if they wanted so desperately to believe, but had lived far too long to give into what could very well have been a mirage. They stared. I stared.
However, something has shifted. What I thought I had known…what I believed I had understood…took a turn over the past few days. You see, yesterday I was schooled by my dear friend and brother, Charles Reese (who tends to school me often) on the historical fact that this coming Thursday, August 28, 2008 marks the 45th anniversary of the day when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. stood before a sea of believers and those laden with curiosity to proclaim a dream, and on that day two score and five years later, Barack Obama will stand before yet another sea of believers (and those laden with curiosity) as a living testament to the infinite potential embedded in a dream.
So today, I watched the opening ceremonies of the Democratic National Committee Convention. As I watched, I noticed that within me a deep emotional tide was welling up. Speaker after speaker surged the wave. It swelled. It was clear in one sense that I was witnessing history, not being made, but unfolding. The significance took my breath away. You see, for most of these 32 years, I have shown up in the world as a little black boy; who grew up in a little black community; who learned piece-mill about a history and a heritage; enslavement; and a struggle for freedom and justice. I grew up a little black boy who knew first hand what can manifest in a life that agrees to lack and limitation. But today, I’m an African-American man who had allowed a belief in the notion that “it’s just the right time” to delude me. My understanding is profoundly different now.
First, I understand that the only thing that is going on here is God! I know beyond doubt that only the Universe governed by a loving, conscious Spirit can align so many variables to orchestrate the wonderment of this symphony. I am conscious that the ancestors are rejoicing, but this consciousness is fully aware that these ancestors I speak of showed up in the world as former slaves and slave-owners alike, and spanned the rainbow of skin tones and ideologies and individual expressions. You see, we all are of one Spirit, and each of us has come by this way to show forth the glory of God; to bring about a most clear understanding of all that is scared and true.
There is great significance in the awareness that through the lenses of the complete story we are able to see all the beauty that lies in this very special moment. By "complete story" I mean: the stolen Africans and those that were bartered by tribal kings and heads of clans in exchange for guns and goods; the rebellious captive and those that quietly endured; the ship’s captain, the crew, the auctioneer, as well as the man (I reckon) who built the block; the field slave, the overseer as well as the house negro; “Massah” and “Miss Jane” as well as “boy” and “gal”; the abolitionist as well as the capitalist… that followed the hounds…that had the scent…and ferociously pursued the return of lost property; the trail of tears, the civil war, the great speech at Gettysburg, and the Juneteenth emancipation; Plessey vs. Furgerson, Jim Crow, poll taxes; Brown vs. the Board; the Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Rights Movement, the Gay Rights Movement, the Farm Workers Movement, the Chicano Movement, and the movement for every other cause or group perceived to be disenfranchised and oppressed by seeming others; oh, and let’s not forget the men in sheets and the gun toting gang-bangers that terrorize our streets as well as those that sit behind antique desks… in oval offices… in white houses… as heads of state. However, if you look with the intention of seeing rightly you will discover, as I have discovered, that this trajectory of human experience is a divine amalgamation which has presented us so perfectly with an immaculate conception.
It is with this consciousness that I beheld history tonight. My body shook with a wellspring of emotion when a wife, who loves her husband, stood atop the heap of our combined story and set the stage for all of humanity to bear witness to what happens when consciousness perceives reality as not being held captive to that only which the eyes can see. Tonight I witnessed a demonstration of faith – the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen – and I have a slight inclination that as the week progresses, our collective faith will be healed.
8:04pm
I hadn’t expected to be so moved. I recognize how historic the goings on are. I acknowledge the vast sentiment of disbelief coupled with profound amazement. I know that a wonderful thing is happening. But I hadn’t expected to be so moved.
The energy began anew on Saturday. I watched as the Democratic presumptive nominee Barak Obama shared with the world his choice for a running mate in Senator Joseph Biden from Delaware. However before then, I had seen countless youtube videos; I had visited http://www.barackobama.com/ multiple times daily; I had yelled with excited and cursed with anger as I took in the drama of the primary season. I even shed a tear or two on the night when he was confirmed as the presumptive nominee…that night when I looked on as a silent observer (a voyeur or sorts), as these older black women (regal, classy, gray-haired women) stared at a television screen, numb and transfixed by the event. They looked almost as if they could scarcely believe their eyes…as if they wanted so desperately to believe, but had lived far too long to give into what could very well have been a mirage. They stared. I stared.
However, something has shifted. What I thought I had known…what I believed I had understood…took a turn over the past few days. You see, yesterday I was schooled by my dear friend and brother, Charles Reese (who tends to school me often) on the historical fact that this coming Thursday, August 28, 2008 marks the 45th anniversary of the day when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. stood before a sea of believers and those laden with curiosity to proclaim a dream, and on that day two score and five years later, Barack Obama will stand before yet another sea of believers (and those laden with curiosity) as a living testament to the infinite potential embedded in a dream.
So today, I watched the opening ceremonies of the Democratic National Committee Convention. As I watched, I noticed that within me a deep emotional tide was welling up. Speaker after speaker surged the wave. It swelled. It was clear in one sense that I was witnessing history, not being made, but unfolding. The significance took my breath away. You see, for most of these 32 years, I have shown up in the world as a little black boy; who grew up in a little black community; who learned piece-mill about a history and a heritage; enslavement; and a struggle for freedom and justice. I grew up a little black boy who knew first hand what can manifest in a life that agrees to lack and limitation. But today, I’m an African-American man who had allowed a belief in the notion that “it’s just the right time” to delude me. My understanding is profoundly different now.
First, I understand that the only thing that is going on here is God! I know beyond doubt that only the Universe governed by a loving, conscious Spirit can align so many variables to orchestrate the wonderment of this symphony. I am conscious that the ancestors are rejoicing, but this consciousness is fully aware that these ancestors I speak of showed up in the world as former slaves and slave-owners alike, and spanned the rainbow of skin tones and ideologies and individual expressions. You see, we all are of one Spirit, and each of us has come by this way to show forth the glory of God; to bring about a most clear understanding of all that is scared and true.
There is great significance in the awareness that through the lenses of the complete story we are able to see all the beauty that lies in this very special moment. By "complete story" I mean: the stolen Africans and those that were bartered by tribal kings and heads of clans in exchange for guns and goods; the rebellious captive and those that quietly endured; the ship’s captain, the crew, the auctioneer, as well as the man (I reckon) who built the block; the field slave, the overseer as well as the house negro; “Massah” and “Miss Jane” as well as “boy” and “gal”; the abolitionist as well as the capitalist… that followed the hounds…that had the scent…and ferociously pursued the return of lost property; the trail of tears, the civil war, the great speech at Gettysburg, and the Juneteenth emancipation; Plessey vs. Furgerson, Jim Crow, poll taxes; Brown vs. the Board; the Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Rights Movement, the Gay Rights Movement, the Farm Workers Movement, the Chicano Movement, and the movement for every other cause or group perceived to be disenfranchised and oppressed by seeming others; oh, and let’s not forget the men in sheets and the gun toting gang-bangers that terrorize our streets as well as those that sit behind antique desks… in oval offices… in white houses… as heads of state. However, if you look with the intention of seeing rightly you will discover, as I have discovered, that this trajectory of human experience is a divine amalgamation which has presented us so perfectly with an immaculate conception.
It is with this consciousness that I beheld history tonight. My body shook with a wellspring of emotion when a wife, who loves her husband, stood atop the heap of our combined story and set the stage for all of humanity to bear witness to what happens when consciousness perceives reality as not being held captive to that only which the eyes can see. Tonight I witnessed a demonstration of faith – the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen – and I have a slight inclination that as the week progresses, our collective faith will be healed.
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