May 08, 2011 | | Comments 0

 My dear  old friends,

I don’t know what’s going on either, Sweetie! I have no plans to do anything. I don’t know where all this is going.

It’s all a curious kind of love, that’s for sure. Here’s a poemette from somewhere:

We are born into Time;

 we live in the Timeless.

From this stillness

 of this Unknown Now, we see in this new light:

I am the dancer.

This is the dance,


I am the actor,

this is the play,


 If any of this sounds like our old Teacher might have quoted it, it seems he dined very poorly on the truth, but managed to serve it now and then. And to make a grand living. And I sat at the same table and paid to eat an elegant cold dish.

I projected my needs for someone or something to actually be the truth, onto him. I got both what I paid for and didn’t pay for. And that was an elegant spiritual ego, complete with a life.

That was then. Now, it seems there’s a free wind blowing my life, and I trust the feeling of it more and more. We’ll see where it blows.

Be well, and don’t you two shiver too much in the British fog! I know what that’s like, I live in Berkeley!

Cheers mates!


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