ORIGIN OF UNIVERSE: EILEEN

 Meigra and I were sitting outside at a breakfast cafe in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was an early Sunday morning when the restaurant was busy outside and inside on this warm sunny day.   As we sat quietly, a woman, the owner, came over to our table, stopped and paused, simply staring at us.  Her eyes were riveting, a light yellow coloring around the pupils.

 "I recognize who you both are," she said, then sat down, even though a line of customers waited.  My linear logical mind was suspended automatically. I had no questions.  "I am going to sell my restaurant," she said quietly, "and go to Mexico this summer for three months to discover the origin of the universe.  I want you both to come with me."

Without thought or question, we both said, "yes."  "My name is Eileen," she said, then got up and went back to waiting tables with the morning breakfast crowd, all people she seemed to know.   

 The following week, I drove down to Santa Fe from Taos, and walked along the river with Eileen as she told me of her young daughter, and repeated her intention to find the origin of the universe.  She said she had been the owner of the restaurant for nine years, and it would "sell it next week."

 One week later, I returned to the restaurant to visit with Eileen, and talk of Mexico.  It had been sold and no one knew where Eileen was. They had not seen her in a week, and they too, wondered  where she might be.  I found her apartment, yet no one had seen her. 

Although expecting to, we did not go to Mexico to find the origin of the universe.  The mystery trip did not happen.  Several years later, I awoke one morning knowing what that was all about. I realized that whomever Eileen was, where she had come from, or where she had gone, I did not need to know.  Instead, I found myself unexpectedly noticing and discovering the origin of my daily thoughts, my judgments of others, and seamlessly opening to an awareness of an endless universe that, if it had an origin, I didn't need to know it.  I even wondered about how there could be an origin to anything?  What would be before the orgin? 

PHANTOM HEARTS

We are learning to not know, to believe that the world works without making it work, controlling it, or making any sense whatsoever.  In the last three days. three people have come into my life via email, phone and in person,  that were right on the edge. 

Our job, as people, is to listen.  Simply listen with all of "our selves".  Not the words, just
the listening and being there and being part of the other.   I too, do not know what I am doing, or what is next or if there is a next.  Carlos Castaneda, at a training in Mexico City, some years ago, started the session with of 1500 people  with the words: "For the next four days, suspend your need for anything to make sense, be logical or in any way, linear."

There is an energy that is specific and felt, separate from defining, or talking about jobs, being in Los Angeles with eight million people and finding love and kindness everywhere, as well as jack knifed trucks on freeways causing traffic to back up seven miles for hours. 
We keep showing up, you and I, finding ourselves a bit more each week. 

We are stepping back from old beliefs we did not know we carried and carried us.  We disrupt the world around us, disturb others, yet all we are doing, is listening to our sometmes phantom hearts. 

THE ELDER: OUR ORIGINAL SELF

Is there something beyond the everyday world?  Beyond the universe?  Beyond everyday newscasts and wars?  Beyond how we have been taught to live our lives, raise children, believe only certain ways?

Is the everyday world the only one that is real and to be lived?  Are all religions and beliefs true, or does it matter whether something is true or not.  Do I need to be right, ever?  What if it does not matter to me whether I am right or not?  Or you are right or not?  I mean, what if I step out of that room where everyone takes a position, stands by a belief, insisting that I see and believe the same thing?

What if it doesn't matter to me to be right or wrong, or neither?  I wonder about the beliefs and expectations that I carry, that often separate me from others, creating an endless circle of continued dialogue.

My son told me, at the age of eight, "There is no such thing as time." He wasn't giving me a lesson, he just said it as he walked beside me throwing pebbles into the lake.  I didn't question him.  I just took it in.  He and other children, over the years, have said things that require I suspend my linear mind, my need to have anything make sense or be logical.  Actually, I consciously decided, a few years ago, to access my original self before I went to school and learned to be someone else. 

My original self, the one writing this, no longer needs to have anything make sense.  Instead, I have discovered the "elder" within me.  The "elder"  is a part of me, and always has been, that just knows things without having to seek approval or confirmation from others. 

The elder transcends age.  She or he is not about age, nor life experience, not even educational experiences.  The "elder" is more about instinct, intuition, not having to be right or wrong, and simply knows stuff, more like a Shaman or medicine woman, at least my perception of shamans and medicine people.  

The elder sees the truth of things, just like little children sense who is present and real, and who is being nice and appropriate.  Children see the truth of things, always, yet words tend to minimize what is sensed and felt.  The elder part of us all, I believe, is connected to all other elder parts around the world. 

My son came to me in a dream prior to his birth and simply said,"I don't need you to be with me.  I need you to be with yourself. When you are with yourself, you are with me."  He could have signed off in the dream with "the elder."  Elders don't need to

INVISIBLE TREE

Being here in Los Angeles is a chance to practice meditation all the time, 24 hours, especially on the freeways where trillions of cars all congregate to go back and forth, at high speeds, heading in all directions, including through each other, and sometimes traveling on their rooftops, passed by high speed motorcycles creating their own lanes, zipping past only to sacrifice one of their own daily on some freeway, somewhere, not slowing down for death, or injury, or even concrete walls.

So i am transcending my frustration on these roads of glory for meditation practice, flexibility and trust in some higher being, even higher than myself if I must have a hierarchy of beings.  Today, driving down a four-lane mountain road, my son in the passenger seat, coming around a curve with a truck on one side of me, blocking any exit in that direction, a fallen tree suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking my lane, leaving me no way, I thought, to escape accident, broken bones and a crunched car.  

I could not avoid the tree without turning directly into the truck to my left and crashing.  As in the movies, I must have transcended earthly rules, and driven through the tree, huge trunk and all.  I did not hit the truck, did not change lanes, and I have no earthly, logical explanation, except we must have gone "through" the tree like an invisible wall from Matrix. A gap in time, A breath taking event that has no explanation and simply left us both in a sense wonder. "That is not possible," my logical, linear, make sense, mind told me,  But we did.  My son and I looked at each other with no words, continuing down the road in silence.