The title above, does not fully explain my purpose.
I am beginning _To begin_again. I have to say _ that I once had a blog called 'Indubitable Paradox'. It was on a blog site called 'Blogstream' , which allegedly had 73,000 bloggers, but there were really only a core group... of possibly 500 bloggers _at best. I will over time develop and find a 'best way' to present the materials... I moved from 'Blogstream', almost a year ago. Every blogger there was given a heads up on the closing of 'Blogstream'. All of us had to move our materials to other sites... and some made an orderly transition and others just disappeared. It was all supposed to collapse... on a certain day- April 30; and I waited until the very last hours to move as much as I could to a WordPress 'docking' blog, which became more like an unheated storage unit...as time went on. Everything on that 'glacialtides' blog is in disorder. I am starting over again, and that's what excites me. I have not written anything new, yet, but, that will come. What is present there is forward to backwards and upside down and all the pictures and music are somewhere else, so, it is not a blog, but, it is kind of a blog; and it will exist_as it is... until I do a bunch of shuffling and build out on this blog, which existed before, but really had no life_ To speak of ... For a very long time_17 comments _ In 6 years. So all credit to the John on this post. I hope that I hear from him again, .... someday. This post_ Is really just comments we made _ This post was reconstructed from a back and forth between John and I. After_ he had written a post on his blog_ 'The White Lodge' John was certainly one of the reasons I became fearless_ For a time By no means was I or am I thinking myself_the best blogger or anything _ Out of the ordinary, ... especially now, but, still... I took it all in. Blogstream was it's own unique place in time. ...and I met on 'Blogstream' _some of the most important people I have ever met. I say that with all humility, because I know there may be questions about what I am attempting to do. At this moment_ this is my best effort _ To recombine... the elements, that I experienced. Below is an exchange between my pseudonym 'trust the rust', and the other blogger_ the one, the only_ John, who went by the pseudonym_ 'John, the Squabbler'.... of 'The White Lodge' Comment stream Begins below.... not important in any real sense, except that once upon a time we believed in the ethereal moments of such exchange. | ||
| Bigger than all the world around us is God. We can be assured that we are in the presence of God. Even when we actively digest the moments in a sense of disdain. We are eating_ what is the food of our life. The breath of the substance, that has our true interlude. Center on_ the narrowness of the great door.
There is alive in our world, a new way of understanding.
What has already been before, is home again_ at this very door. I am unwinding, my friend. I see the life of which, you profess. I understand, and not by mistake_take it all in. You are to me_ my great teacher.
The great teacher- I never had before, because I was not ready.
All love goes to everyone in the room, but there is no secret_ … to the address of this path. I am at the door. This is a real request _ not of the changing_ … of what you have already been. Maybe I should run away. I can’t stretch anymore. Hope!
I am growing by leaps and bounds. Maybe you can’t see that,
but I have grown in my degree of real trust. This address comes off the head of my eternal pen, … and reads across my mind as a tone.
Contentment, not in the end result, but in the sequencing of events.
The banding to the moral bounds of servitude. I am a servant of God’s dear enterprise. I am not a sequester of dim similitude. To step away and take the lesser path is no longer possible.
Strong in my contract to achieve the life of these words.
What resides in deep contrast to not having been___ … is a new residence. The greater rooms of interior space. The walls around the head of the movement. Nature is in prime contrast_ to what, was said.
Without the life of the mind, What?
The spirit of hope for what lies ahead. Encouragement! My life, now bespeaks further growth in me, … and more courage, than I have ever known. The vehicle of this love contrasts with energies of the river’s flow.
It is musical_ without a doubt, and simple,
but it is pure and full of hope. And then the end rolled round, and I said…. I must go to bed, but more than anything. The words, you have written back to me_ over time. Have changed. They have been sacred vessels finding the worth within.
I can last, because finally I have arrived at the simple equation.
Love equals the act. The act is_the action of time taken. In presence. One moment at a time_ in the lineage of now. The pleasing permanence of love allows simplicity and certainty. I am hopeful, that everything I bring is still allowed.
Everytime, I bring what is happening within the heart of me.
As it comes out from the within of this hope to be, I find the new results_ to be and not to be, but they are always just what is happening right now, and when they get their final position they will grow into the purity of not-indifference.
The breath of the not-breath would only suffocate me.
Like you said, the ugliness of the not-culture, Should no-longer_ be said. or spoken.
Somehow, our sequenced births, call,
our hearts to rise Beauty of happiness. Pure morality of hope and heart breaths. Grow to realise the living End.
Bunches of beauty and loveliness on this great Valentine’s day__
To everyone. Trust ////Shine | ||
by trust the rust on Thursday February 14, 2008 @ 2:15 AM
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| Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, TR. You have written a masterpiece here which I have read many times without being able to summon the words to reply. As honored guest co-author of the White Lodge you must by now have learned my limitations as a writer occasionally silence me. I usually resort to joking around in that case – change the subject, you know? But I can’t do that here, in this case. I’m too abashed, as it were, by its content. Remember always: What you write here is at least two-thirds of why everybody else bothers to read this blog. You live here – in the cyber ‘here.’ You have a permanent seat in the Lodge, and it wouldn’t be what it is – whatever it is – without you.
See, I had been struggling with something meaningful to say for so long – but there I said it, just like that.
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by John, the Squabbler on Tuesday February 26, 2008 @ 7:29 AM
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| A Hoot owl melange is a term that means_ disordered order of a suspect nature, but certainly worth review. Unequivocally, I am happy to hear all that you said, and it is in the bank with a memory stamp. I certainly don’t take the position, that my place or chair is on the order of that great a portion, but in the company you keep__I am most happy to have acquired a chair and a view and a frame of reference. I am most happy to participate and hopefully gain experiences, that equal the broad dimensions of this sphere.
In all actuality and with every intention…I must insist that this
is your domain and it receives any and all honorariums,ipso facto, with the greatest of ease. You have made a place for us all…quite unequaled…to my knowledge. I am small fish by any measure, but here I feel the greatness of possibilities and the gentle persuasion of hope. It is your rightful gain…that we acknowledge your quest. Any and all purchase of place and time is done without need. I am certain and ‘matter-of-factly’ forged to remember the place of this point in time,… as a favorite place to be in physical or cyber or just plain old memory.
As for me the world has narrowed to the looking glass world of the lodge, not entirely, but almost completely. Sounds odd….I have not decided to be a writer of the things I write, but I have come to know a free and a safe and a true part of my life’s experience that is coming closer to being___by choosing to be here, when I can.
The real home of this man_ is to know he has been listened to, as a fellow journeyman, who is coming to know the way of being in the Now, as a tool for viewing and saving our world from being extinguished
for a lack of interest. I want and will speak to that, but no more for now. Have to feed our girl and then off to dance. Just wanted to show we have some ‘culture’…ballet movie,’Turning Point’, last night. A late seventies herb ross movie, got eleven academy nominations, It was like the Poseidon Adventure, melodramatic, but dancing superb-o. Jane Austin, the night before,…our girl was not in the room, toobad.
Life is good. Mostly I want to be in the yard or garden. Dan calling,
up at school. gotta run…later gator…TR | ||
by trust the rust on Tuesday February 26, 2008 @ 6:56 PM (del)
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| Whew – thank God it’s you, TR. Despite your explanation – and I cannot find fault with it in any way – I still have absolutely no idea what an hoot owl melange is. I know this is due to my own inadequacies. More importantly, that there is a ballet version of The Poseidon Adventure is very exciting – much better than the ice show.
You will be pleased to know that I am coming out of my funk. Coming out of it with me are Bernie, Bootsie, George and company. Who says a funk band can’t play rock? You know we’re gonna rock and roll this town. We’re gonna rock and roll around. Just watch me dance, watch me dance…
Hmm.
Anyhoo, I haven’t lately felt equal to the challenge of responding intelligently to much that has been said here. I feel like Ozzy coming out of a drink-induced stupor for just long enough to say something unintelligible to the party in progress, a mere figurehead who is only capable of a cameo appearance. It is a personal unraveling of sorts. The big questions have answers no one will like – myself least of all – so I’m thinking if I ignore them they’ll go away. That’s my real life interfering with my creative process, the silly thing. One day to wake up in the Lodge of my dreams – ah, that is my most fervent wish!
It may also be that it’s bloody February. I mean, why do we have to do this every year? There oughtta be a law. Perhaps February will be illegal in the Obama Nation.
Well, all’s well. It always was. Where was I?
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by John, the Squabbler on Tuesday February 26, 2008 @ 7:47 PM
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