Faced With Mortality
Hollywood, CA
April 28, 2007


Never been too good at meditating in the usual sense.

Though I've practiced meditating for months consistently and traditionally at a time, I still get really annoyed at how slow it is. So I stand up and go to the drum and bass club and dance to give shape to the dark, chaotic timbers and sequences. So I carry the bike down to the street and ride like my Electra was a Harley, just peddling and moving through the air - the wind moves across my face and I am free coasting downhill. Or I pick up the poi and find a natural spot - like my Hollywood rooftop, the edge of the ocean or sometimes at the base of some great mountain - and I spin circles surround me until sacred geometry fortifies my space and I know freedom through repetition inside inside.

Oh, I meditate. But I can't stand sitting still.

But just dancing doesn't meditation make. Meditation is a One resulting of the stacking of odds. Comfortable kicks, a plump sound system, responsive floor, open minds and one killer dj up my chances of being lifted, being educated, being danced. By what? What is dancing me?

These questions is where my meditations have presently brought me.

My practice then, is asking myself say, when I am reading a magazine by candle light in my brewing bath tub, "Who is reading the magazine?" "Who is taking a bath?"

Simply by asking, you are there. Happy to be alive no matter what you look like or remember or think you deserve. Who is typing this text?

To disassociate with identity is to disassociate with death just for one moment. When we don't believe we deserve death, for just one moment, we build the thing that doesn't die. So when we come back from meditation, we can continue living with the faith that some part of us will go on. Through which we maintain our sanity faced with mortality.





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