Phoenix

by DJ Sprague

Op. 12   Existential Angst, Karmic Tithes


 In a mirror, stare at what is there long enough and a  mystery will appear..but stare too long without anything said, in  a world that does not favor the self’aware,  the terrible dread will be upon you


 Knowledge is a blessing. Otherwise, one is predisposed to the dreadful mires of existential angst, and troubles of karmic tithes therein. Yet, trouble is a useful distraction, and serves well, the general purpose, which is to satisfy the general need, for once it has been seen, it need not be seen again. It is inevitable though, that it will be seen again..but it is advisable to avoid this, how ever much possible

 We are on the go. We look for any strange, odd, or dire circumstance, not necessarily to forget..which, by itself only borrows time, which I suppose anyone would be grateful for, if it was needed...not necessarily to forget, but to become distracted, to avoid becoming undistracted and subsequently, inevitably, perceive the dread

 If it was possible to forget about it, what need would there be to incarnate at all? The entire production of elements in the universe are made for a purpose, because anyone who thinks an event horizon is just a random event, an accident, another attraction to visit, sooner or later will discover, the increasing difficulty in finding anything random. This is a problem, which is why we have propensities to forget. Forgetfulness is useful. Nevertheless, whether cognified or randomized, whether proactive or reactive..whether any form, fit, or function in nature is an accident or not..makes no difference with regard to our general purpose. Though a chaos generator in one's pocket could be handy, especially when the search for a distraction begins to appear hopeless, such portable black holes from which one cannot escape, surely would serve as one of the greatest diversions of them all! But there are others around that are not so drastic, or desperate

 This is why everyone, even the most disparaged of us, looks upon a child with pleasure. They have not, what makes the rest of us antsy and on the constant go to become distracted. Even for those who are the most miserable failures at this, and no doubt responsible for the darkest deeds in their quest to avoid perceiving what the child does not, they desperately go. Perhaps one may postulate that the darkest deeds are committed by those who have only meager resources to create distractions for themselves..that is, an adult who has profoundly fallen from the grace of a child, one who has become darkly separated, entirely wolf'd without any apparent means to reconnect. They are the greatest at risk to be negatively selected, and suffer the dread

 We are all on the go, in our own way. And the world is ostensibly and insidiously, a deceptive place. Even within some dark morass, one may be desperate, not because of some particular muck, but for that dirge of all perceptions, for which one may covet the darkest mire, or certainly be willing to be covered by it, if there should happen to be nothing else around, to serve as a diversion

 One solid and lasting distraction will do, yet for insurance, many are secreted away, however divided one's attention may be, or diluted one's thinking may be evident, for divided attentions and diluted thoughts serve as excellent diversions. Only the general effect here, is all that is really important. There is a risk, we all know, in permitting only one distraction at a time..serially as it were, for the purposes of a lucid process of thought, from which pass those deadly, empty, conscious interims..a serious price to pay, indeed. Surely, something akin to a tender body's exposure to raw space. It matters not here, whether or not, reason is sound, from step'to'step of logic's thought, if by illogic a suitable diversion can be found

 On the go, the world is an obvious dangerous place within which, one strives for those precious distractions, those bles'sed deflections, or indirections, for which one instinctively seeks. A good profession and a commitment to one's art are two solutions to the general problem. Also..the pleasant company of compassionate loving, or the pleasure of satisfying moderate appetites. My pipe serves occasionally, without too much risk, or a good draught of rich coffee, or the warm gentleness of grooming hands...fine departures in themselves. How ever temporary they may be, we readily take them. Serve me gin!..if there is no other diversion, but gin

 Why do we surprise ourselves, or be surprised at ourselves? Some crazy impulse, a sudden omission of memory that was otherwise so easy to recall a moment before. Some variation of action, causing our path to divert into some welcome, unknown direction. It is simple. It is but another distraction. It is for the sake of diversion. It works

 Or why do we fear to change our ways?..because, why risk it? if it works. Yet, in fact, jumping from a rutted track is one of the most effective methods to become distracted...that is, to have to situate one's self all over again within a new environment. Nevertheless, it is often thought, why risk the dread, the end space, the place of serious angst? No immediate need to, necessarily, but sometimes we have to take a risk for the general purpose, and any compass will do..any altimeter will suit our need. And sooner or later, everyone comes to learn that for any direction, one has the license to take..even for a temporary distraction, we are limited only by ourselves. And if a way becomes too deeply rutted, causing those scary protracted incarnations in which the dread threatens to rear itself, one should always have enough resources in reserve to abandon a rut, and cut a new one, if necessary. And yes..I would say, another rut is better, than the dread. What is there to lose? One rut usually leads to another. Ruts work. So what?..is there to lose

 Sometimes we find an open track, we travel heavily. It may seem well worn. From it, we cannot vary, but down deep, at least for as long as it may last, we are grateful..we are at ease from an uneasy soul. Sooner or later however, from the track we must depart, or maybe, it just mysteriously disappears, depending upon how intuitive or self'lit our life may course, and once again, here we are. The blackness surrounds. We were lazy, unforgivably otiose, and are beginning to get a little antsy'd, then seriously irked..maybe even a little whimp'ring. Anything more distressing, we tend to block out..in general, complaining about one's lack of resources to fill the darkness, and muddle through what is in the middle of it

 But whining or complaining is of no help when a diversion is desperately needed. We see, we smell, we feel for anything that will carry us off, away..hopefully, far away. These carnal portals are given for lack of available imaginative resources. That is why, it is not good to rely upon them indefinitely. Carnal desires can be beaten to death too easily. Yet, one small carnal distraction might work. Might inspire an obsessive idea. Worth a try. Maybe we get lucky. Sweet serendipity! Luck happens...unexpectantly of course, and I am off!..and happily faraway

 But do not hope for this. Actually, to avoid regrets, do not hope for anything. Hope contributes, but it is such a pitifully delicate thing. Hope gives one the tendency to reach for things far and away, and this could be dangerous, especially if the dread is nearly upon us. Like the carnal senses, hoping is too much of an easy thing to do. Plan, prepare, calculate...gradually work up to the long'lasting ones. But this takes humility and fasting, and only love makes one humble and enabled to fast. Love utterly obliterates the dread, for as long as love may last

 Hope is a penny on the ground..but if one has nothing in one's pocket, a penny's worth of distraction may lead to a greater one! It has been written that 'a penny in one's pocket is infinitely more than an empty pocket.' Yet, what a paltry distraction it is!..because from it, a much greater one is very unlikely. More like a little one. Scrounging, grovelling around in the dirt, looking for pennies is a sign that one has lost the better part of their imagination. If hope is all that be, let it be for a greater imagination

 And so it comes to be, in some of us. We could not help it. Love becomes set. We must feel pain, or it is not true, or it must be blue, or hell, for us to tell..or just a plain ol'pain in the ol'backside sacroiliac. Someone might think it be a neurotic thing, an unfortunate tendency for some to be at once, happy and blue, but down deep, we actually envy those who have it...us, straight and true, blithe spirits with no burdens other than the sun on our back, a'trying to penetrate through. Love is a major cause of dysfunction, which is inclined to spin off even more dysfunctions. Just imagine..if there was no dysfunction anywhere, we would be in a serious hurt, like a machine made of frictionless bearings, no wear, no problems, and..no distractions! So take a risk! And if we do not know how...plunge! If it is a belly flop...better than no dive at all

 The greater reality is a steady'state eternal thing. How else can there be anything? and likewise, timeless. This timelessness is the problem. Nothing passing about that. We have to deal with it. Not too much or too little of anything because only in relationship with something, do we have the means to at least temporarily forget. Too much..our senses deaden from saturation. Too little, one is without an effective diversion. This is why, it is advised to avoid cutting short, any great sensation, or beating any pleasure to death..because in that death, nothing is left in reserve, and the dread is espied..invades us, and unsettles us terribly

 I have seen it, and stared at it, I felt its terrible dearth..as though, if something was to awaken in me, if I were to know this something, I would promptly be dashed from existence. Oblivion, I can handle. It is its anticipation that causes serious consternation. I was naive, but if I was not, I might have been shattered. Who knows what might have happened? That is the blessing of innocence. While innocence always has the worst metaphysical experiences, it is able to survive without being permanently hurt by it..as long as there are not too many hurts spaced too close, too often. But even if there were, and the child should acquire a few more articles of clothing to cover its innocence, each serves well, as an effective diversion

 Ignorance works for our general purpose. Sometimes, looking at it, there is an awful curiosity thirst..its queries needing an answer, but I wisely remember. Stick to the facts. Do not venture too far with assumptions. Have patience. Being desperate for answers tempts one to make up their own facts, which eventually causes one to end up in a dark room by themselves, and we know what they will find in there. Learning to live with a mystery is a great asset

 If we want to live for centuries, we better have a great capacity for forgetfulness. We should be able to forget readily, an ability to deep'six it, as it were...that is, in addition to science, have a profound appreciation for nescience. That a grit of knowledge will inspire only one question, is not a disadvantage..but a blessing! Sweet mystery is a blessing! Do not stop with the light! but do not make light, a 'non plus ultra.' 'Non plus ultras' wound the soul. And a wounded soul, we know, seriously handicaps it from avoiding the dread. Causes one to be focused on one's self too long. Look farther, past twilight, search deep into the night, if necessary. Bring light to what needs to be seen. Keep darkly, what does not. 'Knowledge for knowledge sake' is weak, and is not what is at stake here. The ultimate answer, serving better our needs, may be in the form of a question

 There are a great many mysteries from which to select and add a little darkness to old age light. Otherwise, we face those tiny, vacuous moments of impending doom, when we have run out of diversions. If this should become a pattern, one is truly in a crisis. It is a dreadful stress, the kind that, if protracted, tends to assault the liver. Aye!..therein is the method! Whether weak, regular, or great!..if a piece of soul has a place to set foot onto, or fasten a tether to, the boot or tether shall awaken and grow in light...that is, even tradition, simple or ornate, can promise great resources for a diversion

 With earthly heart, we are only limited by our imagination as to what material things one may be fixed upon, or be obsessed by. These certainly prove better than what figments of a fleeting mind could create from what happens immediately around. Focus! Reach for the flash! Make a splash! To have effective diversions, we must make a mark somewhere..be sucked in by our own spinning, a new beginning with each facile belief, however superficial it may be, returning to greet us..such that, by it, we are compelled even more, being ever darkly driven, no matter how deep the mark upon its return, to allow it to make an imprint on our backside where we cannot see. We love it, or at least, appreciate it. Anything that springs out of our darkside, serves

 And once a bit of soul awakens, a great deal more from beyond is in line to incarnate as well. What a great treasure it would be for a bit of soul to live that was otherwise dark..for one to become that deeply self aware, a great resource of diversions is in store! An unending procession of them! For a bit of soul to awaken, a general need is required. This general need is powerful. It has no gender or age. The need is so great that tethers to earthly incarnation are deep, broad'banded, and supernaturally, far fetching. For whether the tether is a passion for beauty, compassion for the helpless, lust for Venus or Adonis..or the inevitable karma brought about by judgment and condemnation, of one divine mind'd projecting upon another...it works. Whether it courses through the flesh, or through the subspace of an idea, or super imposed space between lives..it works

 Only the awakened in life can experience death. Death happens in life..not during any disincarnated state in the after'life..as far as any of us know. To experience death is to experience the most profound upper or downer known, a value of measured consciousness, whether lost or gained, no matter how long or short that measure may be..is still, an effective distraction. Death is always nascent, whether great or small..new eyes perceiving newly, a shift in consciousness..a new point of view, a new plane to explore, or a new global space to feel and move through, unlike before...all amounts to new opportunities to design fresh programs for our general purpose

 Good or bad deeds!...there is no difference. Each serves well our purpose here. As we know, there is karma associated with all deeds whether symbiotic, commensal, or parasitic. Even those who have effected grievous judgments upon another, have created an effective diversion for themselves, having assumed the responsibility for their action in some supernatural mode, indefinitely posed until the responsibility takes, and makes a new passageway appear..perhaps with some diversion mileage there with roadside attractions, and even more distractions like Hades, or tending the fires in a Gehenna ravine..but who would risk experiencing the dread there? One may be born there, but one always goes out from there...not knowingly, to there. Indeed!..even the most desperate, the most un'witting may be saved from the dread in life, however much they may have to face it, in the after'life

 Good deeds also have karma, and a distraction value, a reaction that has carried the aura of its action back to its originator. And its aura compels us to repeat the same action, again and again, for an end we are so grateful for..for more of a good thing here, is invariably better. It works for us. For the good of even a stranger, we would take action, but only as long as that action is recognized, which is usually, always the case. Gratefulness. There is a return for good turns because it is good form to have a savings program for any thing of value. Therefore, it is not necessarily immediate gratefulness that is sought here. Rather, it is to have a lifestyle in a good'deed world where gratefulness seeks us, like enabling blind Luck to see and perhaps think of us. Feels warm to think about it. It is nice

 Many things of the past, visit and distract one in the present, according to its nature. This is limited only by the imagination that executed the original good deed. Bad deeds, especially the particularly offensive ones, effect distractions well enough, but its karmic rebound lacks number and diversity. Diversity is essential. Since the original transgression is invariably executed with imagination lacking, it rebounds in the form of isolation. Isolated, one's imagination, such as it may be, becomes over tasked and extremely stressed in its effort to avoid the terrible dirge of the dread. A good deed banks dollars in diversions. A bad deed banks pennies. This is why good deeds are better than bad ones

 To be compelled, even obsessed, we are relentless, as anyone self'awakened is, or ever has been about seeking diversions for the general purpose. Fun seeking is good. A carnival works. And it shall be again and again, for memory of form is routinely transformed, as it passes incarnate through flesh...or dirge, or some dark foreboding pit! No matter. Oh sweet heaven! The pain for lack of wit! Into a hall of mirrors I have wandered! Only blackness surrounds each, each the same..each, an eternity with only me in them. Without a narcissistic spell, I am doomed! Yet that, not withstanding..how sweet a diversion pending is at hand! Without hesitation, let us smash each and every mirror into tiny bits, making it easier to bear, little portions of dread, eternal isolation, any shard may reflect


REV:  Sept 2017

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