Monthly Archives: January 2012

Interest and Identity and the 41st Codon

We start anew today, January 22nd, somewhat differently today than other days, as the Sun shifted into the 41st codon or hexagram at 7:19am pacific time. The Sun will stay within the 41st hexagram through this Friday, January 27th. Of course, we start anew each day, with each breath, and in each moment, as we are vibration and physical beings alike. In that, there is something unique to recognize about our DNA as genetic beings in physical form, that form and vibration have an essential relationship with what codes it, shapes it or as such, ‘interferes’ with it in some way.

The message or code of atg, which is the unique set of bases or building blocks that make up the start code, is carried by the 41st gate or gene key. Whether encountered from the outside or the inside, it is this start code that initiates a new cycle somewhere within the living vibration of form and innate intelligence. And yet there are so many kind of ‘starts’ and ‘stops’. What is it that perceives that which initiates the new cycle? And what gets in the way of that perception, if anything?

I carry this 41st start codon or initiator as my personality Sun. I’m speculating here, but I may serve unbeknownst to me to initiate a new cycle for those around me simply by sharing space in aura with others. I do know that I’ve often ‘tuned in’ to what is on its way or about to emerge and have too often gotten that seeing mixed up with my identity and personal interest: a very common presumption of the self that everything we perceive has something to do with ‘me’.  In a live satsang with Mooji that I attended via the internet, my attention was pointed to this as he spoke of the role of interest and identity in fueling the suffering of the self.

Similarly, The Genetic Wheel of Samsara is how Richard Rudd titles his discussion on the shadow aspect ~ Fantasy ~ of the 41st gene key. Carrying this gate/gene key in the way I do also has a very specific and deep life lesson for me. I am in the midst, now, of exploring and surrendering to this life labyrinth. I really have very little idea of how…

• • •

Now on January 26th, I see I left this post with a dangling sentence, an open ended phrase anticipating what was to come, perhaps. Anticipation is the gift that emerges out of the shadow of fantasy. Something needs to be open to what is yet to come to perceive what is in emergence. And what was coming for me upon writing this post was another example of how I experience the life process ‘exploring into’ what is coming, even when I am identified with confusion or not seeing clearly.

In other words, life seems to answer my own queries, my wondering towards or into something. Or is it that there is something that perceives what is before that perception, as it exists on the plane of relative consciousness? In the next few days from writing the earlier part of this post, I certainly was shown in a very clear way how Fantasy and it’s link to suffering in my life found an anchor into my matrix many, many years ago.

This post is not about the realization that ensued over the last few days, as I am not called to unfold that here now. I did wish to point to something, however. What I do feel is that there is a weaving in and out of many layers and currents of experience, awareness, and perception, which make up the tapestry or fabric of what might be called writing. I feel satisfaction in the process of writing, but often do not see the end product while writing or even if there is an end product, such that I could take it off my ‘loom’ and place it into a stream of shared consciousness.

I do sense that that role of weaving something of any number of different expressions is a natural role for me. While ‘identity’ and ‘interest in’ are in the mix, these expressions take on a different feel, the colors mixed, the shapes indistinct, the content confusing. I, likely, stay in a fantasy or belief in the self who suffers when I bring my unchecked identities such that the expression is weighed down by interest in the false self.

I have seen, even, how this capacity to feel into what is coming, what is emerging, has gotten tangled in my own notions and attachments of self as I was mentioning earlier, such that Clear Seeing seems to be clouded. Then separation into ‘self and other’ is fueled through identity with self/suffering and interest or stake in that separation becomes what is seen instead.

Yet Clear Seeing is always here/there, nothing can cloud it as it is, It Is All Things. Thus the dance of and the wrestle with self, self-identified and all, is Pure ultimately and can serve as the Teacher just in that truth. The Self holds all and is without conditions. Confusion released within the All is Illumination, fantasy of the self transmuted or released ‘back into’ Self and Self including all Emanates Self.

Here’s to the beginning of a new cycle and All that is held within it.

Pulling up through the skin of Identity

Self other other self wrestling under the veil of separateness and being

An arm emerges articulates and differentiates, but whose is it? And what directs it?

Discerning takes a lot of courage verve audacity and so easy to mis-take con-fuse.

The energy for this roughs its edges out of my skin like air through soapy water

forming misshapen bubbles until they find their integrity then quickly disperse.

This dance muscular innervating shattering to my semblance of what might hold me

falls like a paroxysm of self only to gratefully burst on the ground of consciousness itself.


lo le wandy wandy ~ has na nanda coca do ~ yes na nay nay ~ pos le low

morta toti,  ann de do ~ no why nowhy ~ simply bo show ~ pause le lo

Giving Homage

Surprised and stunned, almost, I am this morning as I contemplate something ‘that happened’ recently. Funny thing this, as everything is happening now simultaneously, the organization of reality, the way the brain and awareness join together to display this view before and all around me, including within me. And yet there is something I’ve so commonly accepted as real, something called the past and the ordering of the past. I stand in pause here in relationship to the nature of this emerging consciousness.

What is memory but a dancing of consciousness related to and organized in a way that somehow feels familiar in that moment? Can it be said that the past is memory? Can it be said that we can access the past, as if to measure something of the now against it? I found myself stepping into that field and recognized a Ticket Taker there, wanting a fee for passage, an agreement that how I remember something is reliable enough to exchange against, as if it were a store house that had every protection against any of the contents changing, diminishing, or perishing, as all tangible things do.

How often have I left something ‘behind’ me thinking, assuming, believing that it would still be there to lean into another time when I might need it again? Such is the nature of the conditioned mind. And isn’t a wonder that we rely so heavily on something that is completely unreliable?

I find I’m drawn to this image of the Ticket Taker. The word ‘ticket’ had some energy for me and I looked it up to find that it came originally from the word etiquette or ‘a list of ceremonial observances of a court’, such that a ticket is a ‘permit’ issued by some body or a set of measures to uphold. I’m intrigued how readily that this ticket taker archetype resonates with the feel of the conditioned mind. It’s as if there is a doorway into the conditioned mind that I could pay my ceremonial observances to in order to get entry or not. Thanks to the Ticket Taker today, I chose to pause and not to appease the court, this particular court of the recent past, leaving what is and what was to simply commingle in their mutual simultaneity.

On the Journey Between Two

Relax. Into this. And this. Relax is something that permeates into an aspect of self and being where there is no longer two. Most of my thinking seems directed by a self, a will that the self identifies as its own and yet      … and yet there is another mind or one who experiences thinking within as the very nature of space receives all things. I have been treading this ground of late, this ground of seeing and seeing and feeling into.

This ground seems pocked by hot spots, surges of energy or activity where there seems to be a discourse and nearly a battle. But the battle only appears to be a battle and is actually an incredible dance of forces merging into themselves, realizing and actualizing the potential within the not-two or between that which appears and that which is without appearance.

To have such definition on this road, the road, in actuality, of space, the misconception so easily made is to give precedence to appearances and their seeming positions and volition. This take on what simply is is often a mis-take. What can seem to be one of the self primarily, the aspect of self that is organized around identifying with, may separate out the one from the two. In effect this separating out is saying ‘I direct this and you direct that’ and in that excluding virtually all the richness of what simply is existing or co-existing, using that word to not exclude the mind’s dualistic nature here, in unconditional space.

For the self that I have so often identified with seems to be one that has a capacity to direct, to parse out, to refuse, to orient to or not, to find difference with, and therefore identify with one thing over another. I sit with the energy of this all now, the energy of it as pure space or of it existing in unconditional space/time. Something else occurs there and then (funny references really, the ‘there’ and the ‘then’) for those very references or reference points drop away or no longer serve anything of truth.

The something else is relax. Back to the first utterance, at least of this blog, and pointing to, relax is in a sense no where to go, nothing to define one thing against another. And this relax may be different from within my view or perspective from another person’s individual consciousness. And even that difference is included here. Such a unique liberation for that self that I have been identifying with so strongly. Self continues on its journey even in the relax. Self doesn’t need to identify with, it just is.

Even the way the writing is happening today seems to have relax in it. Arriving without arriving, in a way. Not making or creating a position, just seeing now as seeing is happening and allowing a writ of that. Even the words that come are fascinating as the arising, in their arising. Writ large of the Relax.