the mind has been in a kind of tornado state in the last couple of few days. i see these horrific devastation in oklahoma and missouri. i send prayers and blessings. apparently medical records from a hospital are being found in chaotic debris piles sixty miles from where they are filed originally. go figure. it dawns on me that in a bizarre way this is kind of what's going on in me. one wave after another is created because of resistance, lack of understanding and the inability to surrender. i am being struck by each wave. may i be washed clean. let there be breakthrough at the peak of such intense experience. let me recognize the fingerprints of fierce grace. a young boy in missouri, sitting on the bare foundation of what used to be his home, says, we'll rebuild, it'll be better. such shining optimism.
this morning in meditation i watch the swirling funnels of energy hitting me again and again with thoughts, emotions, trying to suck me in. blah blah blah. at the same time i realize i am not caught up in it. it's like i am in deep outer space looking at some inter-planetary kung fu action against the backdrop of the vast, serene cosmos. the theater of action is just a dust particle in the limitless cosmic palace. i realize my inner being has the space and strength to hold all the tornadoes that were, are and will be, and a lot more. i am so awesome. really. while in this state i hear a message from the depths of the inner self. surrender into the present moment, surrender into your own greatness. indeed as long as i can fully plunge into the present moment in a sustained manner my own greatness can shine forth. on a practical level i know what this inner weather is about. i am hitting a snag in organizing the book. this round i am not writing in a sort of free flow, stream of consciousness manner as i did before. this time around it has to be, to a certain point, deliberate and purposeful while preserving the playfulness and spontaneity. i have to bring together two worlds, that of the chinese immortals and humans living here and now. moreover i realize i am not writing literature as i know it. i am really writing, for the lack of a better category, a teaching story. bottom line is the mind has to shift gear. part of me is really in fear, still not letting go of the entrenched writing habits.
afraid that i have set too tall an order. afraid that i can't pull it off. all this and all this have to go. the process is frightening. and yet i know in the end i will see that all this is grace, all this is grace and all this is grace. and so i keep going and staying put in my inner self as mental tornadoes ferociously strike me. i must finish what i have started.