Writing: a meditation to stay in the field




Writing, reflecting and expressing those reflections, keeps my awareness at a high level. It is so easy to spend the majority of our lives sleep-walking, unaware, unable to develop our potential.  It is claimed by experts that the human species has only so far realized 10% of its potential!  Its physical development is at its peak while spiritually most of us are not advancing at all. We remain imprisoned in the synthetic realities we produce using the mechanism of mind; and these we view as actual reality. 

I equate writing with meditation. In the same way that I can close down the visual sense and focus my energy on breathing oxygen which I borrow from the atmosphere, convert for my nourishment, and expel the byproducts which are detrimental of, I allow my fingertips to express what is in my heart in a blank space. Both meditation and writing are a route to get in touch with my true nature and my self-sincerity in a world populated by mask-wearers, heavy with social and political manners, and weighted down by conditioning and negative karma. 




By deciding to create a message using the abstract symbols of writing I clear the bridge of my mind of all the clutter of conditioning, culture and social mores, so that I can walk out into the vast limitless field of the page or internet space.  I can only express my true nature and my sincere view if I write in this way. While writing I always remember that I am a unique peak towering up into the sky and that the valleys around me can echo in response to my message.  Criticism or judgement is not possible because this is my honesty and my unique contribution to the universe. I have no rivals or envy for the writing of others because I write from my unique consciousness, from my particular constellation of energy which there is no single copy of in the universe.




Out in the South Australian desert, Traditional landowners, the most spiritually advanced members of the tribe, are responsible for painting the events of their people on the skin of Planet Earth. These are signs which communicate with the Sky Heroes, their venerated ancestors, in a unique way. If a member of the tribe dies, the Traditional Landowner will create a spiral in the desert floor using a large brush while dancing and singing the songs of the deceased’s totem group, so that their spirit will emerge through its centre. This is a sacred sign exclusively for the benefit of the sacred beings.  

I create using the written word in the same way.  It is a sacred communication which employs all of my consciousness.  Visible signs are visible also in the invisible world, and the two worlds are one as I am one with it.







images courtesy of megapixyl.com



Media Deluge!



If we are sucked into the media vacuum, infiltrated by disturbing images of violence and corruption which become natural to us, then little by little we will not notice anything good, anything filled with light.

If we are only stimulated by death and demise, by materialistic mystery and gore, then how can we be aware of the real universe, the infinity and eternity we are each vital components of? The natural energy in the wild undisturbed places, flowing and pulsing, is the true nature of the planet, and it is our true nature too. These snapshots and effigies of terror we cram into our eyes, block our true nature as well as damaging the planet at many and various levels.

For the majority of us, in our relaxation time away from work and other responsibilities, we willingly fill ourselves with monsters and demons, with the filth and greed of urban life. Hungry ghosts are howling all around us, their suffering intense and, we say, unimaginable. But there is no question of using the imagination to stand in the shoes of others because we ourselves are deeply suffering beneath the veneer of respectability, the fragile semblance of convenience and fulfillment.

We too are howling in the pits of our spirits – a million suicides, thousands of torture methods, starvation and sensory deprivation, hounded and hided. When we have had enough, we flick away the sordid pictures of evil as someone else’s business, the concern of the powers that be. Then we swallow and get on with creating our own brand of it.

In a string of movies, articles and books widely available, even popular, we can find torture, abuse, greed and ignorance on a grand scale; lust and betrayal, and the fertilizing of more and more babies in the name of calming the irrepressible urges.

At each channel change, the mutating of deadly diseases and aliens which target us and fix us as fugitives from our own souls, our true nature, abound. We run in terror, always in the dark depending on fickle torchlight instead of our own light. We are bewildered and manipulated by others.

We are rats in a maze of fear entirely synthesized by the mind, so heavily drugged by our own picture shows that we cannot climb a nearby tree to see the exit.


In just one session of viewing the flashing screen, I am tortured and I torture.

At one moment, the rack stretches me – my victim, until the tendons and ligaments snap. I hold hospital cardiologists at gunpoint because my son will die without a transplant and I am too poor to buy him a heart. I am a politician involved in outsourcing the killing of Moslems in Iraq to mercenaries, paying them billions of dollars to take them out of my hands.

At the next moment, I am a special squad policeman wading through the sewers every night, working through suicides and poisonous snakes, bag-snatchers who sell their merchandise for inflated prices so they can buy their cocaine fixes, the possessed who bite and speak in scrambled tongues, a dead baby found in the gutter and a living baby in the womb of my wife. Human life seems irreversibly doomed. It seems to be a living hell.


The oblivion of orgasms, inebriation and lap dancers are what most people pursue, either openly or in secret. Erotic videos flood the internet which most of us instantly judge and dismiss, and yet we are those egocentric handsome guys masturbating while not losing eye-contact with the camera lens for a second except to see how enormous they have become. And we wait too for their moment of sticky heaven.

We are the circus acts of hard inflamed penises curling and thrusting into mouths and assorted orifices in tandem. We are the insatiable girl who writhes repeatedly on a rod-like penis for the camera, blatant, moaning, putting off the moment of explosion masterfully. We writhe. We are repeatedly renewed. We mistake love for lust, flooding with hormones we are told are healthy. All this, not just the respectable parts, is us. The world we see is an exact reflection of our minds.


Each horror is a bubble constituting the massive wave of imbalance and artificiality. How can we not long for the end of this onslaught, this hell realm? How can we not long to know that our awareness has expanded to blot it all out, the veil of death has been lifted, and that our physical bodies are no longer needed.

That it is the present state of the human race. Only our emptiness and detachment will make it stop. Only letting our positive and undistorted light shine out into the invisible world will balance this visible world.

Our compassion and acceptance is the only subduing influence that we can bring to bear on this media deluge which constantly batters the shores of our true nature.

Featured Image -- 1507


images courtesy of megapixyl.com : licenses at lindenthorp@gmail.com


Your Lands, Stories and Songs


Look into life’s screen but don’t stop to ‘save

Continue looking without desire,

without the need to consume, to own,

looking without death

Navigate‘ life without identifying ‘self

or knowledge of knowledge

Enter‘ without a thought of ‘getting’

or ‘acquiring

holding the mind completely still

a soft slippy organ in wet fingers.

View‘ in feline innocence

each time being the first

beyond and beyond and beyond

using your eyes as the ears they are


images courtesy of megapixyl.com


discovery natural reflection wellbeing

View original post

‘Ecstasy’ or ‘Instasy:’ a word which can liberate




‘Ecstasy.’ This word in English is very beautiful, weighty, elegant.  But like many English words because of extended use across many Englishes, the meaning has changed. The original via Greek and French means ‘standing outside oneself.’

One way to interpret this is that if we stand outside ourselves, we are in ecstasy. How can this be?

The self is constructed and dominated by the Mind, by the intellect.  This constitutes a kind of prison that we agree to be incarcerated in because of deep fear of the unknown; and so we comply with being separated from everything around us.  In fact, we agree to a tyranny of mere interpretations of reality. 




Actually, being in ecstasy gives us a perfect opportunity to stand inside reality for perhaps the first time. Then we are in our true centre inhabiting our true nature and true happiness and freedom are certain!  Ecstasy is stepping beyond the manmade concepts of ‘time’ and ‘space.’ 

I make sure I spend as much time as possible in ecstasy during each moment! This is especially so when I am writing, creating something or held in the tender embrace of sublime music. 

Be ecstatic!  Stand outside yourself as often as you can!






Images courtesy of Megapixl.com: licenses at lindenthorp@gmail.com


Your Lands, Stories and Songs

We humans are connected at all times to nature.

It is our earthly home, our reality,

our never-failing support,

our origin. 

The 5 elements are our elements.

They make our existence as human beings possible.

If we secrete ourselves away under roofs,

in rooms, in air-conditioning,

then we are slowly poisoned and disabled.

The natural world is our unique freedom:

it nourishes and empowers us.

Earth. Air. Wind. Water. Fire. 

Each day make sure you make contact

and get your dose!

Touch the Earth everyday,

even in your dreams,

to find real beauty and balance

and unconditional happiness.

Images courtesy of megapixl.com: all licenses at lindenthorp@gmail.com

View original post

Divine Thread

I briefly lived with a tribe of Australian native people 11 hours by land cruiser south of Ayer’s Rock.  Our group went to help them to move deeper into the scorching interior of Australia in order to return to ‘traditional desert life.’  Their tribal leader, Ninija, had decided that the aging and young of her people should return to their ‘Lands,’ turning away completely form white-fella comforts and handouts.

During this adventure, my view of human life completely changed.  

The settlement we left consisted of primitive prefabricated housing and an air strip.  But not one member of the tribe lived inside the housing. Instead, they used them as a dumping ground for the heaps of material goods donated to them from white-fella do-gooders.  

White Australians have always wanted to ‘civilize’ these desert people, to make them respectable, useful to their average urban ways.

There is no such…

View original post 610 more words

Soul Management: sudden loss!

Your Lands, Stories and Songs

Everything in human life,

except our spirit and love,

is perishable!

But sudden loss can take you

totally by surprise!

silent stillness
A sunset is fabulous while it lasts,

but it soon disappears!

We have to accept that what is

beautiful and unique will one day

vanish from the visual field…………………….

and this is actually liberation….

but we can rejoice that it will never

vanish from the invisible!


images courtesy of megapixyl.com and Mariko Kinoshita:

licences at lindenthorp@gmail.com

View original post