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"A Language is an Old-Growth Forest of the Mind"

Posted on Mar 6th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
Penan-tribesman-525456-sw
Dear Friends,

         I invite you to enjoy one of the most eloquent, insightful and profound talks I have heard in a long time, Wade Davis, a student of indigenous culture:

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/69


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Questions I ask myself

Posted on Mar 16th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
Adorationofthesunakh-en-atonandtella-large
Questions I ask myself
Here on the rim
of dawn's light
perching, perching, perching
into the sun's fresh gaze
revealing the tendrils of existence:

  • How did we come to think that the paper tokens of a bankrupt monetary system were wealth?
  • How do we proceed to rediscover what wealth is?:
    • a neighbor who says hello and storms through our doors with all their kids in tow, eager to climb all over us, to kiss us, to stick their fingers in our noses and invite us to outrageous escapades into unseen worlds?
    • a garden full of food.
    • a neighborhood where there are no police and no need for or invitation to them.
    • a culture that recognizes the uniqueness of individuals and gives them wide berth to pursue their own adventure.
    • bridges with barbecue pits and sleeping platforms under them so that passers-through can feel welcome and bring their stories to the mix.
    • a justice system that rejects the notion of punishment and works toward restitution.
    • absolute property rights including restitution of land rights to people who never sold their land.
    • no taxes
    • no coercion
    • no housing codes
    • no government sequestration and licensure of natural human activities like healing, counseling, cutting hair, etc.
    • no government authority
    • a culture where there are no group rights:  no women's rights, no men's rights, no minority rights:  only individual rights - the right of individuals to own, create, express, share, trade and discover as sovereign individuals in the midst of other sovereigns.
    • a culture where children are taught that authority comes from the heart - and from our heart's capacity and yearning to connect with other hearts.  And that anybody using threat to coerce other human beings into whatever "purpose," "mission," or "good deed" that they think they need to "enforce" their "vision" is simply shunned, ignored, AND given an invitation to be fed and sheltered for a week in Silence in a beautiful, natural place, with access to elders who can show them another way of speaking to others' hearts and working with their own. 
    • a culture where people with authority in their hearts know that obedience destroys true collaboration (co-labor: working together) and co-operation (functioning together).
  • How do we proceed to rediscover what wealth is?:

Art - Adoration of the Sun, by Victor Haddad.
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If you could undo one rule, what would it be?

Posted on Mar 21st, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
This is in Response to the Questions and Reflections for March 19, 2008:

If I could undo one rule it would be that anybody, be it a king, a dictator, a president, a bunch of congressmen, or women, a majority of people gets to rule anybody else.  The idea of individual rights without individual rule is a joke.  When we choose to rule ourselves and honor our right to care for, create, protect, and use our person and our property as we see fit, refusing to be ruled by others in our person and our property, then life changes.  We walk out of submission to any kinds of governmental, religious, or associative protection rackets and back into a sovereignty which invites us to connect deeply and respectfully with others in free association.  No human being is another human being's property and individual rule only extends to our person and property - not other people's person, property, or existence.

And yet to rule others has been central to European and many other cultures.  In Europe, the arrival of Romanized Christianity, the cross, and the sword to slay any who refused to bow to it - and the way of proceeding which belies it still remains, albeit unacknowledged, at the heart of how we proceed today.  Take Obama, Clinton, McCain for example:  each one of them with so-called "visionary" programs which they will fund through the coercion of taxation, thus claiming title to anything that they and their armed thugs can lay hold of, couching tyrranny in lofty-sounding hyperbole.  That these political harlots have replaced the cross with Global Warming, Terror (the most egregious source of terror is the state), Healthcare or whatever other well-dressed idol they've gussied up for the occasion affords me no comfort.  They are no better than a Caesar or a Caligula and far worse, for their politically-camouflaged speech appeals to lofty ideals to hide the millions of human beings who will die, be forced out of their homes, be regulated out of their livelihoods, imprisoned, taxed and humiliated in countless ways thanks to the street-level implementation of their cynical yet alluring-on-the-face proposals.  Each appeals to their gang of fools, hoping to gang press the remainder into their rackets.
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Thick Face Black Heart

Posted on Mar 22nd, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
Blackwolf
                                     Integrity begins with I, Honor Rises Up from Within
 
Real entrepreneurship is a mental and experiential martial art; We redirect challenging forces that confront us and channel these chaotic forces into creative, productive action.
 
Depending on the circumstances,
You should be hard as a diamond,
flexible as a willow,
smooth flowing like water,
or, as empty as space.
 
Move like a beam of light,
Fly like lightning,
Strike like thunder,
Whirl in circles around a stable center.
--MORIHEI UESHIBA
 
An entrepreneur must be flexible.  If one door closes, turn quickly and survey every direction for the very best new opening for productive action. If you encounter a barrier, climb over it, tunnel under it, or tear it down.
 
Life and success abound with paradox.  A rather obscure and ancient tradition in martial arts and Eastern ways of thinking can be described as "Thick Face/Black Heart".  This enigmatic tradition can be traced far back into the culture of China.
 
It is a challenge to understand "the Eastern mind" with our Western mind, so I will explain:
 
A "Thick Face/Black Heart" practitioner moves like a wolf in the deepest, darkest woods.  Such a one is austere, silent, an outsider with a connection to no one, yet with a vital connection to everything.  There is only one species on earth that has been more biologically successful over a long span of history than the wolf; humans. A wolf is attuned to natural law, and thus survives and thrives as an integral part of life. There is always paradox in real truth. The proverbial "lone wolf" is a human myth.  Survival is a collective pursuit. A wolf knows that its survival depends on working within a tight knit, loyal community of allies.
 
Thick Face means that you are strong to the judgments of the outside world.  Your face, your resolve is as firm and set as your strong mind. No amount of doubt, ridicule or attack from the outside world can knock you off of your own internal center of balance. The critics be damned!
 
 A practitioner of Thick Face never has to "save face".  You do not need to be respected, appreciated, admired, understood or even accepted in the normal social construct. You find your honor from within. You draw your self esteem from a deep inner well, not from shallow applause from the crowd. Every great innovator in human history has first been greeted with disdain and ridicule from others.  Outward honor is usually only bestowed long after the entrepreneur or innovator has weathered resistance all the way to their goal.
 
The Eastern concept of Black Heart in this ancient tradition is even more perplexing to the Western mind.
A practitioner of the martial art of Black Heart answers only to his own heart and natural law, not an external moral authority. Social expectation and convention are meaningless to these courageous warriors. To the people around them they may seem aloof, even arrogant. Deep inside however, a deep abiding love directs their action. Such courageous love is far beyond mere displays of kindness.  They know that the word integrity begins with I... it is based on being true to your own heart. 
 
Thick Face/Black Heart practitioners are an enigma, there lives are a paradox.
 
An ancient Zen parable captures the essence of the Thick Face/Black Heart state of mind and way of action;  A group of holy monks lived in the woods near a bustling city. They were ascetics that lived with no money and very little food. They wandered the woods with no permanent home and planted forest gardens.
 
One monk, an odd sort of fellow, smiled and laughed when the other monks were silent, devout and serious. The odd monk played with the animals of the forest and the children at the edge of town.  One sunny day, the odd monk started painting beautiful images of the joyful and exquisite world he experienced around him.  The ascetics reprimanded him for such vane and useless action.  They told him that he should put down his paint brushes to pray and meditate. With a Thick Face attitude, the criticism and disdain of the other monks went unheeded, their stern reprimands slipped out of his mind, like water off of the back of a duck.
 
The monk then wandered into the city and started mixing with common people.  The merchants of the town were amazed at the striking beauty of the paintings that the odd monk carried under his arms.  The merchants purchased the monk's fine paintings, and his pockets jingled with gold coins. The other monks were horrified with their brother's sin. A vow of poverty was central to their faith; now this "Black Hearted" infidel made a mockery of their moral certitude. In the eyes of the other monks, he was now soiled and made unholy by the mundane world of money.
 
The odd monk joyfully continued in his wayward path.  The community of holy monks were ready to permanently expel this infidel from their life, when a great drought set in on the land and persisted through the entire growing season. Their small patches of corn withered in the sun. Their potatoes dried to dust in the soil.  A great famine ravaged the country. 
 
The odd monk went into town. He emptied his pockets of gold on the tables of the merchants that had purchased his paintings so long ago.  They loaded a cart with bread, vegetables, milk and butter. The monk took his full larder back to the dying monks. He fed them all. He nursed them all back to full health and vitality.  He saved their lives.
 
The Black Heart of such a wayward monk or wandering warrior is only black to the outside view of small minded moralists. Inside, their heart is wrought of pure gold, tempered by life's fire.
 
Jesus was a courageous warrior, a practitioner of "Thick Face/Black Heart".   He had no concern about how the Pharissees, the moral authorities of his day viewed him.  He answered to a higher, deeper power deep within his own soul. Jesus stated that he was "no respecter of persons".  He commonly broke the moral code and local law. His daily companions were the rejected, the ruffians, the prostitutes and sinners. The holy Pharisees considered this rebel, this heretic Jesus as their very nemesis, one to criticize and then crucify.
 
Contemporary examples of Thick Face/Black Heart warriors are Ghandi and Martin Luther King.  They were both met with public disdain, but followed their own drummer on to their destiny. They both had flaws, but they took action in spite of any personal limitations.  Steven Spielberg brought us a profound story of such a one;  At first glance, Oscar Shindler appears amoral; a womanizer, a manipulator, a war profiteer.  Shindler is then revealed as the courageous channel of salvation that delivers concentration camp victims from the gaping jaws of death.  Shindler is a paradoxical savior.
 
We are all incomplete and flawed alone. That has always been the human condition. Courage is taking action in spite of fear. Honor is found by taking action even when we are imperfect.  All heroic of the civilization shifting acts in History have been carried out by imperfect people. If we "wait until we are perfect" to enter into heroic action, then we will wait out our entire life on the sidelines.  We find wholeness in group action, where the strengths of one overcome the shortcomings of another.  As long as love guides any human enterprise, we head toward a more advanced human civilization.
 
                                   ---Michael Richards

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The essay above is an excerpt from;

 

        "Light One Candle,  The Handbook for Bootstrapping Entrepreneurs"

                                (available at Amazon.com

Michael Richards, author, published by Innovation Press in 1998

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What does sustainability mean for you?

Posted on Mar 25th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
This is in Response to the Questions and Reflections for March 25, 2008:

Sustainable, to me, means that which is willing to surrender form to nourish those forms which have sustained it.  It is to recognize that continuity and contiguity are no respecters of persons, yet individuals can illuminate their paths and those of others with bright flashes of luminous extravagance, wisdom, calm, fierceness & purpose.  Once we, as descendants of marauding tribes dispossessed of ancestral vocabulary and connectivity rediscover, reframe, remold a vocabulary and connectivity of our own making, then the possibility of Hyperindividuated Retribalization reappears. 

Then I realize that there are no white people, black people, human beings, polar bears, glaciers, flowers - there is only Being and it is infinitely diverse and shimmering throughout the whole of it.  It invites me to commune with it in its particularities which are extinguished as soon as I label it. In the same way, I am invited to commune with my no-self, i.e. to liberate myself from all imaginings of "self" and discover who this is that is now arising from a night's slumber, peeing in the pot, plucking out yesterday's leavings between my teeth with floss, beholding the birds come to feast upon my sill.   I realize that I am sustained, that the nuclear warheads in their underground shafts are sustained, that the last speaker of an indigenous language, wisdom lineage, or storyteller tumbling to her grave is also sustained. 

And then I am called to examine what It Is that is Sustain Able.  What is able to sustain itself?  And whereas, perhaps, the English word "sustain" might suggest permanence, I look at Being and, looking closely, behold a world that is never the same and makes no investment in our fantasies of continuity, quite the contrary, it delights in devouring form.

And so, as I behold this Bright Shimmering, this Apparition which beholds me in turn in the unitive enchantment of the Inescapable Female, pulling me with that tug of delight, eros, and uncertainty that drops, as if down my esophagus to the pit of my stomach, resting with weighty emptiness upon my pelvis, upon my balls -

            - and I know that as surely as I was delivered from watery, female rhythmicity into the bop and shimmer of this watery world, so, too, this world shall yet deliver that which inhabits it to another. 

This is sustainability, though her Form nourishes all things and we bask in the rhythm of her sensuality, to attempt to grasp it, the very attempt to "SAVE" which lies at the heart of the Romanized Christian paradigm is precisely that which undoes our connection to this rhythmicity.  And this undoing, this disconnectedness, and all of our wondrous shenanigans, wars, festivals, meditations and terrors are like gas bubbles in the colon of Beingness.

What are you willing to feed?  Be prepared to be devoured by Everything!

Life has no remedies, only feasts!
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Cutting the marbles LOOSE!

Posted on Mar 27th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
Blue_marble_earth_planet
I just came across a great little mojotonic on Victoria's blog.  Check this out!:   http://victoria-is.gaia.com/blog/2008/3/losing_my_marbles#comments



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A Land Where All of Life is Welcome!

Posted on Mar 27th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O

Let me say something strange to you: you are hidden to me just as we are hidden to ourselves, our breasts all bound up, offering no soft place for a ferret to nuzzle up to you, for a beaver to munch on willow branches,

Do you smell? 

Do you have a smell?  Do you have a sense of smell?  CAN you smell?  Still?

And what's with that smell, of chemically-burnt skin reeking of caustic soap covered over with industrial perfumes?  and no smell to the groins!  two or three showers a day!   Beautiful luscious, succulent women, and one unwraps them in the Feast of male and female only to discover someone who, like a ghost, has no smell! Crotches, armpits and asses that smell, as close as human flesh can get, like linoleum gone over with “Spring Fresh” bleach, or something.   Is this why some of you call yourselves "goddesses:"  free of smells, floating above earth, reading books to discover femininity, disembodied somehow - no smell, no taste, no sex, only gestures from aloft, no raucous forests pungent and thick with life, all theory, no praxis?   Is this what sends American men (and women) off to murder and to fund murder?  What happened?  I don't understand it!

And I moved from Boulder back to the barrio  where I can go out my door and have a taco and be in the presence of women:  skinny ones, fat ones, old ones, young ones, cunning and knowing middle-aged ones still riding their charms before the wrinkles engulf them into wizened and irrefutable knowingness.  ¡Mamasitas!  

And the Boulderites in their 4000 square foot multi-million zero-carbon-charade solar mega-palaces for two people reeking of Buddhism and Wilber, loving shit-hook socialist thug dictators like Chávez and Castro and such from afar, living their f*cking "revolution" in profligate imperial splendor while munching on cellophane organics, ask me why it is that I always go back to the hood.  but it ain't the hood for me:  it's the feminine!  In Boulder the women walk around like football players and tell guys how they're into "goddess" energy.  In the barrio the women walk and everybody knows who they are from 50 yards away!  And we keep our mouths shut until the tension of that inspiration births offerings of praise and wonder that our thoughts could never hatch.  Women who make every man a poet, or wish he were.  Women who birth art in our hearts, and song, and extravagant heroics, joy, laughter and tears.

Succubopalishnabukushukutonifying full-on femininity whose brows alert the sideways
sashay of the subtle micro-BOOM! of hips to life in that Grand Curve that invites us all to lean and careen at full throttle and REJOICE in the FEMALE!  I simply love the grandeur and grace of a femininity that never has to tell anybody that she's a goddess because she's so much better!: 

She's FULL-ON FINE in a million shapes and sizes!

What about the SEX of you? of us?  of I?

That place between our legs that lets birds and wolves and each other know how vital we are, how akin, how free, how hungry or how ready for deliverance back to the Feast?

You know: Vaginas!  Penises!  Testicles!:  they're made to BREATHE!  These are our BODIES, for Christ's sake, and just like armpits and every other part of our anatomy, open, close, in, out, give, receive...

No breasts, no sex, no smell, all bound up, following rules, trying to be good girls and boys, thinking nice thoughts,  eager to save a world we have little real contact with, moving like antispeptic mummies.

Who are we to each other?  What is the smallness we would have each other squeeze into for that slight recompense of being called "lover, friend, brother, sister, father, mother, son, daughter, teacher, savior"?   Kind of like pushing Jesus through the bloody nail holes in his hands.  Did they ever just have him over for lunch, or soccer, or passionate love-making, a good ole horse-fucking while hubby was out in the bushes chasing sheep, or getting drunk on a riverside and talking about the girls, and God, and our favorite tools for carpentry?  Did they ever?  Will we ever.  And, hey, if you can't find Jesus, invite Jesús over from the barrio and you'll find him, and love, and friendship, and that even scrawny trees suffice to spend an afternoon together in the shade...  Summer's near.  Say "hi"  to someone who looks like he belongs on this continent.  Have Jesús over for a beer.

How can I invite all of you over, ALL of you, you know, the earthling, the one a Lion could know as friend, naturally, silently, intimately, knowing the smell of you, the vibration of you, the heart beat of you, the softnesses of you?


Nature moves....
                                I watch it....
                                                             so that I can recognize THIS self

She has a smell just like I do:

                    It is the smell of life...
                                           I smell it....
                                                             and I smell This self that nature knows and moves with...
                                          
                                                   without remedies....

                                                                                         without theories....

                                                                                                                         without postures....

Tasting life....

                                            taste....
                                                            taste....

                                                                          Life is for the Tasting...

Life is for the Feast!

And then I relax with all my frickin' salvation theories, daring to laugh, daring to see how as long as we continue in these cultures that prohibit the generative parts of our anatomy to have contact with the generative nourishment of the Sun, our bold theories, plans and programs are horseshit anyways.

It's time to Taste.  It's time to Smell.  It's time to Feast upon the invitation that we are, and learn to do less, to take multi-day naps in strange places, walk without clothes until we truly relish those clothes as well, sleep upon each other's bellies...

wake with the wind...

it's that time for me...

what time is it for you?

© Little Big O 2008
                                             
Ashes and Snow- Feather to Fire


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How can you be the change that you want to see in the world?

Posted on Mar 28th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
This is in Response to the Questions and Reflections for March 28, 2008:

By making sure I'm having outrageous fun on a regular basis, getting up to mischief with my favorite people - and getting sunshine on my nuts as often as possible!  Easy!  But not that easy!

Realize that you already ARE the change in the world and that the world laughs at the changes you'd like to make in it - and it's nothing personal. But what about being the change you want to see in YOUR life? What is it that you want to change? What's the feeling that motivates that desire? Will that feeling make it real? What do you need? Who will you invite? How will that invitation speak to what you and they really desire, what will make it delicious and fun for all parties concerned?
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Lucero de la mañana

Posted on Mar 29th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O
Estrellitas Y Duendes


Tú,
viajando como un astro,
regando los seres que te ven y te reciben,
con chispas de estrellita amorosas,
eres la inspiración
de sembranza y de cosecha,
el ritmo de la fiesta,
la esperanza del que duerme,
soñando con despertarse,
con brillantez amorosa,
aunque el cielo este todo negro,
y vagar por  los encantos
de tus mejillas, tus pupilas y tus mares


Solo Quiero que me des ¡Solución!  (¡Yeah, Baby!):
aquí están las letras de "La Llave de Mi Corazón"
Juan Luis Guerra "La Llave De Mi Corazon" Music Video


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Just what I needed to hear: "Mi'ijo, where you been?"

Posted on Mar 30th, 2008 by Little Big O : Luminous Mischieviousness Little Big O

The people that I have known that KNEW didn’t have to say much of anything (although sometimes they'd go off on some fiercesome tales and tirades):  they just had smiles that had room for the totality of my humanity and I knew they knew. 

 I wish us the presence of those smiles: ours.  That it doesn't have to all be about what and who we think we are and know.  We can also try this on for size, and say hello again - inside:

 Innocence.  

(like maybe even only for 3 seconds, no big commitments, no self-improvement, just curiosity: long enough to see if who’s still rumbling inside of us eager for our friendship; like saying howdy, gently, smilingly... It's kind of like my old friend doña Amalia:  I thought she was pissed at me for years.  When I finally called her she said to me "Mi'ijo, where you been?  I've been thinking and worrying about you all these years like all my other children and I'm so glad you called!"  Innocence is like that, even better, and we don't have to abandon ourselves to old age and wrinkles before we remember that it took the energy of a star gone supernova to create the elements and the spinningness that we are.  That energy is the energy of discovering, not of "knowing" who we are. 


We can court our own joy and innocence - even roguishly!)

              ;  )

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