The Knot

by , on
Oct 7, 2017
The Knot

The Knot

Have you ever felt like your life was tied in an emotional knot? That if you had to unravel it, you wouldn’t know where to begin?  Every strand is interwoven so intricately that pulling one part to loosen it only tightens it in another.

I’ve spent the last year untangling a life sized knot that has been holding me back in the present. In its intricate threads are anger, resentment, and guilt that have been tightly wound way down to its center since I was in my early teens. I was pretending to be fine all along with a giggle and a smile.  Partying in my teens and 20’s lead to self medicating with alcohol in my 30’s.  Yet, I raised children, provided for my family while my husband was dealing with health issues, and from the outside appeared normal. I was still smiling.

In the midst of pushing away my old issues, I was dealing with new ones.  My husband suffered a back injury which lead to two surgeries, and left him with a debilitating condition that ultimately caused him to lose his job.  With the loss of his job came the loss of our house, bankruptcy, and several moves.  We were stressed, depressed and feeling pretty out of control.  At that time, I wasn’t even trying to untie the knot.  It was firmly in place and as long as I didn’t have to look at it, it didn’t bother me that much.  

When not facing the knot I was able to improve things on the surface.  I secured a good job and worked my way up to a higher paying position. We were able to buy another house and, with support from our family, we got back on our feet.  In spite of this, there was still a seething pain underneath. A clenching tightness.  My past was catching up to me. The knot was woven so tight, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. It was at that point that I turned my attention to it and started to pull at the many strands.

As expected, it was not easy. It required taking a really good look at myself. I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t recognize her. In fact, I began to wonder if I had ever really known her. She was wound in the knot to the point of suffocation. I had to unravel it if I was going to bring her back to life.

At the center of the knot were issues in my past surrounding my father’s mental illness and eventual death when I was in my teens. I learned of my father’s battle with manic depression, or bipolar disorder, when I was 12 or 13. I was confused by the changes in his personality, because he was always jovial and fun to be around. He was a joker who loved to make people laugh.  He was always laughing himself.  He had a big heart. He was the kind of man who even as he struggled to keep his business afloat, would help someone else get on their feet again. He practiced random acts of kindness by going out of his way to buy lunch for homeless people when he came across them. He played the saxophone to old records. He sang silly songs with me and made up games we’d play together. I was his only child and he doted on me.  So, when I found myself forcing him into a vehicle while my mom was trying to drive him to the hospital, it was disorienting and scary.  He wasn’t acting like himself, he didn’t even look like himself. This was the first time I had witnessed him being out of control.  

In the years leading up to his death, it was a constant stream of ups and downs for him. He had outbursts of emotion in public places.  He paced the hallway of our house at night with insomnia. At times he was completely unresponsive.  Instead of having compassion for what he was going through, I was embarrassed and treated him with disrespect. To save face, I went about my life at school acting as if nothing was wrong at home.  I spent a lot of time with friends.  If I didn’t have to be at home, I didn’t have to face the problems there. I acted out with my black clothes and purple hair.  I stole his cigarettes and snuck out at night to meet up with friends and get drunk or high.  All typical teen behavior, except I know it affected him. It hurt him to see me like that, and I didn’t care. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I was doing to him exactly what I felt he was doing to me.  Becoming unrecognizable.

He died suddenly of a heart attack when I was 17. I had managed to have one promising conversation with him prior to this, but in his passing, I was left with guilt that was too painful to fully look at. The first layer of the knot was in place.

From that point on the knot continued to grow.  I was convinced I would be fine and rejected the idea of counseling.  I managed to graduate from college, get married and have a family. I piled on the responsibility as fast as I could, doing all of those heavy life changing things in quick succession.  I was too busy to recognize the pain. When I had free time, my husband and I would go out with friends and drink.  It was the perfect way to ignore the growing knot.  By the time we were going through the financial struggles in my 30’s, the knot was dragging heavily behind me slowing my pace to sluggish limp.

I found myself staring into an abyss. I no longer knew where my life was heading. Nothing was satisfying, not even being with my children, which always kept me going even through the hardest times. The good paying job was unsatisfying and stressful. I had no clear career path.  Writing had always been a way for me to release stress, but I had no energy to focus on it.   Anxiety crept in and I felt like I was losing my grip on reality.  I managed to go through the motions of  work and caring for my children, but I was a shell. I imagined I might have an inkling of what my dad had felt through his battles with depression.  

We had made it through all that struggle, and we were in a good place financially. It was as if that new found stability gave me the foundation to allow myself to fall apart, even just a little. It was in letting myself feel that instability that the knot started to loosen.

I got myself into counseling and brought the knot along with me. It was time to dissect the knot.  The strand that was tightest had to do with the guilt and self loathing I felt from the way I treated my father. I had to forgive myself. From there I needed to accept myself and the choices I had made which brought me to this point.  The choices were not all bad, and finding gratitude in the best parts of my life was a healing process.  Some of those strands were releasing and dissolving through that gratitude and acceptance.

The knot is still there. It still tightens from time to time in those areas that involve self love and taking responsibility for my emotions and how I express them. It is my intention to unravel the knot as best as I can. To keep working at those strands and feeling the release as they dissolve.  It is my hope that in doing that, that I find the lost version of myself who is locked in the middle.  I want to release her and allow her to reach her full potential.  To be the model for my children to do the same. That they may not create their own knots by looking up to mine.   

The Tortured Warrior

by , on
Sep 27, 2017
Tortured Warrior

Not all wars are waged on the physical plane, within the soul of the creative wages a war the seeks to extinguish all hope, love, and beauty. This is the path of the tortured warrior.

When I was younger I was always struck with a profound fascination for tribal cultures. An inherent beauty in exists in their aesthetics that seeks to lure in all those that wish to experience their mysteries.  While the fascination never left directly, the eyes of wonder and mystery that perceived them quickly became dulled by a world that was difficult to understand and substances used to escape.  I had spent much energy feeding the wrong wolf, the wolf of evil, and was consumed by anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

My battle as a tortured warrior began early in life by my own thoughts, actions and doing. The other wolf, the wolf of good, suffered many defeats, injuries and was on the brink of death many times.  However, some divine force kept that wolf alive, nurtured him at his weakest, healed his wounds, mended his bones and fortified his spirit.  This is what allowed me to combat the darkness inside of myself.

It is said that it always seems darkest before the dawn and it was in the abyss that the torch of my soul was ignited from the divine spark. The tortured warrior within was cornered by my own actions, thoughts, and beliefs.  Paraphrasing Sun Tzu in the Art of War, you must leave the enemy a path to retreat otherwise they will fight to the death.  This is where the wolf of evil made its mistake, it sought to exterminate the good that was left within me.

Pressed against the wall, with defeat and death the only option available in the chasm of my mind I was forced to fight.  Spiritually bruised, mentally broken, physically weak, I managed to muster up the courage and the insanity to fight a losing battle for the sake of honor.  The tortured warrior within me let out an inaudible battle cry for its rally and blindly pushed back against insurmountable odds.  The wolf of evil, drunk off of ego and victory was blind to the force that still existed within the shattered spirit of the wolf of good.  Unable to maintain its ground the wolf of evil was slowly pushed back out of the chasm of mind until it rested on an open plain.

The wolf of good no longer stands cornered in the chasm by the wolf of evil, it stands in front of that chasm as a guardian.  The wolf of evil has many options of escape now and as such flees like a rat from a sinking ship.  The tortured warrior within me has healed and stands with the wolf of good.  They nurture and support each other as they are confident the wolf of evil and the evil sorcerer that is its master will return for more battles.

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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

Depth of Character

by , on
Aug 16, 2017
Depth of Character

“Our true depth of character is not often recognized until we must draw on its resources.  If we are constantly aware of our depth of character, rest assured, it is the depth of our ego we are examining.”

Life has a funny way of presenting us with the exact situations we need, albeit our needs usually appear within situations we do not want. Recently, a situation presented itself in my life that stirred up old thoughts and behaviors.  Feeling a false sense of personal development, I decided to reach down into the depths of who I have become.  The speed and ease at which I found a solution should have been forewarning enough to expose the ignorance in my assumption of depth, however, it was not.  The depth of my ego, that tender squishy little jellyfish, that will attempt to sting anything that threatens it is fathomless, stretching off into an inky abyss.  It just so happens that at this time in my life, I was able to see my ego sting myself, as well as someone I care about.

Life will present us with situations that expose a treacherous unknown depth within ourselves but many of us will be too frightened to throw caution to the wind and dive down into the unknown.  We’d rather remain safely in the shallow parts of our personality because we don’t have to face the increasing pressure, the hidden dangers and even more so the almost certain death of who we are now.  However, it is within this depth that lies a buried treasure.  The vastness of this treasure limits us from being able to bring it up all at once and the darkness that shrouds our depth of character can limit our ability to perceive what it is we are actually taking hold of until we return to the surface.

The situation I encountered was in reality no different.  The aftermath of my own reactions generated a hurricane on my horizon,  the once thought stable position I blindly assumed I had established was threatened as a result of my own impulsive reactivity.  Seeing the threat bearing down on me I recognized how limited my choices were.  I could try to hastily put up walls, which would certainly be destroyed by the force of nature I had created,  I could greet the storm head on and surely be cast upon the rocks, or I could dive into the depths of my character to face the unknown.  Diving into the depth of character may seem the most daunting, dangerous and potentially deadly but when you think about it clearly, it is the safest.  The harsh winds, deadly waves and flying debris of remaining on the surface will surely injure us. When diving into the depth of character, we find a calm stillness that is rarely found on the surface.  Will I surface with a new found treasure, I cannot say for certain, however, if I return to the surface alive, is that not a treasure in and of itself.

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The Spiritual Phoenix Podcast Logo is made from images from http://game-icons.net/

Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

Finding Ourselves – Breaking the Wall

by , on
Mar 31, 2017
Finding Ourselves

Finding ourselves in a world intent on making us conform to its standards can be a tricky task.  It seems that for many of us, the only way to be who we are is to build a wall between us and those who won’t or cannot understand us.  The inherent irony of all of this is that we are also unwilling or unable to understand those who do the same to us.  We may fall into the tar pit of judging those who we perceive to be judging us.  I say this from personal experience.

We don’t need no education

Actually, we do.  Not the traditional sense of education but in the sense of compassion, community, life skills, etc.  I have no animosity towards teachers, as they more often than not, only want what is best for their students.  I have an issue with what is mandatory curriculum they are required to teach.  It isn’t that I don’t find some of this information useful but the majority of that knowledge is somewhat useless unless it is tempered with the ability to form a thought rather than regurgitate the required response. Another key ingredient missing from education is respect, self-confidence, how to act as an independent part of a group, how to respectfully disagree and emotional intelligence. We need to be taught the tools for finding ourselves.

We don’t need no thought control

Again, yep, we do. This too is also not in the traditional sense.  We need to learn to control our own thoughts. It has been said, the mind is a cruel master and a beautiful servant. The issue that plagues much of the modern world is the dominance of the ego, the need to irrationally feel superior, the apathy associated with convenience culture, the ignorance of seeing ourselves as separate from the whole of the world, and the blindness of recognizing our relationship to the planet.  We need to control our thoughts and become more conscious of our own actions. One of the reasons for our wall is we are afraid of finding ourselves. We should understand our anger, our hate, our judgment, our sadness are all internal.  We can take back our own power and stop freely giving it to situations.

All and all you’re just another brick in the wall

Yep, you are.  You are basically the biggest brick and the foundation of the wall that keeps you separated from the rest of the world, your joy, and your ultimate potential.  To some that may seem disheartening, frightening, and largely untrue.  Think of this from a structural standpoint and you can realize how powerful and beautiful being your own biggest barrier is.  If you remove the foundation from a wall, the rest of the wall falls over. So when you can remove the things that block you, and isolate you from everything else all of the other barriers topple.

Finding Ourselves Again

Where you are at today is fine, the walls we have all built around ourselves at some point or another did not get built in a day and may not be torn down that quickly either.  They can be dismantled slowly and we can persistently erode the things that separate us from the rest of the world.  It is ok to have your wall up as you rebuild strength, but I suggest slowly make “peep” holes in your wall.  Change your outlooks on situations, other people and yourself on a trial basis.  They say if nothing changes, nothing changes. Make little changes and see if you like the changes.  Growth occurs outside of our comfort zones and diversity is a healthy element for growth as well as for expanding our minds.  We can all find ourselves and then we can create ourselves and find who we are, who we want to be and who we will become.

 

A tool in my wall smashing kit has been

The Positive Head Podcast on Itunes and on Google Play

I’ve received help and support tearing down my wall from

Positive Heads Facebook Group

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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

The Power of Powerlessness

by , on
Feb 20, 2017
The Power of Powerlessness

The Power of powerlessness seems like a counter-intuitive title but it actual is a truth in my experience.   When we attempt to be powerful and believe we can control everything around us we actually prove how powerless we are.  When we admit we are powerless over many situations it allows us to focus our energy on area’s that we do have power over, our internal dialogue and actions.  Focusing on our own internal dialogue and actions is the tip of the iceberg but is a great example o the power of powerlessness.

 

An example to express the power of powerlessness

 

Let’s say there is someone you are attracted to and want to date, but they don’t want to date you. We will look at an example of exerting power and utilizing the power of powerlessness.  These examples come from my personal experience but I would assume many can relate.

 

An attempt to exert power over the situation

So the object of your affection has rejected your initial advancement.  You may now be more committed than ever to impress them.  Let’s say that you put more energy into being more likable, dressing better, trying to be more humorous, etc. for this one specific person.  Let’s say that still doesn’t work because you are powerless over the situation.  If you tried all of these things for one person and it still didn’t get their attention, you may now feel kinda crappy.  Changing yourself for someone has a way of sucking your energy out of you and making you feel like crap.

 

Recoginzing the power of powerlessness

So the object of your affection has rejected your initial advancements.  You realize that you cannot change their attitude towards you but you have recognized that there may be some things you could change inside of you.  You separate your happiness from them, they don’t complete you, you complete yourself.  You realize that if you constantly seek validation outside of yourself you are setting yourself up for misery.  You accept that while they are pretty special, so are you, you can’t change them, while you could chase them, you admit that it would be pointless.

 

Letting the power go

Like many things in life, if you set it free and it comes back it was meant to be.  Power is no different.  When we attempt to exert “power” over situations we actually suppress the power that we actually do have.  When we admit powerlessness over a situation, which the majority of our life would fall under, we are actually able to access the real power in our lives.  The real power is an overbearing dominance, it is the ability to make minute internal changes that manifest into big dramatic changes over time.  When you can recognize the power of powerlessness, you are able to move mountains and chart your own course to the stars.

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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

How to Dance with Disaster

by , on
Feb 15, 2017
How to Dance With Disaster

Let’s face it the majority of life occurs outside of our control.  When things are going well, it can be easy to stay in step with the rhythm of life.  However, certain situations inevitably arise that change up the tempo of our daily lives.  Learning how to dance with disaster is an important skill for living a successful life.

 

The Rhythm of Life

It is obvious that life has many tempo changes, breaks from the action, and even the occasional incident that may leave us on side of the dance floor in crutches.  Learning how to transition into the next “song” in our life is crucial.  While we can’t walk around being doomsayers in the day to day, overwhelming optimism may set us up for a “sprained ankle.”  We have to keep the balance of optimism and reality, which can allow us to prepare ourselves for when the beat inevitably drops.

 

When the Beat Drops

I was always a practitioner of Hippy Dancing, which to me, is failing to wildly to the beat. This can look somewhat offputting when the music behind it suddenly stops and leads some people to assume that I may be a little off of center.  Three options present themselves in this situation, keep dancing wildly, slowly dwindle down or stop abruptly.  Let’s briefly look at each one.

 

Keep Dancing:

Pros – Shows you know how to dance with disaster

Cons – May make it a little difficult to get in sync with “next track” in life

Slowly Dwindle Down:

Pros –  Allows you to transition into the “next track” a little smoother,  which is a key to knowing how to dance with disaster.

Cons – May mean you are worried about not looking foolish

 

Stop Abruptly:

Pros – Saves energy, allows you to rest and catch a breath

Cons – It may look and feel awkward, it may make it difficult to get into the “next track”

 

What is the best transition?

Honestly, if you know how to dance with disaster, you will utilize all three of the previously mentioned options.  Sometimes you gotta dance through the awkward pauses of life.  Other times you have to slow down but keep dancing.  Another instance may require you just stop, take a breather and sit on the sidelines for a few seconds to catch your breath.  Life is a big dance party if you spend too much time worrying how to dance with disaster, you’re going to miss more steps than finding your own rhythm and “hippie dancing” through it.

To Quote 311 from the Song Strangers:

“Now I don’t know you, you don’t know me
But I can show you where’s the beat
And you can do as you feel, as long as you move
Two perfect strangers sharing a groove:

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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

Changing our definition of fun

by , on
Feb 10, 2017
changing our definition of fun

How many people actually know how to have fun anymore?  As we grow and develop we are constantly changing our definition of fun.  However, it seems more and more common that fun isn’t fun anymore.

 

Our earliest concept of fun

I can remember as a kid, that fun consisted of new experiences, new people, and new places.  Fun was something that was created often using the collective imagination of our family, friends and ourselves.  It was pretending we were people we weren’t, in situations we weren’t in, playing board games, watching movies, reading books, seeing our friends, art and other kinds of creativity.

A young adult and teen’s concept of fun

By now we have been scolded, told to grow up, and reject our old definition of fun. We are also told we too young for certain things.  This makes sense later as an adult but I think many kids may find this a paradox, even if they don’t understand the word. We begin to play sports, which can be fun but can also be extremely stressful to many kids.  Many of us this age are also heavy into playing video games, reading odd books, watching odd movies, and listening to odd music.  Some of us even develop our skills in changing our brain chemistry as a sort of fun.  Our fun has begun to become intermeshed with negative elements and stress.  Again time and again will begin changing our definition of fun.

An “adult’s” concept of fun

So our old ways of having fun have now become more intertwined with negative elements and stress.  I don’t say this across the board for everyone but for many people, this is a truth they may not like to admit.  We have fun watching violent movies, we have fun by watching other adults fight on tv, we have fun by watching other people do things we could do, we have fun by “making fun” of others, we have fun by watching sports and demoralizing the opposing teams and their fans.  Some of our other concepts of fun are that same use of drugs and alcohol that has now grown into consuming our lives.  Many of us don’t know how to have fun without having a beer, taking a couple tokes or popping a pill. With “fun” like this, it is obvious to me that we should continue evolving our definition of fun.

A mature concept of fun

I say the following hypothetically because I am by no means mature.  Fun should be following our passions, fun should be being around the people we love, fun should be using our imagination, fun should be creating, fun should be altruism, fun should be learning a new skill, fun should be traveling to new places, fun should be meeting new people, fun should be new experiences fun should be our lives.  Western culture has taught us to work job’s we hate, to buy things we don’t need and to spend whatever is left over after necessities on purchasing fun that rests on the horizon. Thankfully, culturally, we do seem to be changing our definition of fun.

 

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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

The Myth of Legend

by , on
Jan 12, 2017

There was a boy, born into the mysteries, loved by many but he was born with a curse.  He was allergic to many things and spent many days under the supervision of the healers in his land.  Eventually, they had healed him, at least for a time.  Soon after he began to get better, the mysteries did as the mysteries do and saw it fit to take his aunt by her own hand.  The world turned cold after she was gone, and the boy had his first thought of death, it was cold, black and empty like how he felt in his soul.  He had forgotten the mysteries and the mysteries had forgotten him.

Soon, after the world was covered in ice and darkness.  The forces of the fates saw it fit to rip apart his family and the curse he was given manifested again but in a more vicious form.  He started to fade, although he existed and could see the world go on around him, he became transparent.  He found out a cure for his transparency, it was the act of being another, so he created a second skin and lived behind the mask.

The issue with the second skin was that it had a mind of its own and it was too late when the boy realized the skin had grown around him, controlled him and had trapped him.  He tried many potions, herb’s and fungi to try and dissolve its hold. One day, after taking the wrong mixture of herbs he felt like he was dying, he resigned himself to death and had no fear of the cold, black emptiness he had witnessed before.  However, a voice spoke to him, you know the secrets of ancients and many strange symbols flashed before his eyes, he saw the blackness he had witnessed before, but he saw a light being born, and around this light, a planet form, develop life, have civilization, the collapse of the planet and the star burnout.  He then awoke trapped in the same skin and then back to his life in the second skin.

He pondered over what he had experienced for a time and then resumed his quest to remove the second skin.  He hated the second skin, he hated who he had made himself into.  One day he met a goddess, for the mysteries had been reduced and he placed upon the land the living divinities.  This goddess gave him warmth he had forgotten, she healed his wounds, but the second skin was in control, it warped his mind and manifested all sorts of horrors.  The horror was it placed the invisible boy outside and the second skin inside.  Now he had a beast controlling the invisible self he was.  Eventually, his actions caught the attention of the mysteries the boy had abandoned.

The mysteries sent him on a journey, where the skin was removed and he was visible. It was between the highest vibration of reality and the lowest.  During this time the boy was told who he was would return and the earth trembled at his feet.  He was visible again, but the damage had been done, his body lay emaciated, his mind ravaged.  He was sent to the healers of his town and they acknowledged his curse and they saved him the only way they knew how.  Removing the soul he had just found, leaving him the shell again.

He drifted after this, between 3 worlds, but mainly lived in the lowest of realms.  The mysteries found this broken boy, who had grown into the shape of a man and saw fit to again, give him his soul, but they realized they had to do it slowly.  So bit by bit, they poured his soul back into the broken boy, mixed with ambrosia.  They told the healers the boy was not cursed, that he had brought this upon himself and although they told the boy in the man’s frame.  He could not believe for he hadn’t had enough gold and ambrosia.

Eventually, his skin faded and he became invisible again.  Until a regular woman, much to his surprise, saw him.  She saw him, could hear him and would listen to him.  The light and heat of the world returned again. They spent countless hours and bit by bit he came back to life but the foolish boy in the man’s reverted back to the same potions and herbs to try and make himself more visible.  When he succeeded in becoming more visible, the second skin emerged and became more dominant, until one day, the boy in the man’s skin remembered the mysteries and surrendered his life.

He became visible as himself yet again and this time he happened upon a group like him.  They told him, they too had been invisible and controlled by a second skin.  At first all he saw on the invisible skin was scars, wounds, he saw all the pain etched into him, over time, with the help of the group of others, he healed himself, until he reached a point where again the mysteries spoke to him, this time it wasn’t in cryptic riddles it was a direct message.

You see little one, you were never invisible, you were never cursed, you were never broken.  I didn’t let those things you have been through happen by accident, I let them happen because you are stronger than you knew.  You have a purpose, and your purpose lay underneath those layers, that which what I told you was a curse, is a blessing, you know my mysteries or as much as I will allow for now.  Lay down the potions, and the herbs and I will continue to reveal more of my secrets to you and although you may never be written into the books of history you will be great by little actions, your legacy will live on through the love you share, through your ideas and through the ripples your life creates in the world.  Your purpose is to heal and make the invisible visible.  Do you know your name little one?  “I am Legend”

Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

An Ode to Lights

by , on
Jan 11, 2017

To all the lights that have are and yet to come

your birth is from combustion

the polarity of positive or negative

or bioluminescence

sometimes one

sometimes three

you exist in the realm

of forms in all things

when one considers

that we are created from an explosion

that we and all life

are made of star stuff

it illuminates this reality

some will say

better to burn out

than to fade away

however

that is the physical light

the spiritual light

that exists in our essence

does not fade when we

ignite it to the fullest

it transcends time

as that is a human construct

Like Paper Lanterns

that Float into the universal Ocean

of limitless depth and size

light lives on

not in memory

ingrained in the essence

of all that is

when people fade from the physical

when their lives are no longer remembered

we exist in the memory of the mysteries

one that spans all time

we exist in the infinite moment

Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.

The Eyes of Vision

by , on
Jan 9, 2017

The eyes of vision are closed

but to the pupils of the seer

When the eyes of the material

are able to reject reality

as a hallucination

the third eye will open

in this state the eye

searches

in a limitless instant

through infinite cosmos

dimensions and fractals

connected to the continuum

That was, is and will be

The wisdom of the eye awakens

only to find itself

suspended upside down from a branch

of the material world

with the eyes of eons

opening  into the infinitude

of the mysteries

 

 

 

 

Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools.  In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.