the fulfilment of 'Acorn's Destiny'.

(destiny of acorn’s destiny part IV)

On Sunday, 16 September 2012 15:57 Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

'Acorn's Destiny' (the completed version) Sept. 2012.

(Featured here, large, as i'm pleased with it's quantum leap.)

(see parts I - III of destiny of acorn’s destiny :
acorn’s destiny - a pre view - part I
tracing acorn’s destiny - part II
trowel tips and Gaian-root instinct twitches - part III)

art : martin law
acorn’s destiny, august 2012
oak in February, november 2010; an oak in winter, january 2011

artwork :
digital pan play oak collage sequence, SEP 12 - wfp for moo

Smokewriting

Smokewriting

'e-male to a female'

On 13 September 2012 05:12, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

~~~ a drift away title, seeming to morph into...a name...

dear Penangellope,
wholistically drifting aloft trailing a name... (no 'L' -), a cryptic phonetic insider code of synthetic smokewriting none outside will see, since few ever memorize cloudshapes accurately let alone chemtrails, besides, beings being sufficiently initiatory in reading and writing in smoke.  And who's to say the pen is mightier than the antelope anyway?
Which on closer inspection translates (to the long sighted) as, you did a wonderful job, word perfect, so to speak, on the editing, auditing, and posting of my piece on The Cork Food Web [this external site down at the time of going to cyber, see note in sidebar - ed.] for which i am roundly thankful. I am pleasantly surprised (a good way to be) at the clarity of the oak trees, that is, your skilled cyber morphing of my crap camera shot showing a glimpse into the primary first layer of raw umber acrylic wash of the work in progress culminating in subsequent similar stages to become the fulfilment of 'Acorn's Destiny'.

"And the auld triangle goes jingle jangle" *1
Need i add, my bark is worse than my bite, considering my orthodontic circumstance?  No maybe not.
And, ("never begin a sentence with 'and'") but, needless to say, though i say so my 'self', i have, i won't say 'been', leaning jaw on palm to elbow to knee? with pensive ponderment poking the fire in the grate as to what might i write next (not that there ever is a 'next' anything anywhere to be spoken of).  And living is never led by the laws of language let alone logic so we'll leave that alone.  And what was it that Willy B. Yeats said, was it, in Raglan Road about a secret code known only to the artists, that we know well we're not fooled at all by alphabet soup, it being another american export to brainwash babes before they've even got their school books in the bag if muesli be the feud of love spell on, or is it 'OM'? ...'um'?...
So, to reirritate, (read 'iterate'), and with no nonsense but another incense lit for yer man and his full flowering venture into the great outside infrastructure overlay of the world we know and love so well and the dirty old town when the chips are down all along the banks a'crashing.  And ‘Molly Malone with a mobile phone and she a'texting’ down cobbled moonlit alleyways all shiny and scaly with the smell of the fish piling up in the barrow and they near set their ice on sweet Molly Malone.  Well that was the end of her and her mobile phone.

'Stracts of Thaught-s'*2
. . . as it was i put down the book i was musingly perusing (if musing be the fruit of love), which was Gaia Eros, an ungainly title, and pulled out your own clanwellian classic text*2 instead and attentively read, not for the first time i hasten to add, finding i'd read beyond the centre binding, before the proofreader in me realised he hadn't cooked dinner, a fact soon rectified in the wee wee hours by owl light.
Betwixt that and the neighbour above hitting the bottle and losing the plot, resorting to a replay public display of diminished vocabulary with a flourish of toxic invective devoid of a target and the kids in the cul de sac with balls and bikes their parents closing sliding sun porch doors and not to mention again the woman who gave me a parting kiss in the drizzle rain did it again in the sun over a hot chocolate all too plain a lot are losing the plot and without needing to say what i saw even without second sight just as i first thought between alarm bells and hindsight, putting two and two together pretty quick, deciding on invisibility being the best policy and absence without the cover of leaves hidden in plain sight, the shield of Amergin and activating an aura of inviolate crystalline 'abrasia', backtrack to retrace exactly how unmeditative my laxity of vigilance manifested that and promptly googled native american protective spells thinking to stock up on white sage and keep my eyes and ears on the path.

"True colours of the flowers now emerging" *3 
I got wind that Bob Dylan has another CD out, (his 35th i believe).  Considering i remember as if it was yesterday, my second girl friend handing me his first LP (long playing), simply called, 'Bob Dylan'.  Well, he's come a long way, and this one's called 'Tempest'.  So i 'checked it out', (another american wal-mart catch phrase export.)
At my fireside 'check out' desk i typed his name (that's another story), and listened to the first track and read a few reviews.  Being of the same so-called 'age', (another piece of conditioning from the first six years), and being naturally musical since before being reprimanded for playing my first plastic ukelele in public in primary school, i was aware of Dylan all the way.  And as such ‘twas a handy crutch when i was down and out in some back alleys in the rain and some other dirty old town the streets full of concrete trucks and grey smoke where hordes of Russian looking women in shawls and blankets pester pedestrians brazenly trying to sell their babies for 'a few bob mister', and i was busking my own lone minstrel songs and forever breaking strings for nothing. Singing Gypsy Child and 'Mister Tambourine Man' while strumming and blowing my brains out on a harmonica for six hours for six quid (pounds>£) just enough for a new harmonica that didn't have dead flies and nicotine stains blocking up the holes.
Anyway.  The 'Tempest', nothing to do with Shakespeare in the alley even if it was his last.  Far be it for me to review, somebody who helped me through, and he did accidentally move a whole generation, as you do.  But through my ears he sounds like Louis Armstrong with a hangover.  Age is no excuse.  You can be angelic at any age.  Especially if you think you're headed in that sort of direction.
So i watched the video that went with it.  Curious where my peers appear to be at.  And again, just like the video that went with his previous release, what was it called? 'Modern Times?' Both of them have this, more than an edge, more like a blunt instrument, of needless 'black', (not the melatonin pigment sort) gratuitous violence.
And that's supposed to be funny.  And it isn't.  Any more than any depiction of violence could ever be 'funny'.  Violence is not fun.
On his previous CD, video, what's funny or life enhancing about lovers breaking up, him trying to strangle her and her trying to attack him with a knife that belongs in the kitchen drawer, and then finally getting to the car and swinging around and driving at him full speed?  I recall, the title was, 'Beyond here lies nothing'.  Made me feel a bit sick.
Not the Bob Dylan that once was, or appeared to be.  What became of the man who wrote . . . ‘New Morning, Chimes of Freedom, Sad eyed lady of the lowlands, Like a Rolling Stone’ and literarily hundreds more?  He even inspired Jimi Hendrix to pluck up courage and sing.  "That guy was so out of tune man i figured i could do it."
Ironic that the man who had to endure, (as he expressed it) being hailed and branded as 'the spokesperson of a generation', was, in, his 'presumably' own words, not inspired by 'rock' but by '1930's' music.
I only ever heard him sing one song that acknowledged the 'indians' who's totally stolen land, that 'nation' (read corporation) is built on.  That was the song, 'The indian Ira Hayes'. And that sounded somewhat coyly sentimental, whatever his intent.  What was his real name Bob?

'Wasicu' (white men) take the fat *4
Ira Hayes is a colonial name.  As is 'Sitting Bull', Tatanka Yotanka!
'Chief Joseph', Hein mot too ya la kwets (some say 'ket ket'). Means, Thunder Rolling in the Mountain.  They killed his whole family and chased him all the way to Canada (Kanata) in the snow.  Till he said, "from this day on as the sun sets i will fight no more."
And,... 'Crazy Horse'.  Teshunka Weet'ko.   The word 'weet'ko', so far as i know, can mean 'crazy', but not literally so.  It could also mean something like 'magic', similar to the word 'Wakan' ('an' as in French) which implies 'sacred'.  In the sense that all life is sacred and magically naturally so.
All very well being famous for wearing a cowboy hat and writing miles of good poetry, out-shaking Shakespeare (if there was one), channelling some literally groundbreaking and earthmoving visionary lyrics in ever self-redesigning Gemini shapeshifting modes, and, thank you, while celebrating the 'spirit of the old west' (as they all do) while walking, no, driving, on stolen territory, all of it, only doffing the hat on one record sleeve and that, to the tradition of sons and daughters of lost Europan refugees (lost, as in, don't know where you are).
And they're still killing natives 'legally' all over Kanata and poisoning the lakes, rivers, streams, groundwater, air, fish, (there used to be so many salmon, an indian considered it unsafe to put a boat out), true. And all to get the land and ...'resources' for heavy industrial 'civilization', which is by definition terminally unsustainable.
'It eats up ever more of the surroundings to sustain an ever expanding population.'
Excuse me, how is that sustainable?

An upsurge of Flower Power
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... 'The Legendary' Leo Gillespie, he himself who introduced me to busking and thence to Ireland (Inis Fòdhla) over forty years ago pops up on my you tube channel.  Having busked as far as Cambodia not to mention Iceland and all stations between, with first hand musical videos to prove it.  And even a video tribute to me which i somehow posted a thank you for.  His song 'Capricorn'. + many more. He sounds more like Dylan than Dylan himself.  And now Jasper who i also knew from back then, as they say, still singing and playing on some home made videos against a backdrop of stringed and otherwise instruments of all shapes and sizes. Surprises. But then, there's no time BUT the present.  And you can only ever sing in the present.  No point being 'behind the timing.'
And i was just a while ago, sitting on my pumpkin resting jaw on palm to elbow poking the grate and ponderating what to write and now it's ten to five, in the morning, not even yawning, new day is dawning, silently wandering down alleyways of memory firmly planted in the present, typing away with two fingers.  I have got more but i use those for the piano.  Tapping and scrolling the night away.  Wonder what everybody else is doing, the ones that are not lying down, travelling in other astral realms, digesting 'pasts' and designing tomorrows.
....sigh.... What did i call this?  'Smokewriting'.
Well, what do you know.  Only twelve letters.  Need one more to make thirteen.  'Smokewritings'.
Smoke gets in my eyes. Nothing flies like no time at all.
One letter's enough for now.  That's all. ~~~~~   RBM. AKA martin
><><><><><><><><><><><><$$  ?! ><><><><><>><><><><><><><><


*1 being an oft quoted line from the well known ballad, who's title eludes me.
*2 'Stracts of Thaught' - by The CláinWellian, a hard copy novelette from wfp
*3 from Rainbow Bodies- a song by martin rainbowmaker
*4 (Exp.  wasicu, ( wah-she- chu) indian word for white man.  Also means, 'takes the fat'.)  True enough.


art : moon river girl, martin law, 1995
artwork : digital pan play collage sequence - wfp for moo : "13 incl.space - inside Haeven", SEP 12

trowel tips and Gaian-root instinct twitches

(destiny of acorn’s destiny part III)

(see parts I and II of IV - forthcoming)

On 30 August 2012 22:29, Martin Law  wrote:

>Blessings on the Industrious Revolution and a marathonic planting of nutritious mix of ingredients on the Cork Food web page.  [referring to martin law’s page on corkfoodweb.  This site is tho’ currently down and we don’t know when it will be back up again.  ed.]   It was said to me and I agree, 'co-op' is a funny word.  Like a battery chicken with hiccups.  Damned if i can remember my password.  Occurs to me maybe i haven't got one and need to think of one, i'm terrible with passing words.
Perusing people's friends i see someone on there that ties up to a prior 'Metamorphosis' website of mine and me. Small world.  Even smaller story.  Of a story. A story without a single word of warning, for no known reason, when this man took my site down by blocking off the homepage.  Told me, "Fuck off you'll have to get another one it'll cost you a thousand."  Simply that.  So that's when i enquired around and rainbowmaker.info turned out to be the next website.  Musical chairs.
(By way of expressing appreciation of a kind nocturnal Industrious Revolution.)  Win a few lose a few they say.
So, with one of the suns visible in the sky (where else?) i sprang feet first (how else?) out of bed at 11.30 imagining a cup of coffee (always works a treat) and after a contemplative while did a bit on the pooter.  Partly to see if there was anybody out there as well as scan the what's-still-not-happening-yet circuit.  Took another look at 'Ascension with mother earth and current state of affairs' as they also feature Drake Kent Baileys’ updates but i'd already listened to the latest.  Yes he's released his other names and his photo.  That website though, every time i've been on it, it messes up my pooter, 'pages not responding' and i get what my moo-tech says he calls 'a sticky'.  [the 'pooter' - computer - is hanging. -ed]  But i got some anti spider solvent, and wonder if it's the black hackers hacking as they talk about free energy and arrests and ascension etc. all the things that set spiders weaving.

So with at least one of the suns still visible and my Gaian roots instinct twitching a bit from artificiality and with the 'Acorn's Destiny' canvas replete with completed carbon blueprint still congruelling on the table i did a four hour leisurely intensive on the front garden. 
That is, spade sliced and trowel dug out a neat gully strip each side of the pathway.  Hauling out deep dandelion tap roots and levering out small boulders and broke off the trowel tip in the process.  But small things become poetized when worded in plain language.  Clipping and cropping the edges and beyond, neatly with hand clippers.  Shear delight.  And even the odd neighbourly conversation pausing for a coffee break, odd being the word in some instances.
"Seedum!" That's the name of the indescribably red plants i couldn't remember last time.  Bumble bees love them.  Tortoiseshell butterflies too.  "Nectar and nectarine".  I counted nearly fifty bumbles humbly stumbling on one plant alone, some of them distinctly honey stripe furred great grand bumbles, grazing and dipping their proboscises in the deep red wine pink pollen.  So sat on the grass and watched and nobody hacked and all their pages were fully responsive.
Till enough being enough, cleaning up the dirt and roots and boots and finger scraping the compost grass clippings (hands are best), and gazing appreciatively at the subtle difference made, looking being an indispensable luxury of gardening.  Cook something and sit out the back with late afternoon shadow behind me.
Backs of houses unlike fronts being mostly unpainted and stucco grey.
Through a gap between gable ends rusted galvanized shed roofs seen through giant cabbage leaves illuminated.  A glimpse of the sea as the pyramidal Sugarloaf due west imperceptibly slides to the left to collide with the glarish sinking sun.  The shimmering disc dazzle streaked with pearly mackerel and descending into a sudden ultra violet mist. 

Actually an optical complementary effect from fierce yellow photons but no less real from being in the eye of the beholder.  Seeing the sun sink while eating chips, chick peas and cheese.  Did you ever see such a thing?  Reminds me it was a blessing that long ago i was deemed not suited for entry into a Grammar school.  The point being i would otherwise now be liable to syn tax.  I still remember the interview, and that my mother had advised, if they ask why you want to be in Grammar school, say "it's an honour", which i duly did, "It's an honour your honour".  Worked fine.  No syn tax.

Just as digression is nine tenths of the tale, and like the aurobouros ....
(that one's not in my dictionary) i come full circle with my tail still in my mouth.  Which is probably how i even survived 'secondary' school.  The circle is unbroken so i freely give a sacred hoop or is it a whoop!? Neatly bringing my train of thought into a siding.  Thus rounding off a one act play on words.  Whatever with grammar i think the content is clear enough.... enough for now.
Stay mystical. ~~~~ Rainbowmaker.

art : Acorn’s destiny - process, martin law, august 2012

caption : martin law, in the garden, Countesthorpe, a few years ago

Dream Reporter 1

Wrote this, this morning:

>Sept. 17. 8.a.m.     Dream Reporter.
Arising from a typical dream realm after only three hours sleep,(again!),
and discerning or divining the drift of what it's indicating collectively, as it relates to behaviour around me, and others' perceived responses.
My inner barometer says this:  Not so much that something of an energy nature is being directed at us.
Rather, that we are collectively rising through a zone which registers as a rite of passage.  Feels inwardly like a 'purging' process which can, and if navigated in balance, will be seen to be a cleansing.
I use the word 'purging', as the area i pass through in the dream world, is always noted as being a purgatorial version of consensus Earth life.  Which is why i choose to wake out of it.
Any seeming personal familiar references in the dream, are due to an amplification and polarization of what we carry within our personal experience.  Such that they take on a surreal symbolic nature. 
This meshes well with the conception of the lower next dimensional zone being where these energies tend to gravitate like a sediment. 
We are rising up through, and potentially out of the sediment.  The vibration of which is familiar to me.
The fact that it's evident from the dream state, indicates that the same environmental influence is what is impinging on the 'waking' state of the world collectively, which increasingly is being acknowledged as resembling a bad dream.
To get this picture is to get a handle on passing through it without being taken in by it.
The manifestations in the dream situations are an amplified version of what underlies collective waking behaviour, and very noticeably so.
The process whereby i wake from it is a direct pointer to the way to operate from in the waking world.  That is, i consciously stay aware of the anomalous nature of all events, and so doing, remain in touch with the aspect of me that is not native to that realm.  In that sense, as it intensifies, i am, by the nature of affinities, squeezed up and out of it. 
It's only disturbing as long as i'm identified with it as a norm to be participated in, as if it were the only reality.
The situations seemingly encountered always manifest exponential intensification, so the anomalies become blatantly obvious. 
This is the sedimentary zone of the lower collective psyche.  Not to be overreacted to, as that involves participation.  As below, so above, in waking life.  Waking life, in the sense that it is life awaking.
The waking from dream is a parallel precursor to the waking from consensus reality and likewise not to be feared.
We only fear something when we think it's real.  Conversely, we only think it's real when we fear it.  The point being, that none of it is personal.
Since the pressure is rising, we are wisely advised to let go of personal baggage, which is a liability while adhered to.  Our personal memories, emotional responses, habits, are being purged and cleansed, so let them go.  And with a canny sense of humour with regard to the surreal.
Behaviour i see around me, is about people failing to cop on to this principle.  It's essential if we want a better dream.  There's no alternative in this stage. 
Rise up like bubbles from the deep.  That's an appropriate analogy.  The process is occurring by its own nature.  Align with a higher vision as being your true emerging nature, and rise out.
The dream:

I'm on a failed errand to buy meat for Soana.  She's in tears and hurt because i appear to have eaten most of it, and have to go back.  I offer to go and get more, out of compassion for her hurt.
So i go on a long walk through the country to reach a sordid old style town and locate a butcher's shop.  Which i do, after mistakenly checking a dark cafe or inn.
In the old shop, the transaction becomes increasingly bizarre, and the currency is unfamiliar, and keeps getting lost and changing shape.

The proprietor is getting more and more impatient, and his silent surliness also spreads to the few customers around me.  Which sounds like something insignificant, but for the accelerating surreal shapeshifting nature of everything.
This time i get the message much quicker than previous times, that, where i seem to be, is not the realm of energy i am native to.
And i rise out of it pretty quickly, relative to the degree that i'm consciously aware of the fact. 

That's a simplified example of the principle in process of manifestation.
It's been suggested, that when you awake from a morning dream, it's more likely to be out of body travel.  Though i didn't go to bed till five, and only had the three hours of sleep to where dreams occur.
I go back to bed for another six, having written this to discern what it seems to be saying.
Learning quicker where not to dwell, or even go there.  With the intent to use it as a guide through the collective transition in this, that we are in the habit of regarding as normal daily reality.  [ We'll see how 'normal' it is. ]
{ Rainbowmaker.}  }{}{}{}{

 

artwork :
unknown planet, march 2003
hieroglyphics 3, November 23, 2005
martin law
digital pan play - wfp for moo :
planet glyphing - collage sequence, SEP 12

tracing acorn’s destiny

(destiny of acorn’s destiny part II)

COBS

On 22 August 2012 16:41, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

>Concentrate of briefspeak, COBS-
Thanks 'Hello' dark font - just what eye wanted.

Waking thoughts: 'Waking up is hard to do', parody of 50s? pop song, 'Breaking up is...'

(While sitting contemplating on porcelain Roisin's response that she's "dazzled" and that " . . . you will invent a new language to wake up the 'People-animals'"), for No 'L', a new title outing the old: 'A New Word Order'.  So, continuing from the title: 'The illiterati think syntax is something you pay the church but it's actually "a weapon of mass instruction"'. A term from Jan Gaylor Totto who i listened long to right after a long phone talk which sent me there.

Working initial first thought syn tax on a 13 times 13, will later consecrate and carve in smoking medicine concrete and spiral blueprint beam anticlockwise as ye do.  Rest assured.

All this without yet breakfast. Up late watching Amazon natives.

Intend tracing 'Acorn's Destiny' today as i weeded all front garden yes terday after nice visit from Helen back from Ecuador, we watced Tippi - young girl growing up naturally in africa, i later sent articles, greeting her with "Hel(lo)en".  Dig?
Worth using 'Kisses the Wolf' again (enlarged) goes well with 'People-animals & Animal-people' text.
Got lots Bumbles and Butterfly in garden.
They love the red plant (name eludes) and Buddlia. Dug/weeded half back patch.
Helen re-members Cheyenne life, sha-He-eh-nah (people with the shrill voice).
Sunshine late start must breakfast and trace.......
(! a chat pop up from Audrey) Will study photos for blog material.
Continuing...RBM

Replying to latest messages ...

On 23 August 2012 01:42, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

Repliances . . .
I just completed my meticulous complex tracing for next painting.

Good questions about title typo.  Cos i have a relevant thought about it.  I actually expressed it in my most recent message to no-L but didn't continue and relate it now in time.  It was this:  'People-animals & Animal-people' - the upper and lower case showing which is which more clearly i thought.  And the hyphen.  The >>> <<< things are good.  I like using symbols. Those ones are quite indian.
Another thought i put in the message was, i thought the painting, 'Kisses the Wolf' might suit the article even though we used it before.
It occurred to me that no harm in re-using illustrations particularly when they fit the subject.  It's like a pack of cards, but being steadily added to.
Another thought was monitoring the pace we progress at, as i half expected we were preparing the september blog and might need to hold a collection of stuff back so as to have a complete blog ready when september comes.  
So our rhythm is in synch.  The principle of having something in reserve.

~~~ My tracing looks so disciplined and psychedelic that i thought it might be a good idea to get a clear black and white copy to send to blog as it's an artwork in itself, and the idea of showing a work in progress might be good for people to see, as they'd never know otherwise.  It would be an educative process, much needed.
So can we be preparing for the september one before you go ahead?
Also relative to how often i get on a good writing roll.
Have the feeling i wrote one or two usable emails recently. Will have to take a leisurely look. But sure there's more notions i want to put in writing.  Wish more people would read my stuff, more in it than meets the casual eye i reckon
How's the great outdoors?
i had a listen to Alfred Webre on Exopolitics , his presentation via video at the Vancouver Chemtrail conference and expose.  He ties everything up very well and is a profound researcher and innovative mind.  Founder of the concept of 'Exopolitics'. Gets some heavy establishment flak too which says a lot.
Enjoyed email response about 'birthdays'.  Good on you for seeing through them as being 'anything'. Like krismuss, what's that!?
Just a way of checking every year as to how gullible people are so they can be 'fleeced' like sheep and kept in slavery. 
Do feel free to share what i write with everybody.  I'm always jotting things down.  Like the title i shared with 'No-'L'. >>> 'A New Word Order'.
Here's another from today,-   'IBOK-UBOK2'
Kool hah?  Look good on a T shirt.   Also good way to round off a letter.
Anyway, I.B.O.K.-U.B.O.K.2.
rainbowmaker

Kool

On 23 August 2012 03:17, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

> Does seem like the blog improves as it 'goes along' (another funny concept, 'goes along'.)  Might find i write something that 'Holy woman' would fit with.  Every time i scan the web i think that civilized people have a totally screwed up concept of beauty.  Totally robotic cliché ridden and with no notion of natural.  Says a lot about how ungrounded and infantile the collective psyche is.
It's collective aesthetic immaturity through absence of education in that area, which should be all encompassing.  I could easily rant about that.
Just mounted my tracing on a white piece of paper and may copy and send from Tobe.  I could educate people in a simple way about how non-artificial beauty is arrived at.  Might be a good way to go, like in stages, before and after.  Imagine a film like that.  I can verbalise and demonstrate method, but sensitivity and inspiration is another matter.  Interesting subject for cups of tea.
I imagine that moo is currently tuning the focus to music, transforming moo into mood (at least in the key of 'd'.)  I had a good free form piano play earlier.  What a grateful luxury.  How did i manage without, for over 'sixty years'!!??  Well, you do with what you got till you get.
Anyway kool kommunikation, thanks.
IBOK-UBOK2-RBM<

art : acorn’s destiny - tracing, martin law, august 2012

(see destiny of acorn’s destiny :
acorn’s destiny - a pre view - part I
trowel tips and Gaian-root instinct twitches - part III
acorn’s destiny - part IV - forthcoming)

acorn’s destiny - a pre view

acorn’s destiny - a pre view  

(destiny of acorn’s destiny part I)

art : acorn's destiny, martin law, September 2012 

(see destiny of acorn’s destiny part II of IV)

 

Being -not -Doing.

On Wed, Sep 5, 2012 at 1:07 AM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

                          
         
                                             'Being-not-Doing.'
I feel inclined to insert at the outset, that i am not attempting to dismiss 'doing', as an integral aspect of 'being'.  Rather, to suggest, that in our present system, the obligation to be doing, tends to be at the expense of our sense of well-being.
That the pressure of what we are required to do, in order to be, has the effect of limiting, if not preventing our freedom to be, in it's optimum potential.
Doing, is a natural aspect of being, and not the other way around.  Looked at this way, it may help to relieve some of the stress of our preoccupation with activity as a way of defining ourselves.
To be, is to gravitate towards food, shelter, and shared interaction.  Yet we stress this natural response as an obligation, which then tends to create a stressful sense of being.
Simply being, doesn't imply that nothing happens through us.  We gravitate towards our basic needs in the same way that we breathe.
But, (and this is the point) to make a compulsion out of what happens naturally by itself, is to generate a prevailing consciousness of needless and counterproductive stress.  Rather as if we were to declare it illegal to stop breathing.Everything, is just being what it is, and so, grows and evolves naturally.  Only people, seem to be obsessed with doing.  Which is why they imagine that, if they weren't busy doing, nothing would happen.  When was nothing ever happening?
Is being born, a doing, or is it just happening?  A division in consciousness comes, when the doers, who are already doing, coerce the being into doing something.  The origin of the sensation of a doer separate from the action.
Call it a self if you like.
Everybody loves babies, animals, birds, flowers, because they are just being what they are, and don't have some idea about doing.
In a natural world, we would help everything to be what it is, and not force it to do something about it.  We live in a system that has to do things to people to make them do what the system of doers wants, and not do what it doesn't want.
Having no self-trust, it's afraid to let anything be.  The fear is rationalized as: "You can't just let people do what they want."  Why not let them be, instead?
'Civilization', is a system of people telling each other what to do, and never letting them be.
It's out of control because, having been long based on the assumption, that you can't trust anybody to be what you want them to be.  Backed up by a long history of, somebody always telling somebody what to do.  History is the perpetual justification of a mistake.  Which explains why nobody learns anything different from it.
It's the emphasis on doing, backed by thousands of years of bitter experience that keeps the thing going, and gives rise to the conclusion that: 'You can't trust human nature.'
When was the last time you saw a human, being, without the compulsion to be doing?
What we call religion takes advantage of this, by stating that humans are basically born flawed.  Instead of seeing that such a presumption itself is what is flawed.Would you entrust your being, to the concept of a 'creator', who seemingly creates endless flawed beings, (makes boo-boos) and got it right only once in a period of thousands of years?  Well, would you? Do you?
Not to mention, the notion of killing somebody for killing somebody.  'So it won't happen again.'  When did killing ever stop killing?
How about, 'be' unto others?  'Others', brothers, what a lot of bother.
You can't make somebody be, because they already are.  So you threaten to 'do' something. 
If you can't trust yourself to be, without having to do something, then you can't trust your mistrust either.  A vicious circle?
Circles are not naturally vicious.  Quite the opposite.  If they were we wouldn't be.  Circles have been given a bad name in the square world.  No, the real problem all around the world, is 'corners.'  They lock bad energy. The 'four corners of the globe', indeed! 
Corners.  This much this way, and this much that way, "chunk"!  This bit's mine and that bit's yours.  'Owned Property. No Trespassing!'  What in the wiggly world...?  Structurally sound?  Sound is round.
In a circle, the Yin and the Yang, so-called 'opposites', are quite happy, interrelating by virtue of each other, like eternal lovers.  It's called 'non-duality'.
You wouldn't be a you without a so-called other, so be thankful.
They should teach that in primary school.  What we are in the habit of calling 'education', is to 'make' people 'do' well.  When it should really be helping them to 'be' well.  After education, there should be a 'de-education'.  Otherwise people grow up thinking that 'things' really are separate.
So now it's come to a head, (according to the body of opinion).  "What do we 'do' about a system that won't let us be?  And the circle becomes a vicious whirlpool.  Do you really expect me to tell you what to do?  As if i could.
One simple answer might be, to be as you are, and to do only that which best serves the truth of what you are, shared freely to the benefit and well-being of others also.  While avoiding doing whatever would restrict this natural response.  Which is what present patriarchal fake authoritarian systems are still in the habit of doing.  Be what you are.  Don't do what doesn't come from the best of what you are.  Share and help.

If i see the absurdity of our present paradox, you can too.  And probably do.  We're all symptoms of something larger.  There's hope in that, if you focus on what's right about the way you just are, and not think you're just a flawed human being.
Valuing simplicity helps. Not thinking that what's true has to be complex.  We were all told that being simple is the same as being stupid, when it's the other way around.  So we're afraid to be simple in case we appear stupid.
'The simplicity of childhood'.  Children aren't stupid.  Babies even less so. 
Why did Lao-Tzu honour the infant as being an example of the natural way to be?  The 'Tao', which means something like, 'the natural way,' 'nature's way'.
It's worth reading his description.  Lao-Tzu.  'The Tao Teh Ching', (the way and it's power.)  Verse 55.
Who's more stupid, a baby or an adult?
One is simply being, the other suspects he's flawed.  One simply experiences what is, the other suspects that the truth, whatever it might be, must be complex.
There's an art in all this, and one we have to unlearn.  And it doesn't have to be complex.  You don't have to do anything.  We've all been conned into thinking we have to do something complex, (the more so the better) to simply experience what just is.  We call it, 'having a complex'.  Whether inferior, or superior, a complex pure and simple.
So i'd say, do what you like.  Like what you do.  If, and when you do. 
Think what you like, (you do anyway).  Might as well like what you think.
But i won't say "be".  Otherwise you might think i'm telling you what to do, and nobody likes that.  So i'll let you be.  Be what?  Well you can only be as you are now can't you, and what's wrong with that? 
You can't 'be' in the future.  So i wouldn't worry unduly about being or not being in the future.  You don't, in this moment, have to do anything in particular, to fully be what you are.  What nonsense.  Feel free.  So be it.
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Rainbowmaker/

artwork:
Crystal of Love, martin law, May 2008
Androgyne Star, martin law