7:30pm every Wednesday

The Three Jewels in NYC.
61 Fourth Ave, New York, NY 10003
Phone:(212) 475-6650

Due to the faith and support of THE THREE JEWELS MEDITATION AND YOGA OUTREACH CENTER we have had a weekly meeting in New York City for three years.

All are welcome. There are no constraints or restraints, except a request to respect the space and the people. Please leave judgements with your shoes and allow yourself the kindness to relax, meditate share and listen in this wonderful space.  This group meditation and discussion is led by teacher Joseph Mauricio.

By donation.

For more information go to the ABOUT page.

A Politics of Soul

The world seems poised at a time of critical mass. Standing at the the edge of now, we come to a time to reckon and decide. Will humanity take the mantle of responsibility for our world, or continue toward fragmentation, isolation and destruction? This cusp is evident in the stage show of American politics. Hillary is being forced precipitously to the left, distancing herself from Donald on the … right?

Or, wherever he stands now that the religious right and social conservatism have retreated to the shadows of influence. In a flood of judgement, one thing for which Trump has not been credited enough is his utter hobbling of the republican party. This even as the exacerbation of its wounds continues to capture the hearts of their majority.

Bernie must live to fight another day.  The great progress made toward the undemonification of socialism, economic fairness and class awareness is estimable. Since his campaign the gnawing gash behind the wheels of democracy has become more evident. As veils become slowly diaphanous, scenarios of power structures indebted to big money, big business, big oil, big guns and big pharma are no longer the reserve of action adventure movies. The future us now, as this has become our own home movie.

Yet, even as currents below are exposed, so the vista above clarifies.  Can we continue to look away?

A decade ago, Ray Kurzwiel coopted the scientific term singularity to refer to the grand convergence of technology, the streams it enables and society. The theory – certainly borne out in actual events – is that the development of tech will exponentially increase until there is a tipping of the critical mass toward deep structural change that will happen perhaps too quickly to navigate. It is said in the Vedic scriptures that the time of iron will give way to the time of air. We recite apocalyptic prognostications, and the science fiction of ancient texts like fairytales embedding the ideal of a grand culmination in our mental stream. But, maybe this can be navigated elegantly. Perhaps with the advent of greater pain, comes greater awareness, and with it the responsibility to navigate the change with sanity and poise.

I believe there is a politics of materialism which may give way to a politics of spirit, a politics of soul, if you like. The politics materialism builds an identity around the limited conception of duality. We foster local unity by the creating a global difference. We find an other and gain strength through blame. We summarily blame the other party, other countries and other tribes of humans in order to rouse self-referential strength.  we are now  for real solutions to the problems facing modern life. Like it or not, we are living in another time and place than the world that had come before. Is it a precipice? A juncture? A singularity? An apocalypse? Maybe its just time.

Simply that.

The destination  is now and the time is here. Becoming awake in America is about bringing conscious intention to life, to our communities, families and ourselves. I love the idea of being part of a web of purpose whereby we can connect through the warmth of our hearts and the power of intention. It is so important to remember that we can create a purpose for our life, that makes whatever we’re going through, so worth it. Life is hard. But, maybe life becomes easier as we connect to others. Maybe its time to stop the aggressive me-first grabbing at life as though having more than we need will help us. When we act out of panic, all we do is support the panic. When we act out of need, all we do is create more need.  But when we find the space of enough, we have enough space to allows other in to our world. We become part of our world. As we give up that which we only grab out of fear, we gain space to acquire new things.

In that space we can create a place to be. A place to create, to conjure, to come home. A kingdom of the mind. A country of the heart ruled by the politics of soul. A kingdom created in the image of human goodness, developing toward goodness for all.

All of us live in societies. We all feel trapped here, or inspired here depending on how much we feel involved in the world around us. We can isolate, and live behind the walls of a stone castle, and become more ensconced in the beliefs that bind us. Or, we can integrate, open to the differences and turn willing to listen the world. Learn hear the songs of  other clans, learn to kneel before other beliefs, learn to feast with other tribes. To learn and to change, while still upright in our own dignity.

Perhaps its time.

Awake in America

There was another mass killing.

Which one was that? The terrorist? The Muslim who sympathized? The Syrian who was left out? The Kid in the night club? The white kid in the theater, or the best friends at school?  Its getting so hard to keep count. Kids killing kids, cops killing kids, cops being killed, improvised explosives and suicide vests changing the face of public gathering. The world is erupting.  And with it, the cry to have more guns, and more war and more punishment. As though adding to the problem will somehow solve the problem.

But with all the pain, there feels like hope in the cracks of our chaos. With more pain there is, perhaps, more awareness.  There is more here, in front of us, to see and to understand.

This is a great time to be alive. Yes.  Not instead of the pain or despite the pain, but entirely because of the pain. Its a blessing that we are here to help and to repair and to work to bring this world back into harmony with the earth that has nurtured us. Its a blessing here in New York City to be among the fortunate, the privileged, the few who have the honor to make a difference. It is our great honor to serve. And it is great to give back. You see, we become weakened as we grab for more. We falter as we turn away.  We fail as we try to win, and win at all cost. There is no wining that does not win for all of us. There is no sanctity except in the grace of living in a world that we support, and are supported by.  And because of this, it is a great time to be awake.

The destination is now, and the time is here. We can make a difference, slowly and surely in our lives and now – more than ever in history – even small differences will be heard around the world.

America Awake is a call to (open) arms. Awake is a revolution whose symbol is not a raised fist, but an open hand. It is a philosophy of understanding. And, rather than re-knowing what we already know, reiterating what we’ve been told, retelling the obvious and restating that which was written in stone, in an age of stone, we can emerge into a new dawn, and simply have the courage to say . . .  heck if I know. Lets start fresh.

How can I help?

What is happening now? And, how can I better understand the needs of my sisters, and the truth of my brothers, and the pain of a rainbow of every shade in between?

I pledge allegiance to the moment. And equipped with the immense power of wakefulness, vow to listen to the differences and to heal all damage. I pledge to cause harm to no one and bring the world together in a time of darkness.  I pledge to never outrun my fear, but to open my heart to the transformative possibility of my pain.

Is that utterly ridiculous?  I suppose so. Its certainly naive and simplistic. And, how cool is that?


There is so much pain in the world. So much struggle. We have everything we need to have everyone on the planet happy, safe and well fed. But, the imbalance of wealth continues. The environment is red lining. There are random catastrophic attacks on innocent people around the world.  Is any of this sustainable?  Fixable? Actually, survivable?

Is it the end of times? Or, will that come with an election in the fall?  (I’m old enough to have laughed at the idea of Ronald Reagan.  And we all remember Al Gore winning the presidency, don’t we?) But seriously, are we going to elect a billionare with questionable business histories to help restore economic balance? The alternative, by the way, is only a millionaire with equally sliding moral scale.

In what scientists refer to as a stable universe, we live with the fact that the cosmic rug can be ripped from us at any time. But, science only explains so much. Our beliefs, when they aren’t completely blocking us, only go so far. Ideas aren’t worth the projections they’re imprinted on. When it comes down to it, there is only life. And life does whatever the heck it wants.

That’s what we signed on for when we met the gleam in our parents’ eyes and pushed past the thighs screaming into the night. It’s no surprise we were crying. But, Then we gave in, forgot the truth, and decided to try it all over again.  We became excited by our feet and the prospect eating the coffee table. Eventually, we walked and eventually we let go of youth to pound rocks in this improbable prison called life. 

And we understood that those weren’t rocks so much as our heads. And when we stopped pounding long enough against the cell door, we had an epiphany. Okay, not an epiphany as much as a realization. Or, maybe a resignation. This is all there is. Its not gonna be anything other than this. And when we got that, we stopped hitting our head long enough to realize the cell was ajar. And that jars can be opened. And, all we need do is let go into that smile from divine tho born from the dirt and delivered to the dirt, in between, take our place on the planet as its stewards and its fruit. That’s it really. Just take care of things, as we can. 

People try and find deeper MEANING in life as the planet is threatening to evict us, and we are warring on our own souls. Kind of like philosophizing at the scene of a car accident. Sure, these things beg the grand questions. But, shouldn’t someone call an ambulance? 

This is a plea for us to do something out of love and care for each other and the world. This is a call to nonviolent activism. Waking up in the chaos and riding this lifemare into the dark and the light of our journey. Letting go of what we believe, so we can step into the arms of who we are and what we need to do for each other to save ourselves.  I recommend sitting down to gather ourselves and letting the energy of change change us into the Bodhisattvas we were destined to become.  If the world is grasping for something to save it, maybe we can be junkies for wakefulness. Maybe we can be willing to sleep in the cold just for the rush of helping our world. So when Walking Dead is finally done, when we’ve exhausted all excuses, when the alarm has been pushed to snooze enough times, we can wake up and realize this is the only life we have in this life. And it needs us. Not the planet. The planet will evict us and carry on like nothing much happened. In a billion years it will sprout another thinking race. And, maybe that race will know enough to live with some respect for itself. 

But, maybe that race is here. In our dream of waking. In our belief in each other. In our trust in humanity.  We can wake up into the dream, and bring the change.


Bartering Being Right for Being Love

More bombings. More terror. Tuesday morning, on the eve of a solar eclipse, suicide bombs and automatic weapons took the lives of over 30 people in Brussels. After 5 people died in Istanbul the previous Saturday. The two recent attacks left over 200 wounded. And there were others before. Large and small. High profile and low. A lineage of hatred ringing through the streets. Our streets. The streets of human hope, life and understanding. Its hard not to be angry and frightened. And so, its easy to react in anger, passing down hatred through successions of aggression.
And many will do that. And, this is natural and, for now, unavoidable. But, there are some who will stand in the face of terror. There are those who will offer love and caring for the victims and a world torn by hatred. It takes great bravery to do this. My heroes are those who stand for love, regardless. Who don’t fall for the easy action, and instead try and face the danger with an open heart and open eyes. It is imperative that some of us begin to understand this anger and offer kindness in its stead.Facing terror with an open heart will seem naive to some. But, by opening the heart instead of shying away, we are able to begin to see. By maintaining a radical allegiance to openness, we can begin to understand how to heal and how to break the chain. We may not have answers.  But, if we remain dedicated to waiting through the pain, perhaps we can one day find a way out. But, if not, and if this violence continues until it ends us, at least some will have given the love and care that is so needed in the midst of pain. Someone has to answer blood with heart, or we will never heal. And if we never heal, we will never grow beyond these cycles of self-interest and self-protection.

For those brave enough to face the terror, perhaps we can be still long enough to see its entire scope.  While we revile terrorism for its animal cruelty and relegate terrorists to sub-human status, we have given ourselves the moral permission to place all our frustration, fear and anger onto a nondescript other. This momentary empowerment feels right. It feels strong. But the more we grip, the less we see and the more vulnerable we become. By closing our mind in a vice, we are actually more at risk.  We are vulnerable not only to danger, but to being manipulated by those who broker in fear and hatred. We all love the underdog in movies. We identify with native struggles, and those oppressed by stronger cultures. This “Robin Hood” syndrome is a very real human impulse. The United States identifies as rebellious in it’s inception. But weren’t the patriots we now revere deemed terrorists to some?  How was this new country viewed by the native people of this continent? How were its people viewed by slaves torn from their families, shipped and traded like cattle to support an illegal economy?  And how are we now seen to young children growing up in the middle east with scant hope and little opportunity? The dispossessed are easily manipulated by those who profit from their anger, and frankly the first world is an all too easy target.

But, the truth is, we are all victims of aggression. There is poverty and disempowerment in the first world, as well. There are victims of abuse in our safe American homes who can so easily turn toward hatred to find a way from their pain. Hate on hate on hate on hate. Our lineage of suffering might look senseless and cruel from the outside, but it feels so heroic within. This hatred keeps us spinning, and in our spinning, we no longer see. We only grasp the closest ally, and follow the strongest current. In this way, we are all the unwitting perpetrators of our destruction. And in the melee, we miss the reality, for it is a sad truth that in times of duress victims will kill victims. We are so caught in the bloodlust, we forget to see the obvious.

One obvious thought that haunts me is that terror costs money. A lot if money.  Who has the money?  I’m sure that few people dressed in a suicide belt come from great wealth and power. Where is the money that supports them? Along with pictures of the carnage, why are there no articles on who is financing terror? Why is there so little said about who is actually benefitting? Where is the money? If we stop the money, and prosecute the pipeline of arms and resources, might we not slow the progress of hatred if not unearth its cause? Might we be able to separate out the causes and conditions and begin to see how to untie the noose?  Then those left in the trenches might be free to communicate and begin to understand what creates this hatred. Unfortunately, then we would have to listen to stories we’d rather not hear. We’d have to begin to see ourselves in the other. And, that is so very much more complicated than simple blame.

No, its easier to stay with the simple. Its easier to build walls and blow up markets than to try and see what someone else sees. And because of this blindness, we are at the mercy of the momentum. We are pulled like bulls from our nose. We are lead to slaughter again and again. So, while anger is easily justified, some of us simply must try something else. Some of us must take the mantle of kindness and peace in the face of war. Some of us must stand to open our hearts, if not to the aggressors, at least to the victims.  So it will be said, never forget, and please don’t let them have died in vain. And monuments will be erected. And those slogans will be used to rally further war. This is what has happened, and what will happen again.

But, our memories of the victims can also be used to rally peace. Don’t let the victims die in vain. Let their suffering pose an opportunity for us to bond in compassion and caring. Let us forgive the easy answers for the bravery of being love in this time of hatred. This will change the world.

And, if you think that this is naive, and an avoidance of the responsibility of action, then please show me how aggression has helped. Maybe sometimes it has. More often its probably just unavoidable. But, in any case, it has added to the myth of the preeminence of might. And, justified or not, this has obscured our ability to see past vicious struggles for survival to greater human understanding. If we choose love, we do something different. We take a moment to pause and for a brief, but very important moment, we break the chain. And that break proves that the chain is not unbreakable. And that gap might open the window to an opportunity to develop a new way of working with our pain. Maybe then instead of erecting statues to commemorate war, we can build monuments to peace. Instead of using victims suffering adventitiously to strengthen ourselves, we can share in their pain and create greater compassion and understanding in the world.

I do not have that understanding now. I am angry as well. I do not know what is right, or who is right or what is best. But, I know that I want to make a statement for peace, because peace is what is needed.  Simply that. There are warriors, and their are healers. The world has always been this way. Let us not forget the healing. Let us not forget understanding. Let us not forget to sit in meditation or prayer and in honor of those who suffer, face the terror with love.


5e5516f9-92a7-44d6-aaa5-a6cb4e76cd34DHARMAJUNKIES is a group dedicated to waking up in our lives and being a benefit to the world.  With a base in meditation practice, we are committed to waking up in everyday life.  We are committed to supporting a non-reactivity and stability of mind that allows us to see beyond self-interest to a path forward for us all.  To be present, purposeful and caring despite the challenges of a modern world. Compassion in chaos, calm in the the storm and sanity in the midst of the craziness. One breath at a time.

Humanity stands at a juncture in this new millennia. Even as we habitually cling to vicious lineages of cruelty, we have the possibility of letting go into a life in tune with the planet and its societies.  These divergent currents seem to be in provocative confluence.  On one hand, it would be guileless not to concede the world is a dangerous place seemingly controlled by self interest and driven by greed.  However, if we don’t halt the warring within ourselves, our societies and our world, we will become the problem rather than the purpose.  We may become obsolete, another incomplete step on the evolution of consciousness.  And, as this point sharpens, the tendencies for protectionism will likely build. It is a sad irony that our survival mentality could be our undoing.  And, at some point, if humanity moves further out of balance with the needs of the planet, where would you place your bets?  Despite momentary material gains, the house ultimately wins.

Helping our world is no longer an option.  It is an imperative. But, how can we help the world, when we are unclear how to help ourselves?  How do we overcome our own protectionist tendencies, and begin to see a life outside of ourselves? How can we muster the strength to care for a world that often seems adversarial?

Once we meet the mind of meditation, non-violent activism is quite natural.  Interestingly, the path forward begins with sitting down. Sitting down is is honesty. The bravery to sit in the storm and the find strength of non-violent action within us. Dharmajunkies are committed to discovering a way toward compassionate wakefulness in the world by uncovering natural wakefulness within ourselves, finding sanity in the chaos of modern life.  So, you are invited to come to a group, open your mind, share your heart and hold space for others to share theirs. In Dharmajunkies meetings we suspend judgements and develop a “yes and…” approach in acceptance of our disparate needs, beliefs and traditions. We learn from each other’s process as we develop our own beliefs. We employ meditation, wakeful sharing, group dialogue, dyads, and non-violent communication in order uncover our basic goodness and dignity.

We partner with TheSittingProject.com and @AwakeNewYork.com and other commiunuites to present mindfulness and meditation based events throught the city. Please visit our home group is in New York City, Wednesday Nights 730pm at the 3 Jewels Meditation and Yoga Center, 61  Fourth Avenue, 3rd floor.

DHARMAJUNKIES is independent, unaligned and open to anyone regardless of race, creed, sexual identification or orientation. Dharmajunkies are what we become when you get here.

Please contact us to be part of our mailinglist.





Strength in Our Commitment to Love


3bc2b461f74275834645cd3815ceab75There is a strength in a commitment to love. There is assurance in commitment to nonviolence. And, there is unshakable power in commitment to understanding. Understanding BEFORE action. KNowing what is, and how best to affect change. Not acting out of reflex, but holding to the moment until we understand what is best. Conscious action. Eschewing all reflexive defenses that close communication we can develop the faith to rely on awareness as our best defense.

Building bridges instead of walls.

Now going into a new set of elections, the most powerful nation on earth will bargain for its heart. And, where is our heart? Are we one nation under God, as we were brought up proclaiming, reciting as a mantra, so we will never forget? Or are we an ocean of people willing to find common cause in order to keep some of the pie. In truth, ‘American’ has always been a designation that defines itself in defiance to others.  We are ‘American’ not English, not South American, or North American, Central American, or Mexican American. Strangely, we are also not Indian American, or Native American, for we are not native to anything, really. We don’t belong to anything except the belief that we are something in relation to other things.  And, as that is an admittedly fragile platform, we reinforce our position by fiercely proclaiming what we are NOT.  We are not leftists, progressives, conservatives. We are not those. We are not them. We gain more strength in our determination to NEVER become what we are not. Leaders galvanize the populace in defiance of common enemies. Those enemies are a known threat. But their identity is determined by position. We shore up barricades in the south to hold off barbarians to the north. In the east, we warn against armies of unwashed waiting in the west. Everything is a threat to someone, and we grow stronger in our determination to hold the other out. We are, in fact, one nation united against someone else’s God.

And so now, at the turn of the teens,  technology develops more quickly than sense and children learn to hate more than they know. We are joined in our disdain for the left, our hatred of the right, our fear of heaven and our acquiescence to hell. For, all of us follow God until we are backed into a corner. And, then deals are made that trade our dignity for the momentary assurance of belonging.  We belong to heaven against earth, we belong those who oppose those who do not belong. To paraphrase my favorite philosopher Bill Hicks, we all want to create a people who hate people club, but we can’t get anyone to join. So, we do the next best thing, and create an object of our hatred in order to attract the masses.

And, we know, inside, that this is so very provisional. This carousel of cruelty turns with each season and reconfigures with each shift in power. One day we are in and the next, we are out. And, along the way, the more fear we cultivate, the easier we are to manipulate. The more entrenched we become in our hatred, the more quickly our base erodes when tides shift.

There simply must be more than this ancient surge to protect ourselves, this biting back on life with tooth and nail, this selling of our future to safeguard our past. There must be more. There must be love.

Oh, yeah. Love. Say amen. Sure. Love.

Love in the face of hatred? Really? Love is strong, yes. If we make love to our partner in the morning, we float out the door, and it lasts all the way to the freeway, or subway. Ok. But, should we fight with someone in the morning, our anger could last all day. Or, longer. Our anger could eventually define our life. And, then we are oh so easily led. If not Trumped by a demigod, then led around by our own nose like a beast of burden. Led by fear into the blind alleys of small mindedness and conformity. Everyone wants to be a rebel, wave the flag, be an insurgent, be the resistance. And the first thing you do? Pledge allegiance to your rebel state. Place a flag on your pickup and a gun in the window. An individualist, like all the rest.

Yes, love seems like not enough in such troubled times. Understanding looks too passive for change. Peace feels too calm to stand up to the fight. This is because love is not of ego’s creation. It was the first cause and its condition is that all things are possible. Love is natural. It is not stilted, nor configured around a temporary base. Love has the simple power of the universe behind it. In fact, it is the simple power of the universe. Love is not the province of any one God, but the reason for all of them. Love is a harder choice sometimes. But commitment to its principles is so strong. Outrageously strong. When hate feels like the sexy choice. When joining everyone else feels good. When building a wall no one can actually afford gets cheers in the hallowed halls of hatred, it time to sit still for a moment and learn to look at things. Perhaps it is time to make the brave choice, the outrageous effort to hold to principles of wakefulness, to not cause harm, and to never run from pain of the moment. To make choices that are best for all. That is strength. The strength to look at the world and see what needs to be done to heal it, and to pledge our allegiance to stay with the pain devoid of blame until each of us is liberated.

When we fight, we define differences and shutter communication.  We enforce a stultifying sameness in ourselves and foster alienation to other. But, all being yearn for happiness.  All of us are frightened, and all need protection. When we love, we understand. We might not agree, and it might be uncomfortable for us. But when we choose to open to situations, we see commonalities. Our world becomes richer.  We become the people we are trying to have others become. Then we can actually help them and in place of walls, create bridges. And, in so doing, instead of seeing the differences, we can see into each of our souls and relate to the human inside.  We are creating a politics of soul based on empathy. This is an ageless and very strong position.  For when we dedicate ourselves to the benefit of all beings, we are not excluding any.  We are not amassing strength at the expense of those weaker, on whom we can pour our enmity. We are believing in ourselves and feeling that love for all humanity. We are united spirit to spirit. Until ALL beings are liberated. Not some at the expense of others. Until ALL beings are liberated. That is the politics of soul. The power to stand with humanity, and to believe in us completely. Love can be a powerful tool.

Is that naive?  If we use force against those who hate we will lose. Those who broker in power are well versed in hatred. As Dr. King told his crew, God said to love your enemy. He didn’t say you had to like (them). So, we can learn to bring love to all that we see as wrong, to al we see as problematic, to all we see as the other. We can bring love to the very things we dislike, and we can begin a dialogue right here.  Here in the open arms of love.  Here we can develop faith that as long as we’re not triggered, as long as we remain balanced, as long as we hold to our commitment to nonviolence, we can find a way to understanding and communication.

Love = Understanding =  Awareness.  And, awareness is not only a richer interface with our world, it is a better defence from danger. Opening to situations, we are better able to protect ourselves and others from real danger, as opposed to being manipulated by our fear. In touch with our human heart, we can feel the hearts of others. Then “American” means human and includes all of us. That is a very strong position.





An Homage to Perfect Mistakes

There were so many of him. Suave, savage, svelt, charismatic, aloof, in your face and distant. Flaming red hair, uneven eyes, lips that kissed the dark of the world and made the night blush. Androsexual, asemetric, omnidrogenous vixen queen, who reigned as king of a world created from the chaos of unknowing.  A world that reformed and recreated with each brilliant mistake.

Driven by the power to create, the young man grew old, and never stopped creating. And, as it is after death, the blackstar rose and we remembered the rose tinted ideal, the ageless beauty, the sadness of his heartbreak, his power of prose and genius of poise. But, in truth, it took forever for Bowie to be Bowie. One mistake after another from David Jones mod-topped saxophonist, through the long haired hippie artist, Bowie fell from star to star until he stumbled upon space, a grande mistake.


Ziggy was a kaleidoscopic mash-up of stooges, velvets, vaudeville, music hall, Hamilton and Warhol in Matchabelli warpaint and an electric smile. He joined Roxy and Rex and turned the world on its gender specific hind and left us all undefined, before eschewing swing for the swagger of the duke, and then the a young american and then…

He stole from heaven and gave us low, pulled from the depths and blessed the sky with a blackstar. We owe him a great deb. He was perfect. Perfection as the product of great mistakes. This tainted saint an ADHD spirit with an artist’s heart – restless, uncertain and forever ch-ch-ch-changing.

A whole generation of us fell in love with the prepunkpunk of rebel rebel channeling our inner bitchy teen. I was amazed that a secret part of me identified as a girl. And, quite unsettlingly, a girl to whom I was super attracted. In one swell flop I had acknowledged my angry teen damage and fell in love with myself. Honoring the darkside, indeed.

But, artists long for freedom. Some can abide little external form. Patti Smith walked out of the bookstore in which she worked at 23. She had no job again except art. Just art. She and Robert on the floor of a room in the chelsea hotel cut and pasting thier future. All the while with the doubt and self-blame of an artist. Those born to create, live as secret frauds in the societies to whom they pretend.

But, some among us do not pretend. John lennon never had another job except delivering milk one summer for his uncle. That must have been something. The the universe respects tenacity and we keep pounding those chords, making nistakes and falling thru the gates of change, and eventually time and space will correct to meet us, warped around our wRped gravity. Not that I can speak for the universe, but I long to imagine it respects those brave enough to make mistakes. The universe might well be the product of a series of mistakes. It takes one to fondle one.

Always make better mistakes. Make more mistakes. Make louder mistakes.

Celebrate imperfection and find beauty in this moment, as it is. This is ruling your world, as Sakyong Mipham calls it. The ability to rise from your own ashes and be here now, embodied and awake, apologizing to no one. A royal mess. A monarch of your own confusion and your own partner, lover and saint. Standing in the darkness we are privy to a light so bright, the universe can’t help but notice. The light of compassion. And, eventually taming our wild heart, we find in time the method for birthing the spirit from the wood without dampening the flame.

To me, this is the power of meditation. Especially Vajrayana. And Bowie practiced this. The transmutation of pain into power. The releasing of spirit in order ease the suffering of the world. Sit erect facing the flames, settle down to earth to open, accept, and simply breathe until we have distilled pure wisdom. Our costume body, like a bell jar allowing the flame to focus into clear light as we sit and sit and compose a personal opus that lights the world. And when we take a seat there, we are the cracked actor on the stage of now. An actor portraying the monarch, creating a part as it unfolds in complete synchronization with the moment. Our moment. Did we create ourselves, or are we created? Do we set trends, follow them, or die beneath them? We are well beyond simple explanation. All of us. A product of mistakes so great we can only fall forward.

But David danced across stones that would have fell another. He rose to his occasion, took a seat and made a difference.

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