non sum dignus ut intres sub tectum meam,
sed tantum dic verbo et sanabitur blog meam.
( McCabeSaidWhat [at] gmail [dot] com )
Your jasmine body shrugs a signal to me.
my soul flies against the constraining cage.
now the luck-bird’s shadow is overhead.
i shout, Go away. you are not part of this.
Oh really? says the bird of good and bad
circumstances. you refuse happiness?
you anticipate no troubles?
these wittering worries and wishes
keep human beings apart from the friend.
i want the face itself. as i say that,
the luck-bird goes wild for jasmine.
now the fortune-teller and the enlightened
teacher, the body and the soul,
are as crazed as i am.
rumi
you know that you’ve gotten to the deep end of the internet’s yoga-related reading material when you come across the sentence, “even the smoke from a cigarette can be passed through the anus.”
The grand plan on which the unconscious life of the psyche is constructed is so inaccessible to our understanding that we can never know what evil may not be necessary in order to produce good by enantiodromia, and what good may very possibly lead to evil.
cgj
sophia and the lion
(Source: thedailywhat)
Every little annoyance (for instance suddenly having Middle-aged wild-partying floridian summer-condo neighbors) brings its own delightful windchime umbrella.
My name is Keegan Michael McCabe Hense and this morning the sun looked like a moon behind the clouds.
no game in the field
the i-ching, on new orleans
Bust of the poet.
65x56
On the back of a huge unfinished painting that doesn’t mean anything anymore. Life rolls on.
as i see it, two body-minds exchange symbolic noises
nisargadatta, on conversation
There’s always moonlight on the river of blood. 33x46
Ugh, get out of my womb. Finished, finally! And sold, too. For a little too little, but it’ll get me some new canvas at least.
idea
capitalizing the first letter of every sentence is unnecessary and we should stop. it would be better if the capitals came to be used occasionally to indicate vocal emphasis within sentences, since much of the tone of a spoken sentence can be carried in this attribute, and since increasingly so much of our communication is being done without the aid of the voice. this would help sarcasm especially,
e.g. “That’s really smart” vs. “that’s Really smart.”
i need and half-want a monastic period. i have a piece of cardboard that’s bigger than me, a composition plotted for the thing which is complex to a degree that makes me very nervous about my ability to accomplish it, and a feeling that there’s an opportunity to make the painting of it into meaningful spiritual practice in a way that i can’t really explain. and to paint this i can tell that i need to be too much alone. i need to become a ghost, i need to forget myself, i need to be free of the expectations of other people and my fears about what will happen to the relationship if i don’t meet those expectations; fears that masquerade for my conscious mind as concern for the feelings or wellbeing of those whom i love. the selfishness of altruism is a very secret and well-guarded thing.
relationships must be relinquished: this i know. i see a way in which that can be done without devaluing the relationship at all, without losing anything, without pain or malcontent. but it is an unspeakable thing: the words take on too many meanings and capsize halfway to the foreign shore. it’s a recognition that the basic matter of the relationship is love; that all the rest, from date nights to camping trips to years on end when we don’t see each other (all of it, these memories we call “relationship”), is gorgeous incidental clockwork in a thing inconceivable because containing the conceiver. our silly prideful attachment to our little piece of the world, with our ideas of what should or ought to be, causes us to throw fits and wrenches into the thing as we try to steer the cosmos — the entire history and future of the universe — towards some arbitrary personal goal derived from the desire of a moment or a lifetime. but, you know— try tellin’ that to your girlfriend.
this is all just talking out loud. it may not be time for this painting to happen, and the true lesson here is still inside me like a broken arrow: there is nothing i can hope to change but myself, and changing myself is changing the world.
