Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance. It is a day to remember those who were murdered for having the courage to be who they are.
Here is a token to all transgender people, my people, a haiku in memoriam of your beautiful lives where you have had the bravery to find yourselves and to seek to reflect the inner in the outer.
You join a long list of people killed for being themselves. Every cultural, political, gender, religious, sexual, racial, condition, and national label that has caused you to be discriminated, assaulted, or killed is one of the deepest shames of humanity.
To have the courage to continue to pave the way for a humanity that is just and enlightened is now our burden.
I am that I AM.
Beyond all labels and names,
I see me in you.
Koyote the Blind
To really destroy the ego would be as useful as destroying the body, intelligence, creativity, language, etc. The ego is a construct we create to navigate and experience this world. Why get rid of it—eve if such a thing could be functionally possible? No, the ego is a magnificent tool. We must learn to use it well. The key, unlike many falsely teach, is not to destroy it, and not even to weaken it.
The key is to make it an efficient, well crafted, strong, and equilibrated tool. To do this, you must not let the ego be the boss of you. It is a part of you and your tool. The ego that ignores the master is unbalanced, afraid, and out of control. Train it well, keep it healthy and strong, and it will be a worthy avatar to your earthly experience.
Nothing is permanent.
Not even death.
Life runs out.
Death runs out.
Ignorance runs out
when I realize the eternal truth of the eternal empty void;
and the experience of enlightenment and the dissolution of illusion also end
with the forgetting of the illusion.
Samadhi ends with the stirring of experience.
Unending chain: a cosmic breath between creation and dissolution.
The long night of Brahma.
The eternal dance of the empty void
and her beloved, the stirring of the experience.
Language is the filter through which we engage with reality.
The I who thinks is therefore the measure of all things. Yet, the “I” implied in every sentence as the speaker is only a feature of language.
The linguistic I hides the noumenal I.
I am Not.
The endeavor of philosophy is to come to the end of thought, to be able to burst through the fogginess of mind into the silence––the nothingness. If we understand this, we would know that out of this silence, no question comes. The question is the result of a confrontation with the silence, with death. The question can be the result of fear, the mind attempting to cover the silence with chatter, or it can be an attempt to become awake in the silence. And if one knows this difference, truly, one can perhaps come to a liberation from the trap of the mind.
I want to say
To those lazy students,
(walking out from school and raining on Washington)
To this uncaring egotist youth,
(speaking against the dangers all face)
To the snowflake generation of pampered cowards,
(mobilizing united against the murderous gun makers,
the cowardly law makers for sale, puppets of the NRA,
and crime spree of hate fed by our government)
I want to say…
We failed to make this world safe for you.
We got distracted with reality shows, with stupid banter, and cynicism.
We kept shouting “Fake News”, and “Build that wall”, and “It’s the homeless fault.”
We shouted so hard we couldn’t hear the bullets.
We were so blind we couldn’t see the color of your blood.
It’s up to you now.
Discern the voice of your spirit.
Learn to think for yourself, don’t wait for us to teach you.
Speak up… and listen to yourself.
Observe… and remember.
Survive… and vote.
Stay woke… and live.
—Koyote the Blind
From the point of view of neurology, as soon as the baby begins to acquire motor skills and focus their eyes, their brain begins to trim. There are neural connections that cut themselves off. In that cutting off, we begin to bring our attention into this world; to be able to perceive things as separate and distinguish shapes, heights, duration, space, color. Without that trimming, everything that the organism can perceive would be perceived and nothing will be distinguished. So, there is a trimming that happens there, and part of that trimming of our neural system is what culture does with language.
Then, over that language, many things are programmed: llike belief systems, like agreements of what is good and what is bad, what is acceptable and what is not. And then over that series of values we build identities: democrat, republican, Argentinian, Mexican. From those we define our personal identity: “This is me,” “That’s not my family,” “I am not like that,” “I am like this.” But we don’t realize the layers of soil that we use to build that sense of self.
There’s a story about the arrival of Spanish ships to the New World. What the Indians saw first in the island of San Salvador was the small canoe you drop from the ship to get to shore. Because there is no port, they settle in the shore and send small rowboats. They were amazed by the workmanship of the row boat; the way that it was constructed was so strange, and the technology unknown to the natives. While commenting on the strangeness of that boat they overlooked the huge caravelle in the background. There was nothing in their worldview to point to that. This is a phenomenon often encountered in shamanic voyaging, where the thing that is huge and in your face you don’t see, because you’re looking at what is known. This is the Face Of God (FOG), which is right here on your face; always touching you. And you don’t see God because you see the illusion of the world. You create the idea of God as something remote. So you don’t see God, because God takes the shape of whatever is in front of you. Or that beast which is the Dreaming. You only see the dream, not the beast which is the Dreaming.
If I say “I am hungry,” the “I” which is hungry is a product of that language which differentiates between you and me. Isn’t it the case that when I say “I am hungry” that “I” in that context is different from the one that says “I am koyote” and from “I did not hear what you said”? Each I is a different entity, new each time it is uttered. Only the illusion of language supposes this I exists somewhere inside me and is saying and hearing things. The one that listens is also just a product of what is being said; what is being grasped. As the I who utters ceases, the I who listens ceases. Yet something remains. And what remains makes no distinction between the utterance and the listening and the reality, perhaps the difference exists only in the language which was discarded like a snakeskin.