pre-dathun: unpacking

I'm going crazy. Time is a simultaneity; the stone dropped in the calm pool creates ripples moving forward and backward, lapping back to center once bounced off the shore. I'm already on retreat; my mind is showing itself to me in the spontaneous perspicacity of my actions. I keep stepping forward into opportunity, all caution catabatic. Each moment of self-reflection in which I am stunned dumb by my audacity. Whose? What?

I'm already on retreat: I touch my heart and start sobbing with the feeling I've resumed from where I left off five days from now. I feel my body in the clenching depth of it and perceive no difference in how she feels from orgasm from convulsive laughter. Sobs/laughter/coming birth/sex/death.

I'm already on retreat: I feel each hug as if I want it to last forever; I melt into the other feeling body/heart/mind flicker discontinuously then merge past the typical resistance. Sweetness pervades the meeting of lips, the sharing of breath. In the space between breaths I hear the clack and rattle of sound/noise/music/movement making to the wrathful fierce protectors (devour them/me with ferocious delight). No one speaks of the pain of the Vows, but I recognize the glimpse/grimace of it in the undertone of humor/pain in DPR's voice. Can I really do that? Or is the fortunate circumstances of this lifetime enough to show me that I have already done that, that the vow is merely reaffirming what was said long ago? This life is so good; the sweetness kills me. The more love I receive, the more I have a soul-deep responsibility to give.

I'm already on retreat: I've fallen in love, breath in air, a jigger into the sea. I yearn to dive into the brine up to my nostrils, savor the scent and taste of you. Let you go when it's time, but oh sweet, not just yet? Hook into me, catch and release. Fetch me out into ecstatic evocation; say my name.

I'm already on retreat: my appetite has shrunk, my sense of alcohol and other intoxicants has shifted; all altered states of consciousness evoke the desire to practice. My guts in particular are squirmish at indulgence, meat tastes of blood unconscionably spilt. With each whiff of ego's usual selfish aims I feel a nausea, vertigo, unable to stand. I cannot continue forward in this broken way, applying salves to a wound insatiable.

Brokenheartedness. Loneliness. Sadness. No way out of this. No solution to the basic human situation. Still, I chase it but the chasing continually fails to satisfy.

Thorn-pierced, ravaged bleeding and flaming heart of yours/mine, open, sun-scorched and wind-seared. Love is most true when freely given, beyond the edge of grasping.

Some reminders from Reggie:

1. Stay in your body
• Don't worry about other people
• Don't care about what others think
• Be very independent
• You are on your own
• Don't look to others
2. Stay in your practice
• if you are a cool, thinking person, be you
• don't try to be someone else.
3. Stay true to yourself, no matter what
• Listen to your inner voice, be who you are
• Do the work and REALLY be who you are
• No one will ever really understand you.
4. The dharma is truly is about outrageous openness
• 99% of the journey is clearing the space
  
5. Whatever is happening to you is the trustworthy thing
• You have to completely trust your own experience

I'm going crazy, but I'm willing to trust it. But can I ask you to trust me in that?