Until that day

Heart thumping in my head,
Sometimes my feet tingle.
My numb hands hold tightly in regret
If only I could just…


There’s nothing else to do,
Just the waiting game.
My friends are the raindrops
While the smiling assassin passes onwards on the waves.

Until that day,

The feeling screeches like a chalk
Dragged slowly over its board,
Stitching, Scratching,
Relentless, until it becomes a part of you.

Until that day,

I’m clinging to my chrysalis
Routines and creature comforts,
Keep me human,
Help me find my way again

To the blank slate

That gives me comfort
When I can feel it
Giving reason to the thumping,
That I can hold if I can make it,
That I might find
And meet my maker.

Until that day,

A smiling swallow limps
Through the valley of grey
To the end light
Where the wind carves
Around a Lotus Flower.

 

 

Change

Hours lost their meaning to me

Time just moves like a blur or light and dark

This doesn’t mean that I don’t remember

the shoulds or the shouldn’t’s

no, they eat at my soul, my belly.

But

I suppose it’s just about keeping going

Self knowing, sometimes when possible

as long as the heart is beating

and one can listen to the sound of the rain

beating down roof and the windows

Then it seems like

everything is alright

 

There are pick me ups

then the inevitable falls

The less the better

although the sharing does count for something

you know

when it’s better

to be clean and warm and dry, it’s not real.

Resisting the waves,

noone ever really wins

we all wash up on the shore,

with our memories,

becoming the skeletons in our closets,

 

The taste of joy one day in our mouths

one day becomes blood

Yet we never really live like that,

Like the little things now would ever really leave,

Gods granted,

Not until we lose, that

is, only the emptiness speaks fully.

Just remember the day of our births

the blur of indifferent curiosity,

the way it was,

it changed.

 

And do we ever change

really

Integrate

Find the pieces

of your heart

That make you more

than the sum of your

parts

 

The One Path

to Anything

Everything

is under the nose’

and makes us breathless

 

I’m called by surfaces

they sing me

songs of pleasure

 

I run and run

sometimes I listen

getting caught in the pleasure prison

 

Measurable length

and width

We’re in a prism

 

Becoming what we love and hate

Giving over to focus,

re-membering

to spirit

or geography

 

Awareness is the division

of the north and the south

away from here

 

Wanting Feeling

for the wear and tear

for the body

for the people hurt

for the people helped

typical of Humans

 

Caught in a net of shadows

unaware of the true nature

delusions of

self grandeur

dribbling

through the cracks of the fortress

 

Now breaking the fortress to let it in

Realising that

I was born in sin

Things, Eyes, and their Brows: Cycles #1

What a wonderful world.

Bright fields and

Sunlight glazing

The grass and yellow flowers

Like supernovas

Splattered in a nebula.

 

Kids that will

One day turn to

Adults, their parents

Beating the drum,

Under and Over

 

The cycle is the weed and the apple tree.

 

Think

The line of the world

Of time going

Lineward

Into
Where?

 

Travelling anywhere,

Surfing a nervous curve back into itself,

because, because, because

What-ever

Else?

 

As a child I would hold onto

Ideas of heaven and the bestest places

Licking Icecream

With no bottom

Of the Icecream

Or the Cone.

 

Then the Blue Dolphin Swam

Mum and I

Meeting Monty,

Bestest of Friends,

We jumped to the stars on a trampoline

Battling Evil, the night away

 

Then the Morning comes,

Obviously

Ripping me from former worlds

The morning

Same as before

I, different

Others left behind or something…

The world is now greyer than before

Creation deleted and guarded

by others

 

These are the cycles

that keep us us.

 

Many wondering faces,

Smiling Sadness,

from grey into black

into red through to yellow

into green floors and brown trees

Then tables and chairs

and the glare of the top lights.

The Colours always continue

To find us holding our brows like shields

And wonder.

 

We seek the art of the beholder

and his eye

or her eye

or whatever it is

We see now, these

Eyes.

Beholders

and the like.

 

Things, Eyes, and their Brows.

 

Everything is Everything

and I’m letting go now.

 

-Ben

Articulating the Self.

Articulation.

Most of us don’t articulate ourselves with ease. We all want to be listened to and heard. However most of us aren’t.

To articulate is to be focused, and to be distinct. Articulation is to bring the articles of your being into light.

 

 

The feeling that one gets when one watches and listens to those who stand for what they believe in – Those who speak from a place of truth, these poets, these icons -nThe goosebumps are stimulated, the eyes widened, the feeling of rising in your stomach.

Watch those who you love to watch talk. And watch those of whom you love the sound of their voices. They touch us. They move us.

How can we smile with our full beings from your heart to the tip of your head if we cannot articulate ourselves? We cannot, because we are full already with tension.

We hold our feelings back with the tensions in our chest, neck, and jaw. To articulate ourselves we must let our vibrations move, and in turn we shall move others.

The reason that we do not articulate our feelings is because we make ourselves smaller in order not to be seen. We fill ourselves up with stoppages; ‘I shouldn’t say that.’ or ‘Be quite, don’t speak.’ We block ourselves.

I challenge you to be seen – as I am challenging myself now. Give away the blocks that stop you from being heard, let them go.

Loosen your jaw, let it talk you.

‘A leader gives articulation to the imagination of the population.’ – Dr Jordan Peterson

 

-Ben

The Way to Learn Skills

Skills within Skills within Skills. They are progressive, they are meticulous. A conscientious individual will find themselves with more than they came for if one continuous to practice in this way.

My Sifu once told me: ‘When you practice one technique, you are practicing them all’.

This is true of any skill. When you are learning a skill correctly, developing yourself in this area of your life, it has a cascading ripple effect onto the other areas of your life.

The approach that I have taken recently has been one of the slow and diligent learning of each individual technique that is presented to me to learn. Take the time to get each one perfect.

For example, my foremost martial art is Practical Wing Chun Kung Fu. During training, the temptation is to try and learn the most fancy and complex move possible. First and foremost this is because it looks cool, and feels ninja’y. However, those in class who really flourish at the martial art are those who take the time to practice the basics as if they were the end goal. They practice them as if they were hallowed, perfecting each tiny adjustment in order to have great structure and great power generation. They always are in the perfect shape and the advantageous position.

This approach to learning yields results. I would invite you to give it a try… To learn your piano scales as if they were the handling of a baby. As if each note required precision and great care; perfectly placed

This may take a week of practicing for 1-2 hours a day, but you continue in your daily practice once or twice a day when you have the chance, and you will get to a point of proficiency and ease. The scales will be in your hands. Now it is time for you to practice faster. When you get a note wrong, then you slow down a bit and work with mindfulness of this structural weakness in your skill… When you get it flowing with ease, you may speed it up more.

Then you move on to the next progression from the scale and apply the former into your music… Musical progressions.

‘Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice perfect.’ – Vince Lombardi

-Ben

For those that are lost…

Write. Speak. Jump up and down.

It’s mad how long we can travel down the same path of fogginess. We are just floating through nowhere, from nowhere, and we goddamn hate it!

I challenge you to write. Just do it.

Writing changes everything. When you write it is as when you speak to others that you trust. You let go of the tensions that you are holding inside of yourself, you are letting it splurge out onto the paper. The act of letting yourself make the connection of your mind to the paper or the screen or whatever you use, it is going to shift your energy outside of yourself. If you successfully make this connection, this transition of energy, then this trapped energy will be unleashed onto the page, and you will find in your connection and your internal response to this energy the answers to your questions.

One must look at this energy, these words, with the advising eye of a best friend. Treat this energy truthfully, for it is you. Observe yourself! Watch your thoughts, your posture, your responses. First and foremost, feel your reaction to this watching. Do not let yourself be caught up in what one should or should not think, but allow yourself to see as if there were no right and wrong, only what is and is not. Let your response to this connection teach you of yourself. Let your response to your watching and listening teach you of your truth.

Now if you have not already found your way via these teachings, then seek inspiration. Seek those who inspire you, those who light a fire inside of you, who excite you! Those that you find yourself almost jumping out of your chair when spending time with. And again remember and understand through your responses, that the teachings that you will take from them is not what they tell you your internal response to their stance. Your patterns are your teachers.

The guidance that you receive from those that inspire you is the practice that you can practice in order to find your way.

Know this: that it is in the practice that you shall find your ground. Your internal response to the (consistent!) practice of this guidance will tell you what you need to know, and once you know that, you will be on your way.

 

‘The art is in the doing of it’ -Sandy Meisner

– Ben

The Truth

I wander streets in the night, I do. I practice kung fu under the street lights at the end of a dark road at quarter to 2.

Sometimes I thought I had it all figured out.

Swivelling between knowing and unknowing the point of the universe and all of its problems.

It’s a feeling and it comes up deep from my balls and my gut, and my head opens as if it was the same as everything else all along.

Talking about it sometimes, people think I’ve gone crazy. I feel it never occurred to them that I’ve seen something that possibly they haven’t.

It’s true that it’s selfish, but I struggle to see where else I can start other than from the self.

Or maybe the cork popped up in the old brain and I’m now a walking liability.

I don’t know.

I think about words sometimes. Trying to figure out why and where from. My need for insecurity rearing its little nose.

Liability: The ability to lie.

Sometimes I feel like I want to die. It sinks quickly from the high of fullness, down to the low of lost.

I miss the old days that never were, and I miss the opportunity for a life in a fantasy kingdom imagined by writers in a writing room.

I sometimes feel like a ripple a pond. Sometimes I feel like a grain of sand at the bottom of an ocean.

The way the world is looking scares me and I don’t know what to do about it… Is it the feeling or the world?

I love myself, and I hate myself too.

And I get confused about who ‘myself’ is every day.

My back aches from the weary neglect of hours at gyms in the night. And the sweat of anxiety linger as scars to today.i

It’s easy to forget that there is nothing to lose in telling the truth.

-Ben

When tired of Dancing…

It will always be this way,

This moment,

This happening now,

The moment in which you feel.

The choice is a dichotomy

To notice

Or not to notice.

If one notices

One see’s that feelings are neither

Good or Bad…

Feelings just are.

I promise

It will get better.

And then worst

And then better again.

That’s the game

The roller coaster

The dance.

I asked the other to dance with me,

Later I realised

That it was already dancing,

All of this time, dancing,

And I was a part of it.

One wonders whether life is about

Fighting or loving.

But they both live in one another.

Fighters love,

and lovers fight.

On the best of days it should never end,

On the worst of days it should end now,

The balance is always kept.

The thing

Is that no thing is alone.

Can we let our feelings be our teachers

And dance with them

Wherever they may be?

-Ben

‘The earth has music for those who listen’ – William Shakespeare

Universe

I the Universe explore myself

I can see myself through many eyes

Green trees and colourful flowers

And rage and pain and all of the things

Supple I play with shapes and lights

And smiles and giggles and places and nights

However could I find myself tired of this game

When there is so much to me

To explore and to name

I the universe explore myself

Aren’t I lucky

-Ben

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