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Saturday, March 31, 2018

GOD COMES THROUGH THE WOUND



        "Illumination comes... through the space created
by your psychic insecurity"... ie: abandonment
complex... becomes the pearl in the half-shell... the
space through which the angels come... the jagged
hole in the chapel wall... allows... the glorious pink
fingers... the purest white chaste light of humility,
prayer and forgiveness... the white chapel sun light
of the forgiving love of God.... the law - creates the
pain, like the sand- the pearl, out of pain... and
the wound creates the space necessary, the crack
through which the dawn comes, and Maitreya, and 
the returning Christ... the light of whom even now is
a suggestion of purple out of twilight... the hint of the
dawn of the new age which transcends this base
period, Iron Age, Kali Yuga, age of doubt and
material grasping... out of this wound and pain
out of which blossoms tearful kneeling prayers 
and need for that which is beyond our powers
to come and peck at the crack in our psyches
like a mother bird does to the eggshell both
protecting and confining her baby... she breaks
open the crack.... lets in the light... out of the
crack in the eggshell ego comes the annihilation
of the shell... complete removal of confining
protection... and if the psychic space is there,
the tears and the need for prayer.... Grace will come
like a rain of forgiving light more chaste and pure
than anything you could have imagined.... and in
this divine forgiveness, this holy welcome... you
see where you are as you step out across the infinite
galactic spaces - you have come home.
        And all the Universe and Mind and Eye and
heart and soul of Soul of God overflows within you
with its blessed greeting of forgiveness... and you see...
for the first time... with eyes washed clean and
made new... that all the cosmos is your bed
and pillows, and the milky way your blanketing
warmth, and the holy blossoming fountain of eternal
truth is your comforter. For you are home... and
you know now your true identity - and you are not who 
you thought you were. And you are glad. For you are
deathless as the spring.
       The wound of your early life, the bane of your
adolescence, the pain of your earlier maturity... all
have been necessary and useful so that you could
hurt sufficiently that you would seek... and lift your
head and climb the tree at the heart of the world -
all for this - that you may see the Time of Morning.








(C)1990-2018 by W.G. Milne/ Walker Ballantine





Sunday, March 25, 2018

MY FRIEND, TERRY ODD, PASSED OVER TO THE OTHER SHORE RECENTLY




        Terry Odd, a friend of mine, crossed over to the other side recently. I don't know how it happened, but I'll find out soon.

             What do I want to say other than: "God bless you, Terry?" You and I have been to some weird and wonderful places and situations together...
              ...  things that no one else will believe
now that you have gone along - and so now I have no proof.
              
             I promise to relate all these tales to you, dear reader, but this is just a short statement
of love and loss.
              
            One essential thing I have to say right now is: in many of these circumstances Terry and I laughed together, laughed deep and hard,
laughed until we fell to our hands and knees with tears in our eyes, gasping.

          Like seeing that one cow in the herd all the other cows avoided like the plague, and she waggled her head back and forth in the weirdest way. And her tongue hanging out of her mouth in the most ungainly and comical fashion.
        After smoking a big one, that is... there was nothing funnier... 

        Though I had to wrap a chain around her heels five days later and drag her with a tractor past the gravel pit into the swamp out back... way out back. There was nothing funny about that.

         Terry used to say he was odd by name and odd by nature, and that was true all right. He's also a very funny man.

         Now I suppose you're meeting the folks in God's other kingdom. He counts the circle of our days.


          God bless you, my friend. Travel well.





          I'll meet you next time around.

          Thank you for the fun we had and the joy
we shared under the open sky.






Tuesday, March 20, 2018

ONLY LOVE MAY STAY THE SAME





What lasts, when everything else passes away?


Strength passes. Virility passes, however many midlife crisis panics men go through, however many bright red hot sports cars fat & balding middle-aged men buy...

It's hard to accept. But everything passes away.

It's one of the reasons for humility.

I recorded this with Clayton Alexander Johnson and Dougie Johnson above the Zazibar Strip Palace at 3:00A.M. in the morning.


IN THIS WORLD THOUGH EVERYTHING
   MUST CHANGE
           YOU KNOW THAT ONLY LOVE
MAY STAY THE SAME


(C)1980-2018 by W.G. Milne

All rights reserved.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

GREYHOUND BUS mpeg 4




I was singing and playing music with the band each week on Toronto stages. The band was
JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS.

 I'd often go to the north to see some rivers and mountains and clifftops where I'd built a hut with a woodstove in it for shelter.
         Often I'd hop the midnight bus for passage. And I'd take the 2:00AM bus back in four or five days. I have a lot of memories of those buses in the dark.
          This is where I wrote this song.

Note:  This is my folk singer's voice. In front of a six man band I kinda had to howl. This voice would not be heard in front of a full band. When you're singing loudly - your voice rises up an octave.
            I miss this voice.

"AND THAT GREYHOUND BUS ROLLS ON
AS SOON AS IT ARRIVES, IT'S GONE
AND THROUGH THE LEAVES I SEE
       THE DAWN
TURN TO LIGHTS OF NEON,
AS THAT BUS MOVES ON."





(C) 1987-2018 by W.G. Milne

Monday, March 12, 2018

PASSAGES FROM PASSAGES

x


I left the city and took "the narrow path to the deep north".

 In the north I built a cabin out of oak logs on top of a 150 foot cliff. 

In that cabin I worked on clarifying the meaning of some of the texts found at

Nag Hammadi, Egypt, 1945.
Most times when I have difficulty with a passage, the sunlight would pour through. 
On a cloudy day, the skies would open and the passage would write itself.
Once I was working by a campfire in the bush at night, and I was totally stifled.
A passage in the Gospel of Philip had me stumped. I was staring into the campfire
and couldn't do a thing. After a few moments the Northern Lights descended
and the woods lit up all around me, and the passage basically finished itself.
No further thought went into the matter. The pen just wrote.
Later I was wondering whether I had imagined the whole thing. But I had
a visitor in the cabin, and she came running out and said, "The cabin just got
really bright."
This sort of thing was not a rare occurance, but happened frequently.
Many different kinds of experience struck me as not merely odd, but
certainly a sign of Divine Intelligence within all things.
                                          *
Through Realization. or Revelation, or Satori, Enlightenment,
the Knowing of the early Christian Gnostics, through this Experience
which is fundamentally the same in all cultures, "identity" becomes
"Identity" and the seeker becomes One with God. Through an annihilation
of the ego, an implosion occurs which destroys the shell of the egg,
and the mystic achieves spiritual maturity. This is by no means
an easy process.
What we have forgotten, because we have been lead astray, is this:
it is not the name that is important. All our holy men have been murdered;
our heros have been slaughtered, because of names. These holy ones
would be horrified and enraged if they knew their names
are being used for such hellish purposes!

The very names of our holy men have been used as a 

justification

for slaughter! Also our names for God. In the name of Christ,

in the name of Allah, in the name of Krisna, we kill each others' children.
Then distracted, we allow those who have lied to us for thousands of years,
those who are aligned with Power and Greed, we allow them to fool us again -

Don't be blinded by names - don't be led astray. 

Allow the name of God to be nameless. "I AM THAT I AM"

 is a good nameless name,

         Or: THE ONE WHO IS CREATING US.

Creation never takes place in the past tense. 

It is a continuous birthing.

I sometimes us the phrase: "THE TRUE ONE" because no names attach to it.

*


The Lord of light cannot be invoked. His grace is like the wind;
it goes where it wishes. When Grace fills you,
the room seems to lighten up a bit. Other people notice it, too,
that the room has brightened. Suddenly your are filled with
love and confidence. We can all be mystics.

 

*
The answer is to take the energy of anger and use it as fuel

for meditation. Take the fuel of this rage and

 look within to the new country of the soul, the pure

land where men cease from grasping.

Look within and see until the mirror appears,
the mirror that is no mirror, but is the eye through which
you see God. And God sees you also through the same mirror,
and you know and you are known. The two become one,
the division between you and God disappears.
The One Light shines eternally,
and will forever shine within true men and women the world over.

There are many pathways to One Place. 

It is simple.

Do not be confused by names. Your duty is the Holy
Quest to your soul, to that which you have always been,
even before your parents were born.
I asked God one time, "What am I?" God answered in a loud Voice,
"You are an empty vessel." 
It is through this empty vessel
that I write to you these words.



(C)2018 BY W.G. Milne

Friday, March 9, 2018

NO Where To Go But Where You Are



This is a song I wrote while hitchhiking across Canada - from Toronto to the west coat of  Vancouver Island, to taste and have a dip in the Pacific Ocean - then back eastwards on a northern route across the prairies and into north western Ontario, then into Quebec... Cibougamau  (sp?)
Chicutami, then down through Quebec City, down the Gaspe... then all the way up to Sidney and over
onto the Rock where I did a performance in a fish cleaning place...
          Then back west again to Toronto and North Bay... back to the bush and my hut in the wood.
           I left out a lot of places... the entire trip was somewhere around 10,000 miles. After a while, I didn't care whether I caught a ride or not. I just that whatever happened, no hurry anymore, no destination.
          It was enough to be where I was. I'd lean back against a highway sign and take notes. That's
when I wrote this song, with this attitude.

          Of course, it didn't take long before I wanted to go to a bar somewhere, but you get the idea:

NOWHERE TO GO BUT WHERE YOU ARE 


      Hope you enjoy.






Song -  (C) 1990-2018 by W.G. Milne
Video and photo-art  (C) 2018 by KLGE

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

BELLS - a poem

bells
____


Behind me
the sound of windbells
in a wisp of wind


no, I'm mistaken,
it is the bell
at the train  tracks;
a wooden arm falls
blocking cars


no, it is the ringing
of the churchbells;
to drive away demons


ah, it is the silence
of my father's spirit
ringing


then silence
ringing
in my mind


a soul
who visits me.




                                                                          W.G.Milne
                                                                           North Bay
                                                                            July 28/09
                                                                              1:48P.M.

                                                                                 Nearing midsummer

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

THE BEAUTIFUL AND PAINFUL DANCE WE DO IN ORDER TO AWAKEN


        The beautiful and painful dance we do in order to awaken.

        People scattered in all directions, looking for something... looking for a transporting love.

        The expanding of love beyond desire. *


                                        *

        from The School for Mystics

        Find a place of power.

        A place where you are balanced and grounded and you can feel the energy
of the earth and rock rise up through
you.

        There are places where the northern
lights will dance in a circle above you -
often a high land or cliff between two
descending water courses - a river to the
east, a river to the west.
        Or a place above and between two
canyons.
         You'll know the place when you find
it. It ought to be free of distractions. The
place could even be indoors, so long as
you are grounded there.
         Do "River-Watching Meditation" **
and see what arises within you. Never
try to still the mind - rather watch what
passes by in the river within you.

         Until you are comfortable with a
breathing emptiness, focus perhaps
on a saying that holds your attention,
such as:

DISCERN THE SIZE OF THE WATER

 
                             or

IN THE BEGINNING IS THE WORD

                            or

THE BEAUTIFUL AND PAINFUL DANCE
 WE DO IN ORDER TO AWAKEN


This is the first step in a long journey.


When I speak of the moment of Realization,
it is also the moment of Knowing, the moment
of Gnosis.

Monopolized Christianity of the Empire Church
never speaks of the necessity of a Quest. In all other religions a journey of sorts is necessary.
Call it an inner journey, if you wish.
        Space is not the final frontier. The final frontier is the Mind within. It is deeper than the ocean; it is more vast than the galaxies. It
is the journey to Home.







*T.S. Eliot

** I've written of this type of meditation
     elsewhere. I'll locate it and post it here.





(C)2018 by W.G. Milne