I lay out there drifting weightlessly somewhere in empty space surrounded by the darkness of the universe Floating on nothing Lost in nothing I and my thoughts Unimaginably alone, — solely Unsad, content, clueless Too distant even to the nearest star Immersed in timelessness About 1:53 am in the feel The past an ashen memory No smoldering feelings I see my future winding through an echoing passage tiled with absorbing pictures turned into movies They distract consistently I am confronted with a view at the end A lookout point into future space, unlike anything I could ever conceive Visible is an indeterminately gigantic, colorful, spoked wheel of dimensions At the hub, where all dimensions meet: the bright center of fertility The source of anything, known also as nothing Close together here unfathomably far apart further out It is all so clear now: In order to keep on floating, I must stay lost and I must stay in a state of not-knowingness That is pure freedom, unbound from existence My only way back to source From this virgin source of nothing I can follow any spoke leading to any dimension Each dimension is another universe Probably entirely unimaginable from our reality As I engage thus I become un-lost in my new knowingness Now I am bound again I don't drift towards a new future I am the new future ...soon to become the newest past and be lost and clueless once more Drifting, floating, clueless, lost in nothing Towards a new future
I don’t know what and when
It is all hidden in my pen
Memories of forgotten days
are mixed with fears
of future’s ways
And even if the sun shines bright
I might not realize that it’s light
The darkness just like fire spreads
The night is glowing cold, the black I dread
This is the story of my plight
A mind so bent a crumbled string looks straight
Nothing, clueless, lost, I wait
Sometimes my dreams dream that I elevate
another force inside then subjugates
I’m told my worries are man made
The coffee cold, unshaven, and the purse deplete
A worn old shirt that screams of ironing that it needs
A figure sculpted by the thoughts the mind conjures
and by all events that life endures
Continuously I seek and seek
In this reality the hundred meters that I see
must stretch out of necessity
beyond that mark towards my ecstasy
unless I cannot choose my destiny
But, how then could I be me
Why am I stuck as if I’m planted like a tree
Forever in one place, I cannot flee
When I was born what words were put into my crib
“Go sail the seas but finally we sink your ship”
In the clouds I want to be eternally
A told me that I should be B
C told me that I should be D
Eventually then when I was E
They screamed and said I must be G
I turned around and went to P
Flashed them a sign reversed the T
Now I’m the Cuban Susans Whoman He
Nothing, clueless, lost without a key
I am sinking in some sea
To the water I will eventually return
Humans decided that I needed to burn
So hot even my soul in smoke evaporates
Escaping from these dire straits
I will not be put behind some other gates
Spill me, let me take another turn
I couldn’t sleep for thoughts of you Morning, feelings, cold and dew Everything was just so fine Clueless, lost that was my crime Nothing in my dark lit up Thoughts of you kept coming but the loneliness kept holding tight This opponent was my lifelong fight Seldom happiness would have a say All the vivid colors turned to gray Forsaken in my ice age day by day A cul-de-sac, a dead end stop I would rant and rave until I dropped Nothing changed, it wasn’t meant to be Even my dreams and wishes couldn’t set me free Some force was negating, maliciously intent a life of accomplishment and content I bargained till my beard turned white the other one just laughed at this my plight You could have cashed your soul for fun and lived a life of sin and some he even mentioned that my soul was worth a bit he’d talk to Karma even Hades could be skipped Then he left for he had other things to do I should call him if I'd feel I’m through In between he came around telling me I wasn’t sound I should think about a deal Rap it up and put a seal What’s the point when nothing works and your days are filled with hurt Life’s too short to live in pain All agree that is a shame and there’s no one here to blame But who was he who tempted so What energy did make him grow I made him up that much I know therefore why can’t I let him go Worry, fear, and disillusionment helped in his establishment Sunshine, love, and laughter will destroy his term as master To beat him at his game and bring happiness again my entire life I searched for you questioning exhausted if you could be true often clueless, lost, I lived through years of rue and spent much time talking to the stars with tears hoping that someone might open up their ears My angels came a running, just before it was too late They called the wind to blow a storm and change my fate You greeted me and we knew before a word was spoken that we had scars from many places we were broken Even now I do recall the times alone when my thoughts run away from home and I dig in places dark and drown forgetting all the joy you've brought and everything I ever sought There was no crime and no disorder Clueless, lost, I crossed the border Deep I sank into some feelings fleeing from my heart and being till you came along and stroked me with your song Finally, my life is mine to shine There never was a crime.
A ginger cat called Flash slinks through my garden regularly ignoring me as if I am vapour.
It’s four in the morning and I sit at my desk and thinks.
The streetlamp across the road is in a forty-five second on/off cycle.
Suddenly, poof, I have found an answer.
The answer is the SUN.
However, all the other questions I have, sadly, remain stubbornly unanswered. Two things generally happen to me: Either I am flooded with opinions or drowned in silence.
Instead, I really want to be surrounded by clarity and then engage with resolve.
I think that if I separate myself into an infinite number of parts it should be easier to become part of the whole, go with the flow and emerge with the answers.
To do that I cease thinking. Now I am not. The ‘I’ becomes an ‘It’ without an ego attached or a particular outcome expected.
I realise quickly that if this was the way it should be I would be a brainless grain of sand on a beach or a rock. After all, I am only one in a few billion not a googol gazillion. I’m special. Although…from a uni/multiversal point of view I’m so small making out I’m such a big deal, and in competition to the dumb universe, that my brain blows a fuse every time I try comprehending just a bit of this magnitude.
I start thinking again and I decide to ignore stuff like the Brexit.
I always wanted to live on an island and I trusted the wisdom of age to make visionary decisions and not create a dystopia. I just revised that.
Some things are so stupid they stick out like a grumbly square wheel with a puncture.
Democracy: a 49% – 51% guillotine; a really worn out flat tire and no wizzkid, political scientist or other boff rewriting that dusty, outdated bible. Ouch!
I still want to live on an island, but not that one.
I wonder what the sun thinks every day?
Just warm them up and give them life, they’ll come right some time.
Clearly, when you come from a sunny (dis)position, you can make better decisions. You gotta blame it on the weather. It would drive anyone bonkers and vote ‘Exit.’
And, in hindsight, to decide matters of such profound importance and far-reaching consequences during or after a full moon, when the sun is past the solstice and in pouring rain, shows a disconnectedness and ignorance, dare I say arrogance, towards all of nature’s powerful forces.
Now what? Another illusion? More reality?
Nothing, clueless, lost?
Hop on board.
The concept of space, time and matter is an illusion!
I’m dead as far as most physicists are concerned.
Aren’t those the building blocks of a universe?
Isn’t that the foundation of reality?
These learned folk won’t endorse this ludicrous idea of mine. Even less would they want to hear what I have to say.
I can’t provide empirical proof and yet paradoxically my experience and observation is the whole proof.
Science lacks measurability in this area and therefore my statement is probably considered preposterous.
However, the experience that lead me to make this statement above is repeatable at will.
And, it doesn’t require the particle accelerator in Cern, a string of academic accolades or MDM or God.
Here is a synopsis of what I have observed:
I clasp things. I hold on to stuff. I impose my will. I force my way. I control. I want, want, want.
I fret, fear and become disturbed. Dis-ease sets in. I miss the point of my existence.
I buzz around a fictitious lamp till I expire.
Anxiety. Depression. Disappointment. Disillusionment. Darkness. Turmoil.
Nothingness. Cluelessness. Lostness.
During moments of such crude existential confrontation and the resulting confusion, what I need is often very close by.
Maybe even on my bedside table.
I picked up the book ‘Out of my mind,’ by Richard Bach, and just like the first time when I read it I could not put it down.
My meditation the next morning focused on only one thing:
First I let go of the idea that I have to define an outcome. Any outcome. The outcome of my life mostly, when I really boil it down to the bare essential.
I decided to let go of ANY desired outcome in my meditation. Then, secondly, having pushed all expectations aside I observed unclouded what revealed itself.
As I let go of stuff: financial woes, creative block, hangups, karmic debt, material belongings, the devil…, – space, time and matter disappeared.
Suddenly I existed. I came to be. I was ‘without’ and that gave opportunity for me to experience unhindered what could be.
There was no physicality about me. Sure my body still existed, but the ‘beingness’ I experienced was not in the body. I was however not floating in space either.
Undoubtedly, I concluded later, there exists an unmeasurable dimension.
I integrated into a ‘substance’ of invisibility somewhere, where I then ‘became’ when I finally let go. And yet despite this state I was still me. A consciousness existed, like a nucleus without the earthly paraphernalia bogging me down. Not even my name came along so I am not sure now how I was identifiable to myself. But I very clearly was without social security number, passport, avatar, blog etc. etc.
Maybe more than ever I actually was I. Or was I? The sense of individuality that I had in human form was not there. There was no ego but there was a presence. Even though I haven’t any feedback from anyone else experiencing this, I felt a definition of ‘aware beingness.’ On reflecting afterwards I wondered if we all become similar in this state and that this is what ‘divine consciousness’ is about?
I have no idea yet how one makes contact, finds me or joins me when I’m ‘there?’ I don’t even know if such an interaction would still be desirable or necessary?
Perhaps that nonphysical consciousness is just another step towards other existii of myself and other realities in other dimensions?
It was quite apparent that I was still associated/connected with my body to this earthly existence of a reality, because the tune ‘By the Seaside,’ gently brought me back from yonder land.
I can’t even say with any certainty that ‘letting go’ is a sure fire solution of realigning myself in this existence.
I do know that an expansion occurs from this perceived, stuck reality into fantality and, upon returning, there remains the irrefutable knowledge of another beingness and a universe that functions way different to what we expect and have accepted.
I think the point here is not to overthink, rather steady the monkey mind and experience.
Let go and wonder for yourself.
We are clueless and lost and come up with nothing to resolve the issue.
It is the fiasco in the Middle East I am talking about.
Like so many of us, I just don’t want to hear about it anymore.
I am so disillusioned with ‘Talks’ and ‘Coalitions’ and statements of more aggression and increased military action.
I am absolutely stumped that ‘an eye for an eye’ is all the ‘intelligent’ world can come up with to root out this evil that is invading our ‘free’ world.
Endless criticising without proposing a solution is as frustrating to me as any loudmouth shouting.
There are statesmen puppets that will do what their puppeteers decide. Other leaders think they gain stature by tough talk and muscle flexing and violent action. Others again only know how to follow the lead dog(s) or are driven by pain and loss and retaliate in blinding hurt.
But what if psychologists could analyse the weak spots of these offending fanatic fundamentalists and come up with proposals to swing them our way by using subtle means?
What about a ‘propaganda coalition,’ where instead of destructive bombs we drop irresistible temptations on our enemies. With every item we drop we could suggest, – in every language, shape and size, – how good our world is and how screwed up theirs is. We could encourage them to defect and welcome them with open arms, give them jobs, use their skills and will-power and create an awesome future for all of us instead.
In our hatred we think that extermination is the answer. I am sure it is a good feeling to retaliate with all the might of our insane destructive devices. But, we are not solving the issue. The problem is in the minds of those people. We need to address their mind. We have to entice them, weaken their belief and wean them off the breast they falsely believe leads to a blissful world.
We have to work on the psyche of our enemy. How better to do it but to bombard them with information and objects that are certain to sway them in our direction. You cannot tell me that a soldier of the evil forces does not sit down sometimes dreaming of another life: a life of security, enough food, family, fun, peace and happiness. But, we drop bombs and shoot and act like the madmen they are just with a different uniform.
The combined knowledge of humanity: from China to Russia, India, Europe and America can surely come up with a way to defeat this enemy. With so many experts and lateral thinkers a psychological solution, a ‘propaganda assault,’ – bombs filled with sweets and chocolate and delectables and perhaps some wine too, books and notes and electronic devices capturing the imagination of our adversaries, – would surely win us this war?
Those embittered ones left behind will have a broken back and no more power to affect anything.
Why don’t we influence the minds of our foes so they can’t sleep anymore and they are left with one desire: to cross over into our camp and enjoy our lifestyle and our freedom.
Those who get this right are the ones I salute and respect. The rest of the fighting force, – no matter how skilled and versatile these modern gladiators are, targeting lives with their deadly machinery, – they don’t impress me one iota.
I have no clue who makes the dragonfly fly I have no clue why you're reading this or who God's father is and why you cry
I have no clue even when I search desperately I have no clue why you're loving me or what makes me breathe it's all a melody
I have no clue why you're so beautiful I have no clue what put me here or why you're killing me was I unsuitable
I have no clue if life's even real I have no clue why I live in an igloo of pain and why I've lost the fire to relight the flame but for the moments we steal
I have no clue why scars embody infernal suffering I have no clue why i struggle in vain and why I don't even feel any shame puppeteered motions on a string
I have no clue why I flick through screen after screen I have no clue why yesterday's laughs are now dead or why the man with the gun is so bad religion's not mean
I have no clue where ageless finds the fountain of youth I have no clue what it takes for sad memories to flee and my mind is screaming to just let it be running from the truth
I have no clue why my picture froze a moment in time I have no clue why my heart still beats out a rhyme or why not happiness is mine the mirror repeats the same video line
I have no clue why I've run from you and from me I have no clue if there's a raison d'être or why such sweet fruits we share a random event i also could be
I have no clue why my path tears into confusion I have no clue how you forgive and pour love over me I'm missing completely that 'happy to be' a mind full of frantic profusion
Does the waterfall know about a symphony of tears does the music know it's dying in me composing a final tragedy in my crystal of fears
I suppose El Niño and La Niña had a party again. There is not a full bottle in sight.
But alas, there is not just a drought in South Africa, despite the rainy season mixing in its gloomy, overcast, drizzly days. There is a drought in my life too. El Nothing, La Clueless, Lo Lost are wreaking havoc and I can’t say that ‘local warming’ has anything to do with it. All fountains have just about dried up bar the creative one. That seems to be the only one that barely maintains vestiges of sanity. A challenging task indeed.
Some book talks about the ‘seven year drought.’ Sooth sayers even talk about cycles and that misfortune happens in three’s. Well, Nothing-Clueless-Lost is a fearsome threesome. Not the best buddies to hang around with. I’m all cracked-up from this drought like the parched remnants of a once sparkling lake.
Oh give me those rainy days.
Hold on! I actually want sunny days too. Hmm, coming to think of it, I actually need both. But, if nature doesn’t even strike a balance, how am I supposed to? Didn’t we conclude that we are nature?
One think is clear, I actually meant one thing but they are the same: everything in nature happens in cycles. On this planet there is no getting away from it, I have tried. Even if I had an overflowing bank account I would still be exposed to cycles and my money too. If you doubt that then just look at life. It pretty much starts where it ends, – in nothing. That’s another cycle. We are a cycle within a cycle within a cycle probably ad infinitum. Or if that ‘infinite’ idea does not resonate then maybe we are a cycle within that really ‘one’ big cycle, you can call it whatever, like God or something…
Doesn’t a cycle kind of roll?
That would mean that we are never stuck because we are forever cycling.
I could hibernate in a vacuum tube and dig myself really deep away so nothing cycles with me. I guess by doing that I would escape some cycles that beset ordinary folk. But eventually some cycle is bound to get me. I might as well accept the cyclic nature of being-ness. Maybe the more I accept it the faster it will cycle into another cycle. A wave also goes up and down from crest to trough. Everything is energy, energy is frequency, frequency is a wave, a wave is a cycle and a cycle is an up and a down and around again.
I am all dizzy from cycling now.
Enjoy your cycle. There will be a better and a worse one. You will hit rock bottom and then serenade the angels again.
Keep on cycling.
I want new stuff to happen to me.
Specifically new stuff that is part of my plan for my life, – not random, default existential stuff.
I do know for one that it’s good to have a plan. A plan replaces any default, ‘let me make it through another day’. A plan is a vision of ‘something’ from nothing. I plan new stuff not old stuff.
But I question: why does nothing new happen to me? I mean it’s not for lack of having a plan. It’s not for a lack of ideas or wanting.
Seeing there is nothing happening there must be something else.I am puzzled.
This ‘nothing happening’ manifests as a stuck-ness. It feels like the flow of my life is obstructed. There is a lid on my pot.
In search for answers I dig around and sift through philosophies and belief systems and flavours of the month. I listen to gurus, sages, Elon Musk and Steve Jobs. I read Robin Sharma and Wayne Dyer. I change my diet, drink water, sleep enough, get up at dawn, meditate and exercise and stretch. I Feng Shui the house, love my plants, walk barefoot on the dew in the morning and grow my hair, – I change everything for a new start, a new life and for new stuff to happen to me.
But it doesn’t. Nothing happens.
Yeah, certainly, I feel so much better and healthy. I have tons more energy. I am stronger than before.
And then one morning during meditation I found the answer.
I am lost in the old.
Because I am lost I am also clueless of how to change my status quo.
There is so much old that there is no ‘space’ for the new. I have amassed tons of old stuff in my head. I need to do some mind-clearing. House-clearing is of course also not a bad idea while I am at it. It’s like my hangar is full but I want a new aeroplane. My pantry is chockablock but I want a new dish. I can’t even see and I don’t even know what I have anymore but I know that my life has become unbearably heavy. I am chained down by old rules, concepts, beliefs, hangups, mindsets, practices. I can’t fit another thing no matter how much I want it, into my life.
Forthwith, in this realisation, I am asking of myself to make space for the new that I want, by ridding me of the old that has no more purpose going fupwards (forward and upwards).
There is something disconcerting and worrying about getting up in the morning and being clueless about where your life is going. You tap yourself on the head and wonder what this is all about. You wonder what the point of this is when you drift so forlorn in this ocean of lost and cluelessness. When your standard answer to most questions becomes, “Eish, I don’t finguck (fill in any expletive of your choice for more umphh here) know.”
It’s a wobbly start. It’s a shaky beginning. You not even up yet and you’re on a slippery slide already. As a matter of fact you already stuck in the mud. A consolation could be that it probably can’t get any worse. But it probably will. When stuff sucks from the beginning it’s difficult to swing that impression, turn that leaf or change that dominating thought stream. When you wake up with a thunder cloud over your head the outlook ain’t rosy for the day.
I mean wouldn’t it be great if we could predict that this is going to be a great day, if we could know for certain that it is going to be a marvellous day.
Well, I’m no Sangoma or Witchdoctor or any of that. I have no surefire answer either because I also get so messed up by this cluelessness and all. But, I have found a tenacity a resilience, you can even call it an anger, a peed-offness with this image of deserted cluelessness in that horror cabinet of my mind, that out of sheer frustration and depression I have decided to simply be delusional. I fill my head with thoughts of how I want it to be, what it can be like and what it actually is, bar that little fact that reality seems to infringe upon me some other vision which I stubbornly choose to ignore. I will adjust and learn from my current circumstances, which I have probably been the author of, and write my new book starting now, actually backdated to yesteryear. I will and I can do it. I will also become who I really want to be and not what my ‘advisors,’ whoever they might be, want me to be. I will be me. Cluelessness can take a skip and hop onto someone else. From now on I do have a clue and I have found myself. My thoughts will show my vision and who I really am and not this slave of all these worldly leeches that found a host in me. Just to make a point I will quit sugar today and any of that white poison. The world can keep its cigarettes and booze and fatty foods. Today, watch me, I will dwarf Arnie, surpass Aristotle, move like Ali and have a pocket like Gates and Buffet combined. Today, hah, my new life swings into action and my radius is bigger than the universe.
It was about time.
“Clueless and lost, are you listening, take a long hike! Get! Out, out!”
Now bring on tomorrow morning and I will climb into the clouds and beyond, again and again.