a reply to: Reverbs
The zen I was speaking of... was not arising from thought. The key presses themselves saying exactly what was being typed. It is sort of like
automatic writing, but more likely akin to that synchronism business you guys typically like to "flow" about...
I yoke the eye, the ear, the nose, tongue and body. So that understanding of various phenomena or dhammas present themselves to "mind" via those
Here's what has been noticed as CONTACT "players"; in simple bare awareness of empty and yet not empty.
A Voice thrower to produce echo
A feel like I have done this DejaVous plant?
A mind if I? While action already in progress.
Tactile Sensation(touch) consciousness; feels like a finger.
Various humanoid form paradolia(corner of eyes)
Bombs(fart like) vary in character from distinct to non distinct
Change in flavor entirely from what is being eaten.
These "players" also go by some random nicknaming convention; "they" or "it" seems to arise, pass and retract; into and out of what seem to be like a
snail shell or "mystic spiral" as one has called it.
Could be a singular entity playing multiple roles; could be multiple entities...
Seems they or it sometimes combine to "create" a drama.
Thats basically the results of continuous meditative practice; and non attachment to any of the sense spheres as either good or bad but just is as it
is in bare awareness.
Not attached to whatever they, it or them are... despite the arising and passing.
Seems to be a conflict in it, them, or they though... why that has to circulate about this temporal corpse I drag around; I am not sure.
Used to be I took all of that sort as a "self" claiming those senses and discriminating everything as good, bad, or neutral. Now they just are like a
camera is the eye is no different, the camera just performs its function.
With food for instance doesn't matter the taste... sometimes my coffee has tasted like flea powder, sometimes a flavor like a dorito will appear while
eating cereal. Smells from oh perfume to cherries, bananas to something indistinguishable like some drug, poison or vitamin.
Tactile sensations... aside from the finger point sort of touches; sometimes it feels as if there is a latching onto the penis ignoring that sensation
I remain flaccid so when standing it is as if it falls out of a mouth or vagina. Also feels like being kissed from time to time or lips sliding across
my face. Also like someone uses the couch I am sitting on hour after hour as a step up or down from somewhere.
Perhaps that helps the Meta section of this Cafe... all we can do is speak from our direct experience. I cannot make any distinctions about what this
or these are... they know themselves; and well that seems to be enough.
Some of these experiences were very violent at first felt like knives in the ribs and the flea powder etc in coffee... but that seems to have settled
down more and more over time... either that or that thing known as tolerance has built some resistance to the phenomena not judging it arising and
The sutta of the Peacock means no matter what poison arises it still thrives making it a bird continually reborn in paradise, due to its grace and
nobility. Thats something that gave me inspiration or allowed grace in those trying experiences with these various phenomena... phenomena that I
cannot prove nor disprove nor have any desire towards or against proving or disproving. They just are as I just am.