I used to meditate, a lot. I experienced many seemingly remarkable things. I witnessed a subtle divine light radiating from virtually all things. I still refer to it as "divine light" because that's what it seemed to be, but I must admit, I really don't know what it was. I became unflappable, non-reactive, yet maintained an ability to respond. There is a huge difference between unconscious reactivity and mindful response. I now consider that to be a learned skill and one of the great benefits of a meditation practice. I learned to quiet the chattering monkey-mind, to tame the pernicious paciderms of pensive persuasion. I lived in awe of the beauty and mystery that I had previously failed to notice. Without the distractions of a compulsively busy mind, the senses were renewed and better attended. Awareness of my environment became intense and relaxed.

Besides an awareness of the outer world, I was deeply in tune with the inner worlds, the Subtle. I had spent the prerequsite time and energy to become intimately familiar with the workings of Mind. I peeled back the layers of onion until there was nothing there at all and in that vast expanse of nothing I learned to loose my self. All became impersonal, transpersonal, and the subtle patterns are no different. Boundries dissolve and an awareness of awareness extends to others. I experienced what I would have formerly called psychic experience, when I would know another's actions, thoughts and intent long before they themself became aware, if at all. It was extraordinary and mundane. I prefer HSP to ESP, Higher rather the Extra, as it seems to me that it requires no extra sensory mechanism in addition to those already endowed to humans.

Time got kinda weird for me, but I wont go into detail about that other than to say that when one is really in tune and clear, there seems to be more than ample time for everything, or just the right amount of time.....

but that's all just preamble.

Things are different now. I am no longer a slave to my former mistress, meditation. The honeymoon lasted years, but now it is over. Musta been that seven year itch.

Meditation may clean the lenses of perception, but it doesn't change the fact that if one puts garbage in, garbage comes out. Meditation doesn't discriminate and doesn't inform one of facts and figures, it doesn't expand one's knowledge base of the mundane, our world. Meditation does not teach math, science, history or music. Meditation doesn't inform us about the details of climate change, geo-politics, industry, nuclear proliferation, or countless other things.

I vaguely remember a dialogue about democracy and the fact that no two democratic nations have ever waged war upon one another and no modern democracy has ever suffered famine, in which, Ken Wilber made some kinda crazy comment that it was not the systems of democratic societies, but the level of consciousness within the societies that accounted for such facts. To me, that seemed like a gross UL reductionism, a reoccuring phenomena of which I was growing aware. Although the details of that event are now obscure, the feeling, my attitude, remains more clear. If that's what continuing intensive meditation does, I'll pass.

Meditation is no longer my ultimate mistress, yet we have not forsaken one another. There remains a deep love, but it is more mature, no longer dependent or codependent. We still meet, most every day, but it is a more casual encounter where in passing, the perfume of her eternity allows infinite time for me to suckle on her sweet breast.

meditation lead me to an awareness of  med-duh-tation and has flowered into sensual med-tit-ation.

raging subtle hormones, I guess...

   There were good green signs from the business community this week as they looked to the future, hoping to stay in the black, hoping to stay in business, hoping to perserve a planet on which commerce may be continued. Google announced a program to heavily invest in alternative energies while a bunch of  other BIG Businesses banded together to appeal to the UN and national governments to quit dickin' around and set some emission standards.
   It seems that I may be loosing my cynical innocence. Yes, I know, cynicism conventionally connotes a worldliness, a lack of innocence and an accumulation of experiences bereft of virtue and robust in vice.
   So it seems that the aforementioned events were not mere plublicity stunts, but sincere acts of  concience, or at least, acts of somewhat-enlightened self-interest.
   I see it as a good sign and hope it is not too late as I enter my autumn years and my leaves begin to yellow as my beard begins to grey.