Untitled Document

PAUL MATTHEW TRISKA

March 11, 2004

The cry of Rachel weeping for her children pierced our souls this day. Our beloved Paul (our own Paul), left his apartment about 3 this morning, drove the long winding, lonely road out to the firing range near Beech Fork in Wayne County and beneath the dark, star-filled sky, killed himself. He shot himself in the head with a breech loading rifle. "What? Dead? Who? Paul? What? NO! Not Paul, Not Paul!" she cried as she fled from the news that Paul was dead. "Officer are you certain that it's Paul?" "Yes, I am sorry." "Suicide! are you certain that it was suicide?" "Yes, the investigating officers are almost completely certain that it was..." The lamentation, the weeping, the sobbing, heart wracking pain, began. And then the soul searching...the questioning. "How could this have happened?" "Why didn't we see it coming?' "Why didn't we do something...When? What could we have done that we didn't? Why?" This can not be happening. It is too surreal...Where? where is the Light in all of this? where was Love? It was everywhere, yet... yet still...

I have never felt so final   
torment and blistering pain in my subconscious 
killing everything that is in me
tearing my flesh, inhale to (blemish) the mind
Still no coercion of my torture
My sickness only festers, I am rendered lifeless
Incapable of emotions and impassive to all
no words portray my own fallacy
I am forsaken here in this world of bliss.
Where I am left tasteless
I would give anything for some peace of mind
one minute ray of light is all I ask of my supposed savior
my destitution of this allows no way to heal
desperately trying to hold on to anything.
In this I have never felt so final. 


                                       PERPLEXITY


A perplexity of pain runs deeply through me.
Just another relapse in my mind's torture.
Nothing to me I keep, no touch tasted.
(Torn) consciousness, for reality is too hard.
A perplexity of pain runs deeply through me.
My duplicity is plainly displayed, yet it lies unseen.
Mind's disease is the callous(ness), My way of not feeling
I don't feed from lust's nourishment
I can't take, for I only ingest the blood and return more to 'its' ( ? )
In life, needed only someone. This is a flower,
dark and lost in shadows of me.
Still no light on my discontent. A glimpse reminds me of my hurt.
Feel so hollow while nothing I touch
A perplexity of pain runs deeply through me.


                                        _________ 



Loneliness
Depression
Despair
My disease
With no one I share
Clouded
Insides
Tear
End of all
Without care

These words and others like them (it is so heartbreaking to read them now), were among Paul's possessions. Who knew? Who really knew? Who really understood the depths of Paul's depression? He kept it mostly hidden, covered up in so many ways, under his laughter (Paul kept everyone in stitches at times), in his witty cynicism and his intellectual musings. He had us disarmed in so many ways. He was bright and I guess we just took for granted his abilities to carry on with the rest of us, with his sisters and his cousins who he loved, and who dearly loved Paul in return. We knew he was sad about many things (for reasons that all come home to us now), and had conflicts with the world (his world--the world of his youthful imagination), but we were on a common journey through this great wilderness--through the oppressions and despair of these times--and our thoughts for God and each other were going to carry all of us through....(The Accuser could find a place among us here, if we allowed ourselves to believe that God has abandoned us...No, nothing has changed, only the way we imagined it would turn out. In searching our own souls now, as well as that part of Paul's that laid so hidden, as we see it in the spiritual context of both our times and our own personal lives, as a community and a family, it comes clearer. We will not spare ourselves the meanings and the lessons to be learned here but we will not abandon the faith we started out with. We will search our hearts and scour our souls, not only for ourselves but for families everywhere who are suffering the same effects of these times upon their lives--the same which have suddenly overtaken us. God never promised to spare us these afflictions [others perhaps, but not us, not in this age], but did provide the way of transforming our Darkness into Light. As we have always looked for the Light in the darkness and despair of our times we will look for the Light in all of this)...

"What would you like us to do with Paul's body?' the officer asked. "We will need a little time, can He be brought to the morgue at St. Mary's?" "Yes, I think we can arrange that," he said. (It was nice to meet a police officer with a humble concern and respect for the lives he was touching). In the midst of all the sorrow and pain there were things to be done, other arrangements to be made, and a grave to be dug. (We are reminded at these times how disconnected we have become from the sacred rhythms of Life--from the meaning of Life itself--and from the great mysterious cycle of birth and death that governs the universe. Others, professionals you know, take care of those things for us. They deliver our children, teach our young, grow our food, direct our lives and finally speak the words and bury our dead. But when did this happen? Was it when the doctors, the priests and professionals first forsook us? when they moved to the other side of town? I think so; and when we ourselves tried to follow them, forsaking each other as a community, and abandoning Nature for the grosser material illusions--the things, and the creeping pleasures--of the modern world. Perhaps we are only now, in the whole history of man, becoming truly conscious of it all, of our relationship to the Divine in each other, and to the Divine in Nature now that we have lost it. We take refuge in Her now as we repair once again to the beautiful old woods where Bob and Betty and their family live, where Paul's grandmother is already buried beneath the family Tree. Our friends have so graciously allowed us to bury our dead next to theirs. It is the Queen cemetery, and Betty's parents and grandparents are buried there, beneath a giant oak. We went out in the morning with shovels and mattocks to begin the healing process, to open the earth with our own hands, to stare into the gaping wound that has opened in all of our hearts...

Paul's (Dad).

...and then to close it back up again on the morrow as Paul's remains are laid to rest, when everyone, young and old alike, can experience in their own most intimate way the drama of death, and imagine for themselves the mystery of resurrection again on some other plane of existence. (It is so essential for people, and children in particular, to have their own rituals back in their own hands). As we were opening the grave Paul's friend James said, "You know, when Paul and I came out here fishing last year he stood right here next to this tree and said 'This is where I am going to be buried.'" We looked at each other and shook our heads.

Paul's uncle Matij had already sawed the wood off of his land, and a friend had already built the casket (a beautiful casket). Paul's body was taken by pickup truck the forty-five miles, seven miles off the blacktop road, through the woods to where his remains would be laid right next to that tree. It was a somber gathering, not festive in the same way as when Paul's grandmother was laid to rest some years before. The circumstances were different, darker, harder to understand. "What words could convey the truth here?" Healing is an important matter, and words help to accomplish that, but truth is more important. It sets people free. "What is the truth here?" There were some, no doubt, who felt that Paul's suicide was a weak and selfish act, and that he was thinking only of himself. (There is some truth in this, but it does not explain the whole of it. Besides, holding on to such thoughts leaves us thinking only about ourselves). ). And there were some here who believe suicide is an unforgivable sin, but who do not at the same time consider the cosmic consequences of such belief. These, of course, also believe in a literal hell and were no doubt trying hard to come to grips with the idea that Paul is probably there right now, joined for eternity to the results of his own sinful act. We are not literalists, we would not leave him there.

Words from the heart (I will try to recall them here):

"We are here to honor Paul, to honor the brief time we spent with Paul, the very blessing of his existence in our lives. (I could not even imagine my own life without Paul's singular presence in it--without any of the people, especially the young people--who were gathered there in the clearing that day. It was a beautiful day). But how do we understand it, how do we make sense of the way Paul passed from us? It seems so terribly tragic...The times we are living in seem so essential to our understanding of things, to the way we make sense of things in our own minds. Our times are full of meaning. Many of us have just seen The Passion of the Christ. This has meaning here. This film sent a shock wave through our culture, as Paul's passing sent a shock wave through all of us. How is it that one person could feel such a burden? How could one person feel so responsible for the sins of so many, to carry the effects of it all upon themselves alone? How is a Christ person created? The words kept appearing: 'In great joy and great sorrow.' (And obviously in the isolations of one's own mind).

"Thirty years ago our family came up into these hills and hollows. We were on a spiritual journey. We came to experience in our own lives these great joys, but also the great sorrows that come with blessed poverty (intentional simplicity is perhaps the better way to put it). And God has, indeed, given them to us in abundant measure.

"It is here where we met all of you. It is here in these ancient, blessed hills that all of us came into each other's lives, where we began to share each other's journey (as well as each other's sorrows). It is into these circumstances--the circumstances of all of our individual lives--that Paul Matthew Triska was born. Growing up among us he took from each of us what he was supposed to (what he was able to), something essential about each of us (everything happens as it is supposed to, there are no mistakes in the universe, no force stronger than God's will. It is seamless). Then adding what was uniquely essential about himself, Paul is now giving back to us (in the only way he obviously could) exactly what each of us need...the lessons that each of us are capable of carrying away with us. (It seems so terrible, but look all around, the Universe works this way. Sometimes it is hard to understand, but Love is ultimately in operation here, and we must not quit thinking about it until we understand it).

"Paul, however, was also born into the another set of circumstances: the circumstances of our times and those of his own generation. (Generation X some have quite fittingly called it). These are the most trying times in history, and more so for those who are presently trying to find their way from adolescence to adulthood. (The pressures are enormous and yet so perfecting. And for good reason, this is the generation that is about to inherit the world to come). We are passing through a vortex in human consciousness, a time in which the cosmic forces of Light and Darkness are struggling against each other as never before. (Both, of course, emanate from the same source, from God, which is why we must keep faith in all of these matters, even though it is extremely difficult at times to keep it all in a higher spiritual perspective). They are struggling, not only for the soul of the planet but for the souls of every individual. But not simply for the soul of every individual but in the soul of every individual. The greater conflicts being waged in the world today are first and foremost internal ones, and are being waged on the tiny battlefield of our own individual minds.

A sign of Paul's own private mental journey.

Most of us tend toward the Light, toward Love. Some of us tend toward these things but do not find them (not in the ways that refresh and satisfy the soul, but we keep searching. Paul did not find them, and it seems that he gave up the search. This young man carried a bi-polar gene in him, and a predisposition for clinical depression, both of which he seemed to have under wraps. No doubt this lay at the root, and were at the crux of Paul's conflict. He had it all internalized). Paul's tendency (as a result) was to the Dark side. He felt inwardly alone. Where others of his generation coped with the "normal" problems of adolescence, he became, as we see now, obsessed by them. (He had convinced himself that he would never find true love, not in this lifetime, and that he should not even look for it--in a world governed by so much hypocrisy and insincerity as this world is. Youthful narcissism? taken to the extreme? Perhaps. He also had some reason to think this way, Paul had been hurt by love. Where his friends and close cousins at least had families to call their own, he was a child of divorce. Where others seemed attractive he seemed unattractive, at least in his own eyes. He was also reaching for the distinction between "sex," in his writings, which almost anyone can have, and the idea of true love which he was sure he could not have. He was convinced that no one could love him. The last thing he said to one of his cousins was: "Joel, why do you like me? Joel answered, "Because I love you, you're my friend." How deeply important are the words we use, and the way we use them. Paul may have latched onto those words as he went across. But where had he learned this other language, the words that lent form to his feelings of despair, even outrage and hatred? When did he adopt the philosophy of annihilation? Perhaps if when he bought his first guitar, he had found the music and the lyrics of someone like Peter Gabriel first...

"I uncovered a lot," says Gabriel, "and it's in the songs on the new album, like "In Your Eyes." On two recent trips to Senegal, it was explained to me that many of their love songs are left ambiguous so that they could refer to the love between man and woman or the love between man and God. That interested me, because in our society it's a little like the sacred versus the profane--you know, church music, for instance, expresses a religious type of love, and romantic love belongs to the Devil, if you like. "So I began playing in the lyric with a mixture of the two," he details, relating a stanza"
In your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
In your eyes
The resolution to all fruitless searches
In your eyes
I see the light and the heat
In your eyes
Oh, I want to be complete 

"Gabriel's songs, both with Genesis and Solo, are fraught with the themes of haunting, searching, and obsession; the potential solace and evil entrapments of religion; the desexualized attributes and sensual torments of love; and most of all, the terrible, yet exhilarating nearness of madness."...(p.713)

"In it (from Selling England by the Pound, 1973), I was picturing a formal English scene in which characters were really battling it out. I was influenced by D. H. Lawrence in the way that he has these territorial skirmishes going on beneath the plot. In this case, the blades of a lawn mower were an instrument of violence within the peacefulness of a summer garden." He grins strangely, a furtive wrinkle. "In the English way of life, beneath the restraint, calmness, and politeness, there's a seething animal waiting to get out."...(p.714)

"All consideration of higher education was shelved as the core of the defunct Garden Wall and the Anon (two groups) combined in the winter of 1967 to become Genesis..."The Silent Sun," was the first Decca release in February 1968. An album, From Genesis to Revelation, was issued thirteen months later, but record buyers found the quasi-Biblical boast a bore and instead bought Cream's Goodbye...(p.716).

As the (Gabriel's) baby lingered on the critical list, Gabriel lost all interest in rock and roll stardom. His band was faced with a leader who now detested the lavish acclaim they resented him for. Gabriel pulled the plug on the star-making machine and moved his family to the rural anonymity of the lush Bath valley. The change in Gabriel was so extreme that some feared for his sanity. "Peter spent the first six months making a vegetable garden and appeared to be going mad," says his wife Jill. "He would come into the house and play the piano in a very alone world. But I could tell from the way he was playing that he had to go out on his own."
When Gabriel's solo LPs began to emerge, they revealed a flair for flinty introspection and doomsday conviction. Songs like "Solsbury Hill," an uplifting tale of the exhilarating loss of childhood innocence that was an allegory for the breakup of Genesis, were contrasted with apocalyptic keyboard soul-chillers like "Here Comes the Flood."...(p.717).

"I believe that you learn more from failing than from succeeding," he rules..."Yet we have a built-in fear of failure, a shame of failure, which I think is pretty harmful. The thing with painful experiences is that you can handle them and bring them out, or you can bury them. In me there's a strong urge to bury them sometimes." "For instance, looking back on my childhood, I always told myself it was a happy time, but it was actually a dreadful time, me hating and being frightened of school and my own loneliness, unable to ever sleep, feeling so isolated. What I'm interested in doing with my music is communicating relief from psychic pain, probably because I am exploring it for myself. But there are those who argue that pain is also stored in the body.

"With mental pain there's the idea of catharsis, learnt in my realm from the blues. When the blues singer sits there and pours out his heart, he's purging his soul a little bit, and he's doing so for all the audience, who can sympathize and maybe get a little emotion out, too. I know that when I can get emotion out, I suddenly feel more alive, just as if I was pulsing with new blood in a way I simply don't when I try to suppress things."...(p.718)

"Often in our culture we look at a mask as a device to hide behind. But in many cultures--African, Indian--it's a device through which you can come out. In the traditional masked ball situation you have people behaving a lot more bravely than usual. That's not an artificial part of their personality but rather an integral part of their personality that's been allowed a doorway through the mask."...(p.718).

"What we're seeing at the moment reminds me in some ways of the 1960s, but it is a lot more practical. The social engagement of rock musicians is positive, although I don't think we can change the world as directly as many people thought was once possible. What we can do is provide information and then let people make up their minds...Nevertheless, there are urgent messages, subtle and unsubtle, on such So songs as "Don't Give Up," Gabriel's heart-tugging duet with Kate Bush, and "Mercy Street."

"True, true," says Gabriel..."the sensitive treatment Kate gave our give-and-take on the song was gratifying, because it's not just a song about a woman supporting a man in a demanding relationship. The chief thing dragging them down is unemployment...The catalyst for "Don't Give Up" was a photograph I saw by Dorothy Lange, inscribed "In This Proud Land," which showed the dust-bowl conditions during the Great Depression in America. Without a climate of self esteem, it's impossible to function.

"'Mercy Street' was inspired by a book of poetry and an unpublished play of the same name written by Ann Sexton, the troubled American housewife-turned-writer who, at around age twenty-eight, began writing what would be the collection To Bedlam and Part Way Back. A doctor in a mental hospital suggested that she write partly as therapy." In 1974, Sexton committed suicide at age forty-six. It's been said that we have art in order that we die not from truth. Certainly this was Ann Sexton's shattered gospel."...(p721).

"Earlier, Gabriel had stated that 'Shock the Monkey" was not about shock therapy but rather 'just a love song, although it's not really seen as that. It refers to jealousy as a trigger for the animal nature to surface.' Onstage, Gabriel imbues the song with a vivid dash of affirmation, testifying that humanity has the will to resist its baser urges, just as the jailer, torturer, and executioner can be dissuaded from their odious duties."...(p.722)...

"...The talk turns to another song about psychic and physical torment that Gabriel decided to put on the new record. 'We Do What We Are Told' is Gabriel's direct appeal for faith in life. The song refers to experiments conducted...in the early 1960s...that tested obedience to authority versus allegiance to one's moral code...'I was comforted that some had the strength to rebel...(also scary), particularly with the rise of the so-called Moral Majority, that there's such a readiness to judge other people. In Christ's words, 'Judge not, that ye be not judged.'"

"Anything felt or thought but left unexpressed becomes a secret, and as he came of age, Gabriel found that neither the education he was assaulted with...nor the compulsory chapel attendance intended to salve his bruised psyche offered any acknowledgment of the secrets of private experience. ONLY ROCK AND ROLL PROVIDES THIS, AND IT DEMANDS TOTAL SURRENDER."...(p.724).

KORN, EVERLAST, PROFESSIONAL MURDER MUSIC, LIMP BIZKIT, GUNS N ROSES, PRODIGY, ROB ZOMBIE, EMINEM, POWERMAN, STROKE, SONIC YOUTH, CREED

DISTURBED, END OF ALL, GODSMACK (God Hates Us All)

SICK OF IT ALL

NO CURE, NO END IN SIGHT
NO CURE FOR POISONED MINDS

NO CHANGE, NO CHANGE, AFTER ALL THIS TALK STILL LIVING FOUL
IGNORANT, IGNORANT, YOU THINK WE WOULD'VE LEARNED BY NOW.
OVER AND OVER, SAME MISTAKES AS BEFORE.
NO END, NO END, LOOK AROUND, NO END IN SIGHT.

HATRED, HATRED, THE ONLY THING WE GIVE OURSELVES.
HEARTLESS, HEARTLESS, NO REGARD FOR ANYONE ELSE.
SICKENING, SICKENING, THE WAY THAT GREED RULES OUR LIVES.
NO CURE, NO CURE, FOR THE DISEASE CALLED MANKIND.

LOOK DEEP INSIDE, FOR THE CURE TO WHAT AILS MANKIND.
LOOK DEEP INSIDE, WE'VE GOT TO LIVE A RIGHTEOUS LIFE.
LOOK DEEP INSIDE, CAN'T CHANGE THE WORLD
BUT YOU CAN CHANGE YOURSELF

                              DESPERATE FOOL

CRIME, CRIME AGAINST THE SOUL.
IT DOES MORE DANGER THAN ANYONE CAN KNOW.
AS THE VICTIMS SUFFER, THE SECRETS THAT THEY HOLD
WILL EAT AWAY INSIDE THEM TILL THEY FINALLY EXPLODE.

DESPERATE FOOL, UNFORGIVABLE.
WE'RE GONNA DO AWAY WITH YOU.
DESPERATE FOOL, UNFORGIVABLE
YOUR KIND WON'T STAND A CHANCE.
YOU CALL YOURSELF A MAN,
LET'S LEAVE YOUR FATE UP TO 
THOSE WHO'VE BEEN RAPED.
YOU IMPOSE YOURSELF A LOT,
NO MEANS NO, YOU DON'T KNOW WHEN TO STOP.
IT'S BAD, IT'S SOUL, IT'S ALL HUMANITY
THAT'S WHAT'S VIOLATED, CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE REALLY HATED.

STEP UP TO THE PLATE, YOU CHALLENGE FATE.
YOU'VE EARNED A CASTRATION.
YOU'RE FACE TO FACE WITH YOUR VICTIM'S RAGE
YOU DESERVE THIS LACERATION.

Self inflicted - Creation - Reversal Suicidio

You can't want me
I'll go away
You don't want me
I'll just go away
A person with a loss such as mine
Isn't torn by future's existence
Only burned by rejection.

Most of Paul's writings, and the lyrics of his songs, are deeply personal, and express in the dark genre of this generation the hurt, the isolation and the estrangement he felt from the most essential ingredients of life. We leave them to those for whom they are intended. Was Paul possessed? Yes, by the twin demons of despair and hopelessness. (Perception is reality). Yes, by the failings of his parents. (Blaming our parents, however, is an escape from maturity, and is ultimately to blame God. For the parent can blame their parents, and so on all the way back to Creation. Somewhere along the way someone has to stop blaming others and take responsibility for their own life, and for the effects their life has had, and is having, on the lives of others. (This, of course, is the role of every spiritually responsible person), and then make an atonement. As hard as it may be the one who realizes and breaks the cycle must also change. And that is the ultimate meaning in all of this. An atonement has been made. Changes are required. Of course, God does assume responsibility for it all, which is why we must not be quick to judge Paul or anyone else in this matter. We must put it all in higher context. God has, indeed, created all the conditions in which we find ourselves today. God sees each strand, knows each soul, and knows exactly what it takes to transform--both individually and collectively--the human heart and mind. I kill and I make alive...I form the light, and create darkness, I the Lord do all these things...(Deuteronomy 32:39; Isaiah 45:7) We are, in fact, still be created, being fired to perfection as it is, and these (as well as everything that is happening in the earth at this time), are the final trials of our faith. We pray that the lesson here is sufficient for all of us. Was Paul possessed? Yes, beyond his own individual circumstances, by the intense apocalyptic spirit that pervades the American state of mind. And yes, by the dark side of Rock and Roll, by the rage (mostly adolescent and subliminal), that emanates directly out of this society's inability to recognize and come to grips with the pervasive evil, with the alienation from the truth and from true Love, that overshadows the social, political, economic and religious landscape of this country.

...Because thou sufferest that woman Jezebel (world commerce, mass media and advertising, and ultimately the American education system itself), which calleth herself a prophetess, to teach and seduce my servants, and to eat things sacrificed to idols.

And I gave her space to repent of her fornication; and she repented not.

Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and them that commit adultery with her into great tribulation, except they repent of their deeds.

And I will kill her children with death; and all the churches shall know that I am he which searcheth the reins and hearts: and I will give unto every one of you according to your works...(Revelation 2:20-23).
Pray for the holy book, revised by all of its beholders.
Praise society's fear of the great and loving
This abstract (Paul's expressions  ramble at times), with which is all benevolent 
     and forgiving.
But will condemn you to an eternity of burning flesh and infestation.

Praise all the heretics (from the truth) and biases.
Praise the slaughter with which we spread our views,
Enslave and condemn those we feel are wrong,
Hide behind our masks and ignore (the truth).

Praise the false symbols with which we stand...
The symbols we idolize and correlate (with God and state).
All in all, what we have isn't all bastard spawned,
Praise it,because it gave a set of morals, false but very real.

Who could fathom the depths, or understand the full meaning of Paul's words here? When he sent this portrait of himself he wrote that the flag waving in the background represented the ill wind blowing across the world, and through his own mind.

...We all rot in the end.
On all faces I see only grimace,
For in us resides a horror and a lust for war.
With an oath of hate, hands betake weapons...

Orchards of slaughter
In time become holly.
The records incorporate the beholder's views
Terror (strikes) me when
Orchards of slaughter
In time, become holly.
                                 _______

Trying to remember me
The cluttered hall, so neatly arranged
The corpses of my slain enemy bedecorated
and honored for the true friends they were.
Looking back to see forward and listening for the 
     sweetest taste
The last tender note to be absorbed to my flesh is spoken
by the eyes of you, to conduce inhalation, thus you are here
fueling the sand fire that the pendulum of heart swings toward
can descend upon me from below and know my duplicity.
Never touch a promise with bare hands, they are scattered bacteria
laid down sick and starving with too much nourishment
the infant strokes her greying beard, and I seek not to be content.
Sanity, a currency in my mind, but destitution
forces fecies spread upon these dollars
Trying to forget..

His friends said that Paul was smoking a lot of pot, and that when he came home to his apartment at night he would get high (the incoherence of his thoughts), and often times he would stay that way throughout the day. The night he killed himself he was very high, no doubt an attempt to destroy his own resistance to the decision he was about to make (a decision he had already made sometime before it seems; it was only a matter of when). There was so much weighing on him that night, burdens in his own private mind that he could not any longer bare, mixed with other things that he was driven to both destroy and atone for.

Inhale swallow
bottle it down...
in your veins
this is how you handle it
pushed all away,
a regret satisfied only by your infection
I don't know you
can't feel your addiction
but inside I know you cry,
the same as I do
without addiction,
I still feel in your hate and discontent.

                                    _______

No light on my discontent
no light on my face
no light deep inside, deep in my hole
where creation's grip binds me
no glimpse reminds me of my hurt
feel so hollow, while nothing I taste

                                    _______

SLAMMIN DOORS

Anger fuels me from within,
And buries me deep inside myself
Subconscious shows no sign of release
I find solace in antisocial tendencies.

(Chorus)

Growing strong enough to shut past's doors.
Right now I'm slamming your's
F___ you, f___ you, I need no one.

You weren't there when I needed light
I don't want to 'outish you,'
I await your downfall (consider the ways of the oracle, 
     and the  complex-double meaning here)
And deviate your existence...

Almost strong enough to shut everyone's door
I need no one
Life's course is solitude.
                                   _______

Cold sweat, last debt paid now
hallowed beneath obscure surface
borrowed breath returned now for rapture
paralyzed nerves for paradise
forsake divinity, for lust (descending now)
forgotten sorrows for false hope (challenging Truth, God and  the universe)
Love for desperation and loneliness
Now inhale our happiness substitution
now inject wholesomeness
only love the world through blinded eyes
only regret when infliction of this is absent
paralyzed nerves for paradise.
                                   _______

You've punctured deep
draining blood to the end
hurting this way
I've felt it
Knowing all too well the torture of your mind
I bleed profusely for days
waded into streams in darkness
crying not for help,
but trying to be found meek and cursed
as the waters around me become enriched
with the life gushing from my vein.
I grasped a faint light of hope
my eyes hurt to behold it
now it's a scar deep and wide within me
but now your life is slipping,
into the waters where I once stood
you will never heal.

Paul and his uncle Peter recently spent some time together at Ritter Park. Peter recalls Paul sort of mystically stepping back and forth inside this life-size, oval sculpture that is erected there. It is supposed to represent the Egg of the Universe and the portal through time and space. The journey was already in his mind. John recalled a day or two before Paul passed over, during a conversation with a couple of girls at the same park, that Paul stood back, looking down, shuffling his feet. Paul had given up hope of a meaningful relationship. He was convinced that there was not much about him that a girl could be attracted to. It seems that it was actually some girl trouble that might have pushed him over that night. I don't know the full story about it yet, so I will not try to fill in the pieces here. But I do remember some time ago that I heard Paul say, "I really would like to make love to a girl."

"Among the last words that Paul wrote were those that said:

I would give anything for some peace of mind
one minute ray of light is all I ask of my supposed savior

"A picture of Lt. Dan sitting on top of that mast, challenging God in the hurricane, came to my mind. Paul, sitting alone in the front seat of his car, in the dark, challenging God to provide him that one ray of light. "If you are real, if you are there, then save me." Because God did not stop him from pulling the trigger, I can only imagine the voice inside of Paul's mind saying: "Prove me, come over, and see if I do not provide the Light." BANG!

"We can not presume to judge what Paul did. We must open up new fields of understanding. Whether out of purpose or absolute despair Paul made a sacrifice of himself that night. He made a leap of faith. And besides (pointing to the gravesite of his grandmother, the one who cradled him in her own arms when he was born), she was already there to receive him. 'This is one of mine,' we can hear her saying, as she reached out to draw that light ray back up to herself. It says in the written word (and God keeps Their word), that whatsoever we bind (in the light) on earth, shall be bound in heaven, and so all of us today have the authority, and power, to join with heaven and bind Paul's spirit to other side (the other side of Life that is)."

Paul's sister Olivia read a heart-touching letter, forgiving him and releasing his spirit, as did his sister Zelenka's daughter, Kindra. And then Trish Clark's voice elevated all of us to the strains of In the Arms of an Angel.

Paul was buried under the shadow of the family Tree. The Stewarts, Paul's other family, brought roses for everyone to lay in Paul's grave. Everyone, children and grownups alike, gathered around to cover his body and give it back to the earth. The Fintons, gracious Betty and her family, had a wonderful meal prepared up at the house. On my way I looked back and noticed that two little girls, Jodi and Kalila, had lingered at the gravesite. I walked back and found Jodi patting the ground and planting flowers on the fresh mound of earth. Kalila was sitting on top of the grave, alone in her own thoughts, singing and drawing pictures in the soil. As Jodi and I walked together to the house, we looked back and hollared to Kalila, "Do you want us to wait for you?" She just waved, still by herself in her own distant thoughts, "No, I'm alright."

A day or two later Bob, whose opinions I truely value, wrote to say:

Michael,

I understand that you so wanted to find some positive thing to say at the funeral, but it is both wrong and dangerous to term suicide as sacrifice--especially before so many teenagers. Suicide is the antethisis of sacrifice. Laying down one's life is in no case the same as taking one's own life. b.

Thinking long and hard about it all, I wrote back:

Yes, I know that there are injunctions and sanctions inscribed in the "literal" Torah against taking one's own life. And I (sincerely) understand your concern, not only for the terminology of sacrifice but for the impressionable young minds who might possibly get those definitions confused. But I don't believe they can. Death (like the Mystery of Christ itself, the most profound of human mysteries) is a calling, and I do not believe a person can call themself (against the will of the Universe) into a relationship with it. If such matters are not an already compelling part of a person's very own stream of consciousness the very thought of it will pass over them like ripples on a pond. It will touch them, for sure, and speak to them in certain essential ways, but not in the same way as it did to Paul. Those young people saw his mangled body, it was nothing to emulate and I am sure it gave them shudders. If they were angry at life (or in despair of it) I am sure it gave them pause to consider. The adolescent conversation that several of those young boys (Paul's friends) were already having with death (and with Paul), suddenly became reality. It struck them like lightning and we are certain that it altered their entire sense of things. It is in that sense that I spoke of a sacrifice. Thousands upon thousands of young people are being sent (or called) away from their families and communities to make what the nation and church considers to be the "perfect and acceptable sacrifice" of themselves on the battlefields of this world (committing in the offering both murder and suicide). It is in this sense that Paul's death is a sacrifice, or a "counter-sacrifice" if you will. I will tell his story to many young people who presently are (and who will be very soon) in conflict themselves over whether to obey and go, or to resist and pay (not the ultimate price but) the immediate penalty. There were also several people in that circle who were partly, and even greatly responsible for the burdens (the emotional and psychlogical afflictions) that weighed on Paul so heavily (those insincerities and hypocrisies that I mentioned, and which molded at least half of his approach to life). Paul's "sacrifice" was for them, so that they might wake up to see the Darkness in themselves and own up to their complicity in Paul's decision to "uncreate" himself and start over as he wrote.

The alternative to seeing the great Light in all of this was to consign Paul to the Darkness. I chose instead (and it was not my intention to do so arrogantly in the face of others) to come boldly before the Throne of Grace, not only with the words "That I might not lose any that He has given me," but with an understanding that the Mystery of Christ's passion and death is bigger, more sublime and more inclusive of every form of human affliction than any off us can presently imagine, and that Christ suffered in Paul for many of his own....Oh well, that is something of my sense of it all. Perhaps it is too esoteric, exceeds limits and stretches the boundaries that separate heaven from earth. But perhaps it stretched (or expanded) some people's sense of God's Real Presence in the Universe--in both the Light and the Darkness. We shall see...

An evil Tree cannot bring forth good fruit. If Paul's death was not of God then it will result in no good thing, and everything will deteriorate from that point. But we are already seeing profound changes in the lives of those Paul touched. We shall see...Until then I will carry around your criticism and reflect upon it in a serious way, and will not always equate suicide with sacrifice. But this christ I knew. Thanks again for being there, in more ways than one...

That very day Paul's friend James came by with two more drawings Paul had made. "I think you ought to have these," he said:

A self portrait.

Hello Sir

I was taken aback to hear about your grandson. I am very sorry. Another test for you and yours. I have been forced to think hard for the past 24 hrs. I think much of what you advised and told me. Your grandson took on a burden that i had attempted and/or say I'd do, feeling it is the only way out. I put myself in your shoes now, and i am ashamed.

If I may, I thank your grandson for touching me and my conscience. I will try harder NOT to burden my loved ones with such acts anymore. My current motto is : LOVE is STRONGER than Death. God Bless you and your beautiful Family

Love Dawn

Grace and Jenny wrapped in the blanket that covered Paul's casket.

To My Friend 3/12/04

When I see you, Paul, I see warmth and love
a sideways West Virginian joke to liven up the night
a gentle and caring older brother and cousin
always checking to see if the kiddies are O.K.

never cruel
never distasteful
an old soul
beautiful intelligent eyes and
strength of spirit

I can see you now
sitting at campsite
in a black tank top
with socks pulled up
uniquely yourself
not interested
in being anyone else

"you see these pants" you would say
"no name brand...the best you can get"

inventions and experiments
musical gift
loud guitar playing
that I could relate to
philosophical outlooks
well beyond your age
always a willingness to share

sensativity and
bravery... even up to your last quiet exit
cliff jump in a minute if you were asked
walk through a fire if you were dared

kept your problems to yourself
at least around me
kind of like
you didn't want to burden anyone too much

Paul...I can see you now
jumping off this last cliff
all by your self
thousands of miles away
from those who love you so
imagining that there is no way out
of your prison...

I know, Paul, that
the cage has cracked
the chains are broke
the damage repaired
I know, Paul that
your spirit flies free among the heavens
across the earth into the West Virginia hills
where you once walked
hand in hand
with your band
and I will keep you here
with me, mine and yours
while we walk this plane
believing in a better day
and I will make sure that I remember you
when the fires rage
and my soul wants to tire
and I want to say
I'm having a bad day

because you are a soldier of love
who has so much to give me
in the way of sweet memories

and the next time I stand in a West Virginia Hollar
and a breeze creeps over the hill
bearing the sweet smell of sunshine
and life

I might shed a tear
with your name on it

my friend

________

Paul,

I want to let you know that I will miss you and that I know I'll see you again.

I talked of you often with your grandfather. I spoke of how inspired I was by your creative impulse, by the cheer in your smile and the adventure of your soul. Paul, I know you brought much light into the lives of people. Your friends and your family. I heard that you were at a loss to return all the love you received paul, and that you had trouble being with that aspect of your life. But I want you to know, I'm clear that you brought light into some very dark places, you made a difference for people. And in your dying, there is a stirring of spirit that would not have happened at this time without your very powerful act of courage and faith. For I know that you knew God paul. And in those last moments, I can imagine your conversation with God.

You were a brilliant young man in this life, capable of ANYTHING... and I often felt great hope for the future of our planet knowing that there were young people like you out there to lead us someday. Paul, you were an extraordinary young man, a renaissance man, a man of love, of art and of science. I could have never expected that you would give your life in such a way. Although in retrospect, I am seeing into a dimension of it that inspires and touches me to write this letter to you now.

At first you know, I was really saddened to hear the news of your death. I really held such esteem for you and you brought me so much light, so much hope. I'm not disappointed in you Paul, I'm not let down. At a certain point, I began to see into your powerful choice as an act of great courage and sacrifice. Being that you are so full of light, I figure you must have given yourself over to exploring the depth of humanity in such a way that you were caught by the darkness and you gave yourself over to. It was loving and it was brave. God be with you Paul.

To think that you made this choice and you remained present to it all the way to the end blows my sense of myself wide open. It is hard for me to imagine what it would take to pull the trigger paul...that you made a conscious act of faith, you chose to die to yourself. You gave yourself over to being born again.

When I reflect on it I see nothing but a warrior deed. You accomplished your mission paul. In a way, you pave the way of death for us all. And you gave a gift in your act. I know on a certain level, you knew what you were
doing. I am inspired by your courage paul. I hope to have the same courage over death paul that I will need to complete my mission here. Because I see your choice to take your own life as a sacrifice, and because it moves me so deeply paul...I can see that you came into this life plainly to make such a sacrifice as you have. You touch me at the level of soul. I recognize your sacrifice as a pathway to life paul, as an indication of the challenges to come, as a calling forth of my own bravery in these end times. I know you did this to remind us of our duty to give our lives over to our work.

Paul, I promise to give my life. I promise to give it IN LIVING. For in your dying I am moved to live through the death of my own fears of life. And for this I am clear that we are brethren, born of the same spiritual metal. Born to die, to sacrifice and cause life.

Paul. You show the way of sacrifice. I knew you before this life, and I know that I will be with you again. I will see you again paul, but not until our work is complete here...no matter what.

Your brother in Love,

tim

_______

Subject: Looking for Paul?! Vickey

Dad, Do you think..that the reason i didn't get a visit from a bird is because Paul is not in heaven????

I know Paul must be, we all agreed that he was in heaven..

What kind of a bird does it have to be? (Paul drew this before he left).

Life is short, so it seems,

Like sleeping through a wakeful dream.

Where time makes us weary, when battles are through,

Where moments lift vails and life starts anew.

This mystery holds true, though partly untold,

Where with faith there lies promise that its truth will unfold.

Come peace, Come strength, caress me at night.

I bid thee make ready, for such spiritual flight. 
                                                  Paul's Grandmother.

Besides, when it comes from heaven it's a package deal. So now you know why she had to go over first? Of course, to receive her own. Paul may not have have realized it, but he was born into a very complex light stream of cosmic love. There may be pain and sorrow for the night, but joy cometh in the morning. Paul woke up on the other side. Be assured. He may also decide to come back. And that is wonderful too. In either case we will see him as he is, and we will know him forever.

I feel so ashamed..for thinking such thoughts..(forgive me!)

It's just that..I wished there was a way to .....Why did God have to be so harsh!? I wished with all of my heart I would have done things differently. Darn Me!! I should have listened to Bill...And butted out! Who did I think I was!? I am very upset at myself , nothing worst then seeing all your mistakes close up...I sugar coated the whole thing..If I only knew! I only made matters darker instead of peace.. I am trying hard to keep in mind on what John told me last night...

John said: "Mom..have you lost your faith?" No.. It's just sometimes I break down! John: "Well you need to stop breaking down, you know! You suffer from your own ego! You have to realize..this is not about you..it's about Paul! Do you really think that you could have changed Paul destiny? So stop thinking like you had anything to do with it! This is all about Paul and God. Except that Paul is happy.." Yes your right.. I guess I should be thankful that I was able to be a lucky by stander...I dont mean to have a big ego! Just that I miss Paul so so so much!!! Just the thought that I will never again see his smile, touch his skin..kills me over and over and over...D# my EGO!!

I guess I will never understand fully, because my love is so simple so small compared to God's love.. I love you..Dad Pray for me..Pray that my faith be bigger than my ego..

My heart is bleeding.........

A LETTER FROM HEAVEN

Hey, Nanna is like...I can't really describe it. She's like a goddess up here but she won't even acknowledge it. She says we're all equal and keeps reminding us of that. You should see where she lives....it's beautiful. I've been hanging out with her. That's all I want to do right now. Papa's gonna be surprised. Grandma Anna is here. You should see her. You know that fairy queen in the Lord of the Rings...yep, it looks just like her...when she's not turning invisible that is. I'm going to stay here for a while, but I have a choice to make sometime in the near future. I'm thinking about coming back. I left a lot of things undone, and I guess I want to get back here the next time, you know...the right way, the way that people should. (I don't know what I was thinking). I discovered secrets about solar energy and I'll bring them back with me if I come. And, well, I still want to to make love to a girl, to my own girl...you know, not just sex, anyone can can do that, but real love. I could wait for her to show up here, but I'm sure if I return she'll be there too. Wherever she is we'll find each other. I'm using Papa's mind here but it's the same. We're all on the same wavelength. OK, so if I decide to come back I'll try to give you all a sign. Don't worry, we get to know each other perfectly when we get back here. Nothing is lost here, only bad memories. We will always be together. You should see who all of us were in our other lives, but I'm leaving all that for you to discover when you get here. It's cool how they know all that stuff up here. I keep saying 'up here.' Well that's where I am, and I am going to enjoy it while I'm here. "I might stay but I might come back. The choice is mine. Hey Joel, I might even choose to be one of your kids. Ho ho ho. Okay, everyone sleep sound. I'm okay now. Hey Olivia, you better learn how to play that guitar, and no barroom stuff. I might want to come to one of your concerts some time in the future, or just listen to you around a campfire somewhere. I might be one of those kids sitting at your feet. You too Kendra and you too Jared. You all have to grow up and help make the world a good place. Hey Mom, I love you, sorry for giving you all the trouble. Love...hmmmmm, let's see now, I have to figure out what my next name will be.

_______

Since March 11th Paul's life, is playing over and over inside my mind, my thoughts scarring about, gathering each and every detail and examining his very existence....I am thinking that Paul has no need to come back, because I feel Paul's spirit was an old spirit..Paul had too much understanding of higher matters...and Paul was so kind, so generous to all..Things are not what they seem..To understand, to see, we must look at everything with a different approach, like looking through a broken mirror or reading backwards...I have even stood on my head..and I come up with the same answers each time..I am convinced that Paul's spirit came knowingly into this world on a mission. Oddly as it sounds, Paul is a GREAT HEALER! I am guessing that he was lonely at times because he was hoping he didn't have to go (like this)..but a great healer must do what a healer must do. I believe this because I refuse to believe that Paul's life had no purpose or great reason...I have taken many steps back, hoping to witness THE GREAT HEALING ..like catching a glimpse of a shooting star. I am waiting for it to happen....Anyways its really hard to express what I am trying to say..I know one thing for sure what is IS! Now I have to find peace and happiness in everything, I guess it is the meaning of faith.. I know now that we have control of nothing. I will find the beauty in this...I will be at peace with my heart in time..when I become unselfish, and come to terms with him not being here with me (us). I keep thinking..how funny; if Paul truly thought he could un-create himself...the joke is on him...LOL!! Paul is now bigger than before..He is the UNIVERSE..I have to learn to be glad for Paul...I am happy , Paul is now LOVE itself....I love you

__________

Here are a few thoughts.... which i needed to share ...nothin earthshattering , but in my heart ...................

My heart feels the pain ,the pain of you gone...it is a state of sadness that you left us in, a mirror of your state, so now at last we see you .So sorry to have missed what you could not say...a picture paints a thousand words .Perhaps i saw what you wanted & longed to be .... a piece of us ,content in the collective love we have made for ourselves in this bleak world.....and now, in the void where once you stood i wait on the Lord of my soul for that which surely will sprout in this garden , for ever true are the words once spoken by the great tender of this plot....."and it will be spring again ,and Gods gifts are everlasting....and a ROSE is a ROSE"
Dear God,
 
I know you've heard this before, At least I know I've cried it a dozen
     times or more.

I wish I knew why some people are so sad. And then what makes others

     so terrible and bad.

What causes some to rob, and others to cry 'thief!' Why some are happy

     while others gather grief.

I wish that I could be so many things that I am not, to understand

     the pattern, to compliment the plot.

Still, I suppose I am exactly as I need to be...

For you remain the gardener in the field, who waters the ground

     and plants the tree.

                                              Paul's grandmother.
....and also ,

In the Dawning of Day, i wake to the sound of life .it is all around me ....it beats to a rythym and has a pulse....I cannot change it ,only ride its tide, It floods my senses.Do I hear the birds singing thier wakeup songs ? See the brightness of Sun on Terra? Do I taste & smell the richness of life in my cup? Or feel the chill of the morning spring breeze?........It washes over me and I amb dazzled by it;'s beauty! I am thankful to have this moment, for it is a culmination of every moment that has ever been. The tear I shed is eagerly swallowed up by earth & seed and its intention is lifted on high to the ears of my Father,who pours down the rain....the healing rains of spring, so that all may grow according to its season...Blessed is this day& Blessed are we who cry tears of sorrow and long for the joy of the new day, for surely we will reap what we sow.....

Thanks for listenning.....love to you all!
Sharon

__________

Dad,
It was the sweetest thing, last night Kalila and I were sitting under the stars (Kalila is seven years old)..She was wearing a (hoodie) 2 times her size..crawled up in a ball half of her on my lap, when all of a sudden she raised her head up, peeking her small face out of the hoodie saying "mom!! Mom, I figured out why Paul died first..why he went to heaven first!!" So I said..why? "Because mom Paul was the smartest..he finished the test first! You know..Paul finished the big test! That's why!!" Ohh the big test , yeahh I said agreeing with her..He finished the big test first.. Sounds good to me..LOL! Out of the mouth of a child, the words of wisdom. Nice thought don't ya think? Bless her little heart and soul.

Dear Paul, I will miss you, and all the things that made you, you. I will miss the excitement in your voice, "Joe! Joe! Joe! Come on, lets go to Grayson Lake." I will miss how long you would take to get ready for things. I will miss mostly little things like that. As I sit here jotting these words I find it hard to believe that you are gone. You are gone? Nah, you're off to the store, or you're hunting with Dad, that's what I tell myself.

Many smiles come to my face when I think of you. Thanks for the funny jokes, your gentle love. Thanks for (those) irreplacable summers. I think the hardest thing for us is that you are a missing piece to our family puzzle. I once saw a puzzle that someone put together. It was one of those 500 piece jigsaw puzzles that must have taken forever to complete. The picture the puzzle made was an ocean scene with crashing waves. In the distance were the dark clouds of a passing storm. I could tell the storm was passing because beautiful sun beams lit the water below. As I stared at the puzzle I realized that it was missing a piece. I almost overlooked it. Whoever had put the puzzle together painted in perfectly the missing piece. So although your piece is missing, don't worry, we will paint you in using your love and (our) memories in place of paint. We love you.

Jacob...or is it Paul?

Kristie is fourteen years old

THE TIBETAN BOOK OF LIVING AND DYING

by Sogyal Rinpoche

Look still deeper into impermanance, and you'll find it has another message, another face, one of great hope, one that opens your eyes to the fundamental nature of the Universe, and our extraordinary relationship to it.

If everything is impermanent, then everything is what we call "empty," which means lacking any lasting, stable, and inherent existence; and all things, when seen and understood in their true relation, are not independent but interdependent with all other things. The Buddha compared the universe to a vest net woven of a countless variety of brilliant jewels, each with a countless number of facets. Each jewel (each soul) reflects in itself every other jewel in the net and is, in fact, one with every other jewel...

Think of a tree. When you think of a tree, you tend to think of a distinctly defined object; and on a certain level...it is. But when you look more closely at the tree, you will see that ultimately it has no independent existence. When you contemplate it, you will find that it dissolves into an extremely subtle net of relationships that stretch across the universe. The rain that falls on its leaves, the wind that sways it, the soil that nourishes and sustains it, all the seasons and the weather, moonlight and starlight and sunlight--all form part of the tree. As you begin to think about the tree more and more, you will discover that everything in the universe helps to make the tree what it is; that it cannot at any moment be isolated from anything else; and that at every moment its nature is subtly changing. This is what we mean when we say things are "empty," that they have no independent existence...

So when we really look at ourselves, then, and the things around us that we took to be so solid, so stable, and so lasting, we find that they have no more reality than a dream (a four-dimensional holographic dream). Buddha said:

Know all things to be like this:
A mirage, a cloud castle,
A dream, an apparition,
Without essence, but with qualities that can be seen.


Know all things to be like this:

As the moon in the bright sky

In some clear lake reflected,
Though to that lake the moon has never moved.



Know all things to be like this:

As an echo that derives

From music, sounds, and weeping, 

Yet in that echo is no melody.



Know all things to be like this:
As a magician makes illusions

OF horses, oxen, cars and other things,

Nothing is as it appears.

True spirituality also is to be aware that if we are interdependent with everything and everyone else, even our smallest, least significant thought, word, and action have real consequences throughout the universe. Throw a pebble into a pond. It sends a shiver across the surrface of the water. Ripples merge into one another and create new ones. Everything is inextricably interrelated: We come to realize we are responsible for everything we do, say, or think, responsible in fact for ourselves, everyone and everything else, and the entire universe...

THE CHANGELESS

Impermanence has already revealed to us many truths, but it has a final treasure still in its keeping, one that lies largely hidden from us, unsuspected and unrecognized, yet most intimately our own...

The Western poet Rainer Maria Rilke has said that our deepest fears are like dragons guarding our deepest treasure. The fear that impermanence awakens in us, that nothing is real and nothing lasts, is, we come to discover, our greatest friend because it drives us to ask: If everything dies, and changes, then what is really true? Is there something behind the appearances, something boundless and infinitely spacious, something in which the dance of change and impermanence takes place? Is there something in fact we can depend on, that does survive what we call death?

Allowing these questions to occupy us urgently, and reflecting on them, we slowly find ourselves making a profound shift in the way we view everything. With continued contemplation and practice in letting go, we come to uncover in ourselves "something" we cannot name or describe or conceptualize, "something" that we begin to realize lies behind all the changes and death in the world....As this happens we catch repeated and glowing glimpses of the vast implications behind the truth of impermanence. It is as if all our lives we have been flying in an airplane through dark clouds and turbulence, when suddenly the plane soars above these into the clear, boundless sky. Inspired and exhilarated by this emergence into a new dimension of freedom, we come to uncover a depth of peace, joy, and confidence in ourselves that fills us with wonder, and breeds in us gradually a certainty that there is in us "something" that nothing destroys, that nothing alters, and cannot die...

Gradually, then, we become aware in ourselves of the calm and sky-like presence of what Milarepa calls the deathless and unending nature of mind. And as this new awareness begins to become vivid and almost unbroken, there occurs what the Upanishads call a "turning about in the seat of consciousness," a personal, utterly non-conceptual revelation of what we are, why we are here, and hoow we should act, which amounts in the end to nothing less than a new life, a new birth, almost, you could say, a resurrection.

What a beautiful and what a healing mystery it is that from contemplating, continually and fearlessly, the truth of change and impermanence, we come slowly to find ourselves face to face, in gratitude and joy, with the truth of the chageless, with the truth of the deathless, unending nature of mind.

THE NATURE OF MIND

Confined in the dark narrow cage (of our own thoughts, and our own perceptions) which we take for the whole universe, very few of us can even begin to imagine another dimension of reality. Patrul Rinpoche tells the story of an old frog who had lived all his life in a dank well. One day a from from the sea paid him a visit.

"Where do you come from?" asked the frog in the well.
"From the great ocean," he replied.

"How big is your ocean?"

"It's gigantic."

"You mean about a quarter of the size of my well here?"

"Bigger."

"Bigger? You mean half as big?"
"No, even bigger."
"Is it...as big as this well?"
"There is no comparison."
"That's impossible! I've got to see this for myself."
They set off together. When the frog from the well saw the ocean, it was such a

     shock that his head exploded in pieces.

The still revolutionary insight of Buddhism (and, of course, true Christianity) is that life and death are in the mind, and nowhere else. Mind (and in the West we speak of the Mind of Universe--the Mind of God, of which our own individual minds are a part) is revealed as the universal basis of experience--the creator of happiness and the creator of suffering, the creator of what we call life and what we call death.

There are many aspects to the mind, but two stand out. The first is the ordinary mind, called by the Tibetans sem. One master defines it: "That which possesses discriminating awareness, that which possesses a sense of duality--which grasps or rejects something external--that is mind. Fundamentally it is that which can associate with an 'other'--with any 'something' that is perceived as different from the perceiver." Sem is the discursive, dualistic, thinking mind, which can only function in relation to the projected and falsely perceived external reference point.

So sem in the mind that thinks, plots, desires, manipulates, that flares up in anger, that creates and indulges in waves of negative emotions and thoughts, that has to go and on asserting, validating, and confirming its 'existence' by fragmenting, conceptualizing, and solidifying experience. The ordinary mind is the ceaselessly shifting and shiftless prey of external influences, habitual tendencies, and conditioning: The masters liken sem to a candle flame in an open doorway, vulnerable to all the winds of circumstances...

Then there is the very nature of mind, its innermost essence, which is absolutely and always untouched by change or death. At present it is hidden within our own mind, our sem, enveloped and obscured by the mental scurry of our thoughts and emotions. Just as clouds can be shifted by a strong gust of wind to reveal the shining sun and wide-open sky, so under certain special circumstances, some inspiration may uncover for us glimpses of this nature of mind. These glimpses have many depths and degrees, but each of them will bring some light of understanding, meaning, and freedom. This is because the nature of mind is the very Root itself of understanding. In Tibetan we call it Rigpa, a primordial, pure, pristine awareness that is at once intelligent, cognizent, radiant, and always awake. It could be said to be the knowledge of knowledge itself.

Do not make the mistake of imagining that the nature of mind is exclusive to our mind only. It is in fact the nature of everything. It can never be said too often that to realize the nature of mind is to realize the nature of all things. Saints and mystics throughout history have adorned their realizations with different names and given them different faces and interpretations. (Of course, in the West we say that this adornment proceeds from the Mind of the Universe, as do the names, the faces and the interpretations), but what thay are all fundamentally experiencing is the essential nature of the mind. Christians and Jews call it God; Hindus call it "the Self," "Brahma," "Vishnu," and "Shiva;" Sufi mystics name it "the Hidden Essence," and Buddhists call it "buddha nature." At the heart of all religions is the certainty that there is a fundamental truth, and that this life is a sacred opportunity to evolve and realize it.

When we say Buddha, we naturally think of the Indian prince Gautama Siddhartha who reached enlightenment in the sixth century BC, and who taught the spiritual path followed by millions all over Asia, known today as Buddhism. Buddha, however, has a much deeper meaning. It means a person, any person, who has completely awakened from ignorance and opened to his or her vast potential of wisdom. A buddha is one who has brought a final end to suffering and frustration, and discovered a lasting and deathless happiness and peace.

THE HIDDEN KINGDOM OF SHAMBHALA (AS ABOVE SO BELOW)

"The quest for an earthly Paradise is one of the oldest and most enduring themes of mythology. Ancient clay tablets dating back to the 2nd millennium B.C. tell of the hero Gilgamesh and his epic journey to the Garden of the Sun in search of the secrets of immortality. In the 2nd century B.C. the Chinese emperor Wu Ti sent envoys looking for the mythical palace of Hsi Wang Mu--the dwelling place of the immortals, hidden in the mysterious Kunlun Mountains of Central Asia. During the Middle Ages Irish monks set out on the Atlantic, seeking legendary isles of the Blessed where they might find salvation. Centuries later the Pilgrims crossed the ocean, hoping to find a Garden of Eden in the new world.

Tibetans have long held a tradition of just such an earthly Paradise, called Shambhala--a mythical kingdom that is hidden among the Snow mountains north of Tibet. (Snow, a six-stemmed crystal is another symbol of that hidden place named Beauty on the Tree of Life). There in the sanctuary free from strife and want, a line of divine kings is said to be preserving the highest teachings of Buddhism for a time in the future when barbarians will destroy all true religion in the world outside. When the barbarians try to conquer even Shambhala, a Saviour king will emerge with a supernatural army to defeat them in great battle and establish a golden age throughout the world."

A Buddhist prayer: "MAY I QUICKLY TAKE BIRTH IN SHAMBHALA, THE TREASURY OF JEWELS, AND COMPLETE THE STAGES OF THE HIGHEST YOGA TANTRA."

But for many of us in this skeptical age, this state may seem like a fantasy or a dream, or an achievement far beyond our reach. It is important to remember always that Buddha was a human being. He never claimed divinity, he merely knew that he had the buddha nature, the seed of enlightenment, and that everyone else did too. The buddha nature is simply the birthright of every sentient being, and I always say, "Our buddha nature is as good as an buddha's buddha nature." Thiis is the good news that the Buddha brought us from his enlightenment in Bodhgayya, and which many people find so inspiring. His message--that enlightenment is within the reach of all of us--holds out tremendous hope. Through practice, we too can all become awakened. If this were not true, countless individuals down to the present day would not have become enlightened...

THE SKY AND THE CLOUDS

So whatever our lives are like, our buddha nature (our Christ-conscious mind) is always there. And it is always perpect. We say that not even the Buddhas can improveit in their infinite wisdom, nor can sentient beings spoil it in their infinite confusion. Our true nature can be compared to the sky, and the confusion of the ordinary mind to clouds. Some days the sky is completely obscured with clouds...

We should always try and remember: the clouds are not the sky, and do not "belong" to it. They only hang there and pass by in their slightly ridiculous and non-dependent fashion. They can never stain or mark the sky in any way. So where exactly is this buddha nature? It is in the sky-like nature of our mind. Utterly open, free, and limitless, it is fundamentally so simple and so natural that it cannever be complicated, corrupted, or stained, so pure that it is beyond even the concept of purity and inpurity. To talk of this nature of mind as sky-like, of course, is only a metaphor that helps us to imagine its all-embracing boundlessness; for the buddha nature has a quality the sky cannot have, that of the radiant clarity of awareness...

THE PROMISE OF ENLIGHTENMENT

In the modern world, there are few examples of human beings who embody the qualities that come from realizing the nature of mind. So it is hard for us to imagine enlightenment or the perception of an enlightened being, and even harder to begin to think that we ourselves could become enlightened.

For all its vaunted celebration of the value of human life and individual liberty, our society in fact treats us as obsessed only with power, sex, and money, and needing to be distracted at any moment from any contact with death, or with real life. If we are told of or begin to suspect our deep potential, we cannot believe it; and if we cannot conceive of spiritual transformation at all, we see it as only possible for the great saints and spiritual masters of the past...Underlying our whole outlook is a neurotic conviction of our own limitations. This denies us all hope of awakening, and tragically contradicts the central truth of Buddha's teaching: that we are all already essentially perfect.

Even if we were to think of the possibility of enlightenment, one look at what composes our ordinary mind--anger, greed, jealousy, spite, cruelty, lust, fear, anxiety, and turmoil--would undermine forever any hope of achieving it, if we had not been told about the nature of mind, and the possibility of coming to realize that nature beyond doubt...

The wonder of this promise is that it is not something exotic, not fantastic, not for an elite, but for all of humanity; and when we realize it...it is unexpectedly ordinary.

    

  
  