So, Who Are You… Really?

Samadhi and the God-laugh of creation

         I found myself one night sitting back with my eyes closed and witnessing what I could never truly describe but what I can best suggest as the dynamic, uncreated, convulsing, primordial energy of the universe; the fiery, orgiastic rippling cauldron of molten prima materia, cascading about within me, and then pouring out into the world as form; and it was upon opening my eyes that I recognized what I had never conceived as plausible- that I was carrying within myself this living, undulating, cosmic clay which I was projecting out and thus manufacturing the world; which is to say, I knew then that …I was God, and that we are all God, effortlessly producing a world yet without a clue of how we are doing it. I was making everything that night. The whole thing. That is, I was making the world, but not the I who the world thought I was, not even the nobody who I was, but the I which lives before the me in all of us; the original self, casting out the glowing, red, swirling energy of creation, out of the core, out of the mind of God, out into the realm of form, figure, and content.

         And let me tell you I was laughing. I was laughing a laugh I had never laughed before in my life. I was laughing God’s laugh- the God-laugh which has never known care, nor worry, nor entrapment; the God-laugh which sprays out the universe from the immanent, infinite, incomprehensible bliss of formless consciousness; the great, emancipating God-laugh of hilarious nonexpectation, disbelief, and ambitionless wonder at the impossibility and unavoidable realization that I, God, was creating the miracle of creation.

         I had come to exist in the non-existent space. An infinite bridge across a finite chasm. A flame within an inferno. A drop inside the storm.

         I was in the storm. I was the storm. And everything else sped up and catapulted through the living stasis of my soul. It was an exhilarating, innocent act of creation; I gave ground in the hollow of my wonder and the world grew through that infinite hole. The unworldly, horrible stillness in which I basked seemed impossibly to produce the song of everything else. How is that possible I haven’t a clue. Not one.

         I can only presume that the whole shmeer about becoming what you are, or what you could be- but as yet you never have been- eventually comes right back to where it started- to you. But when it gets there- and let me tell you it gets there, with all the fire and brimstone of your day- there is no ‘you’ left to conceive of it. Because, instead, you conceive it, immaculately conceive it.

         That night the prisoner and the warden had changed places. Good and Evil fused into one. And God leapt up for joy inside of me.

         The primitive understandings which had so embalmed me all my terrible and fabulous life instantly vaporized away, and the Creator’s eyes …looked through me. The pulsing, primal, fluid medium flowed out of me, I did not know what I was making, nor how I was doing it, but to be sure it was me.

         When finally you encounter the Great Soul, you will not hesitate to call it I. You are the source of all things. All of it. Like the root-stock of a great underground rhizome, when you stick your head finally out of the ether, whoever is around you …is you.

…from IN AND OF, by Jack Haas


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    • Edger on July 20, 2009 at 10:10 pm

    …but a reality to be experienced.

  1. the holy trinity of DD… First Buhdy, then Rusty, now Edger.  lol.

    Is OPOL gonna make an appearance next?



  2. What if the hokey pokey is what it’s all about. Good essay good reading keep it coming. Keep sticking those feet out and shaking them all about.

  3. people might suddenly evolve, wake up and grow new brain cells the far more likely scenario is the dystopian Mad Max world of roving gangs pillaging for food.  

    In the millions of small ways we could save the enviornment lamestream propaganda tells us a tax is needed because we burn stuff making CO2.  That is even more profane than jet fuel imploding the three towers.

    Honestly what do you think will happen when the American Idol set can’t get to the empty supermarket shelves or the closed banks.  That is not going to be the Kum-ba-ya oneness of the peace and love hippie generation.

    I can’t grow anything and have a “black thumb” but I can fix just about anything, know horses, off the grid disease cures and am developing that psychic sense of detecting people who will be a major problem.

    We may indeed, each and every one of us have that magical power of Jesus Christ himself as we are made in the image of the creator.  But nobody ever told us what we are.  The ultimate joke is on us then, if we have to leave this physical world and enter the next one to understand.

  4. think I’ve taken leave of my senses, but I’ve been amusing myself lately making small clouds dissipate.  It makes me laugh to see the look on my husband’s face when I do it the one, and only the one, he’s pointed out in a group.  A baby step toward embracing wonder, and minor mischief.

    Those of us who are not gurus or zen masters have no sense of our own amazing interconnectedness with the world around us, because we don’t know how to experience it.  Except, perhaps, in small ways.

  5. A little while ago,( maybe an hour) I was walking with my companion, a parrot I call Coconut, as I do every evening.

    A vehicle stopped & the driver advised me that there was a bird on my shoulder.

    Not to sound a little “snooty” I told this stranger that I was actually being dragged about by this infernal avian monster.

    That started up a conversation about why he thought he`d ended up on this dead-end street talking to me.

    Within minutes I challenged him to come into my compound & see some wonders that were unimaginable to him, if I could be so presumptuous.

    Now this is one big “mofo” biker dude, but as a lifelong judge of character, not a threat in any way.

    He just left my house, & I have a new friend who asked if he could bring his children by to visit my house of “mysteries & wonders”.

    This complete stranger spent probably over an hour in my house, & left with something he did not have before we met on the street.

    Who am I.

    Someone a little better, than a short time ago.

    • rb137 on July 21, 2009 at 6:18 am
    • Edger on July 21, 2009 at 6:39 am

    from The Smoker You Drink, The Player You Get

    • Diane G on July 21, 2009 at 12:47 pm

    this is who I am, said with the laughter of eternities….

  6. “Never treat a brother like a passing stranger

    Honey, won’t you always try to keep the love light burning

    Sing a song of love and open up your heart

    For you might be the prince of peace returning

    Yeah, you might be the prince of peace returning” – Leon Russell…  

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