🌷 Landfill of Tulips + 🌕 Jampa Check-In

WARNING: This post & poem contains wisdom from sages of the ages and ramblings of a deluded mind. It's unclear which is which, as we explore debauchery, Impartiality and radical love.

Hello Friends and Benefactors,

Happy Full moon. At 430 MT today I will be doing my usual smoke offering. Maybe our prayers can kiss under the moonlight.

As I was reflecting on the 34 factors of my Precious Human Rebirth and wondering in bewilderment on how the hell did a Macho Man Randy Savage Bro turn into a Yogi and have all of these puzzle pieces land so neatly, this poem and image arose.

Enjoy!

Landfill of Tulips

I fucked her on the hotel sink, 
	and I don't even remember her name, 
So busy filling the hole in me, 
	Blind to the goddess in her.  
	
Ohh how Samsara sings, 
	singing us to sleep. 

Belittling my own friends, 
	all to impress a girl, 
	or win a silly drinking game, 
A man chid at its finest, 
	who for so long, 
	lost the gift of simple kindness. 

Ohh worldly dharmas,
	how you cast 
	your charm upon us. 

How the flaming thorns of my words, 
	have scorched so many kin, 
all because this glacier of frozen resentment,  
	burned to melt,
and be truly seen,
	as the puddle
	and simple shiny rainbow that I am. 

Ohh how Samsara sings, 
	singing us to sleep. 

Chasing titles like Managing Partner, 
	and that ephemeral success, 
While secretly to me ,
	this cave of insignificance, 
	Terrified and drove me. 
Longing for a shower of praise, 
	I missed an ocean of intimacy
	in every breath. 
	
Ohh worldly dharmas,
	how you cast 
	your charm upon us. 

This burning need to feed greed,
	and this bottomless blackhole of debauchery, 
consuming me, 
	and my integrity, 

Ohh how Samsara sings, 
	singing us to sleep. 

I would laugh at it all, 
	if it didn't hurt so much, 
Luckily for me, 
	in the rearview mirror, 
Disbelief and gratitude 
	dance in the back seat.  
	
How in the hell did I get here?

I could have never guessed it, 
	this was not in any of my grand plans, 
Maybe they are right,
	and I am lost 'searching for something', 
Or just maybe,
	a path led to this path, 
Either way, 
	a fool sings and a slave dances, 
But I finally found, 
	the game actually worth winning. 

Weird simple rules she has, 
craving tricks 
	and enslaves us,  
anger burns 
	and imprisons us, 
while dear old ignorance 
	blinds and binds, 
	
But in it all, 
	through it all, 
somehow, 
	someway, 
something mysterious shines. 
Unfindable, 
	yet compassionately she guides. 

a tender sweetness, 
a love of truth, 
a love of love,
something buried within us all, 
that wants to lose itself, 
not to fill a hole, 
but to give it self, 
to this greater whole.

I don't know how I got here, 
	Maybe I do believe in miracles,
But I do taste 
	karma and grace. 

The proverbial they say, 
	don't judge a book by its' cover, 
Well this fool has discovered, 
	books can write new stories.
And it's too damn hard
	to truly tell someone else's' story. 
	
So I have been carrying it around 
	for way too long,
 I surrender this sword of judgment, 
	to pretend to know who someone is,
	or who will they become,
	
For in today's landfill, 
	when the light is just right, 
my heart also sees 
	tulips dancing in the breeze. 

What do you see?

Per usual, the poem is the pith. Jampa check in below and some contemplations that may be of worth to some.

In the Buddha Dharma, often we have these fortune cookie sounding expressions:

- May all beings have happiness.

- May all beings be free of suffering.

In trying to truly embody the above, never mind just regurgitate it, I have been spending a decent amount of time contemplating the often unseen and under-appreciated sibling of Love & Compassion- the noble abode of Immeasurable Impartiality¹.

Basically unbiased loved and compassion. If there is freedom for all, this even mindedness allowing love for all.

As I embrace hermit life and listen, contemplate, and meditate 14ish hours a day² - my homeboys and ‘spiritual friends’ have been masters such as the sweet & spicy Patrul Rinpoche, the razor's scalpel of Nagarjuna and the erudite mason of Tsongkhapa. To mix analogies, two images often come to mind.

1. Just as they frack the earth with water and dynamite for natural gas, I feel like my psyche and heart-mind are being fracked, flushing out insincere Bodhicitta.

2. while simultaneously I feel like a house lifted on to stilts while a new foundation is being put in.

And one of those bricks is how these masters poke at how our love will be superficial and impure if not rooted in true impartiality and even mindedness towards all beings. Although usually 4th in the list³ , the masters are having me start with Impartiality first which is so interesting.

• For how can we have Great Love for all, if we bias and prefer those in our in group? Whether our own families, political tribes or simply those that make us feel good?

I know this is antithetical to the American nuclear family ideal. For this capitalist machine does not just operate on the fuel of greed, but also outcompeting our neighbor to lovingly provide more for our own.

This impartiality also challenges progressive Woke Culture and identity politics with its ironically 'egalitarian' hierarchy of disenfranchisement and victimhood.

But Sacred is sacred. Equally.

It's easy to think that, to feel and embody that I painfully have been trying to embrace.

To cautiously use my own neurosis as an example.

In my analytical mediations I notice how my love is often biased. Tainted. For system/healing nerds see this David Foster Wallace footnote (here⁴).

• I notice a gravitation towards many good friends who embody the receptive feminine, are highly empathetic, attuned, and channel deep wisdom. The beauty I love in them is true (somewhat) but also my love is subtly corroded by my own mind.

• I also notice an aversion to other friends and acquaintances. Know it all self-righteous types who are always speaking at me, have it all figured out - including enlightenment - and never attune to my world in the slightest. Once again my karma is causing aversion and even tainted love.

But if you're fortunate enough to meet holy beings of this world like Garchen Rinpoche, fortune cookies manifest into footsteps. You don't just see, but feel how he sees the divine in all of us. He loves ALL beings like a mother does a child. Thus, All life is equally precious (and empty).

Embracing true impartiality is a Radical view.

It is Radical Justice.

And thus an Immeasurable Radical Love.

From what this fool can tell, this Radical Love is all fueled by and rests on clarifying sea of impartiality.

None of this is that novel. But this is what hit me while reflecting on my own debaucherous life that sparked the poem above.

I could have never guessed where I ended up. How did "Macho Man Randy Savage" turn into a Yogi? I couldn't even of dreamed it (thank god some dreams don't come true). It's stupefying. And not that I am special or something, but what I am pointing to is that we don't truly see people -for all that they are OR could be. We can never truly know who anyone is. Or what they could become. Never mind what is ready to ripen at any moment⁵. We see our fleeting (biased) perceptions of them. A complex curry of my projections, concepts, feelings and karma of "in here" and this "person" out there".

I saw myself 15 years ago. I didn't really like him, but I did love him. And I could have never known. This is not about some makeover or transformation story, but about a clarity of perception to see what was actually always there all along.

And that's the crux of this rambling meets analytical meditation. Most of us don’t see our beloved clearly. Nor our strangers and nor the obnoxious loud talker at Starbucks. It's radical, but if you prefer the newborn baby over homeless Jim, you are partial. If there are racists and sexists, most of us our patternists with our love and compassion.

This is not demonizing loving your 6 month baby. But rather underscoring what the John Churchhill’s of the world claim, that that secure attachment to your young child, that unconditional love, attunement, delight and protection etc can be scaled to everyone in the world (basically Budhahood) — and Immeasurable Impartiality is the foundation for that even minded Love for ALL BEINGs.

Yet even tho we can't truly see an objective them, our hearts can see something.

1. It can see that all beings want happiness -- from the house fly to narcissistic presidents (not naming names).

2. All beings want to be free of suffering.

3. All beings have been our mothers, sons, or best friends⁶

Thinking that is easy. Truly seeing that with the eyes of our heart, never mind living that - now that's the real work. Yet some of us weirdos, can take the Responsibility and Resolve, in this moment, in this breath, what will I choose to see?

Will I water that seed of divinity or burn it?

This was all conceptual candy for both your mind (mostly mine). Hopefully the poem was nourishing Jampa curry for your heart. It's a little spicy - but I blame my new best friend Patrul.

I love you all.

With *aspiring* boundless love and impartiality,

Jampa

🌕 Howls of Crestone 🌕

An unofficial collection of monthly Poems and reflections while on solitary retreat:

1. Sacred Songs of a Fool (audio)

   Exploring sound, prayer and the sacred in a cynical world.

2. Breakfast with My Old Mothers

   How Views create our worlds, Rebirth & Intuitive Wisdom.

3. Landfill of Tulips

   A spicy poem & exposition Where we tackle a phoenix rising from debauchery, Boundless Impartiality, Radical Love, & Woke Culture's anti-love.

4. Broken Chains of Connection

   A true story of Karma and Grace shining in the desert.

5. Deadly Potato Transmission

   Eating Potatoes to D.I.E. for we go down the potato hole of impermanence + Emptiness via Jampa's killer potatoes.

Dedication Prayer

(insert Jampa's sonorous very off rhythm bluesy whales)

I pray that for however silly or small, 
that this tiny drop feeds an ocean of benefit
	to all beings
	finding greater truth and boundless love, 
	and complete awakening. 
I pray this is not a shadow 
	a fear of insignificance, 
Not a distraction
	but an offering upon this greater mandala, 
	a strategic upaya of generative bodhicitta,
I pray for us to all die well,
so that we may we live well. 

To all my Kin in <insert realm>, 
May all my mothers
	and brother beings, 
May all my sisters 
	and Father beings, 
May all my sons
	and daughters, 
May all My children, 
	all my children of the 3 times,  

May they Have happiness 
	and the elixir of love, 
May they Be free of suffering, 
	and the causal chains of self grasping,
May they Soak in sunshine 
	of timeless Joy, 
And may they swim in Impartiality, 
	free of hope and fear.

1. upeksa or equanimity

2. My traditional Zen and Theravadan friends may be concerned - omg he is conceptualizing and writing. Rest assured, in this Level 1 (out of 3) phase of retreat half my time is spent in Shamatha the other half in preliminary practices, analytical meditations, study and contemplation. Concept is actually breaking apart concept. As I transition to Level 2 &3 writing like this wont be skillful, but at the moment it feels like skillful means for both myself and you via this greater mandala. But that's a knife's edge and i am deluded fool so who knows.,

3. Four Immeasurables or Four Brahmaviharas

4. The systems nerd in me stumbled on some fascinating insights around how my own patterns, "parts", and maladaptive schemas such as Self-rigtheousness, defensiveness, judgmentalness, and resentment AND HOW they mapped and formed a sophisticated meta array of patterns as they relate to the 8 World Dharmas which is our common attachments and aversions:

- Hope for Happiness/Fear of Suffering,

- Hope for Fame/Fear of Insignificance,

- Hope for Praise/Fear of Blame

- Hope for Gain/Fear of Loss.

Traditional Humanistic Therapy would be self-centered on my feelings and a never ending game of wholeness, still bound and thus in bondage by these jungles and deserts of these 8 hopes/fears. Some spiritual communities and people might subtly spiritually bypass and shun those patterns as "empty emotions". I intuit a middle way, especially rooted in an altruistic Bodhicitta motivation. Basically parts work meets Lo Jong Mind Training, but the mind training overcomes these at a deeper root via the 8 dharmas that "integrating a part". Focusing on Impartiality & Love, and thus mitigating these attachments, seems to short circuit the self-grasping of the pattern. Thus why Garchen Rinpoche is a broken record that if you still see self and other, then love is essential. This is a rich topic, probably another god forbid healing modality if its not already in other systems, and to avoid being self-centerd I am skipping over a lot of this juice.

5. "Apart from myself and those like me, no one can judge another person" ~ The Buddha via WOMPT)

6. 1. If you posit the claim of the continuation of consciousness after death whicht here is more evidence for than not,

2. an infinitive loop of Big Bangs, expanding and then contracting universes, rinse and repeat

3. then contemplate and do the math of beginingless time, yea you end up at this weird and uncomfortable "belief"