sharehome wanted for yogi and poet, east-coast Australia

feature image by Irissiel

I am a poet and yogi looking for a sharehome with creative soul-minded people. I was born and raised in Adelaide, moved to Melbourne for a career in literary publishing, then travelled half the world only to find mySelf in Australia at Chenrezig Buddhist Institute, southeast Queensland.

I’m a 33-year-old male studying transpersonal psychology in his spare time and practising a hermetic/heuristic form of eclectic spirituality based on teachings from Nature, spiritual masters, literary geniuses and musical prodigies. It’s all dharma if we choose to see it that way. I’m looking for a place to live where I can set up home for the longish term, with people who are on the spiritual path, somewhere between southeast Queensland and south-coast New South Wales.

I guess you could say I’m a semi-confused, half-recovered former hippy-careerist: I stopped using drugs in January 2017; my head half-spontaneously sprouted dreadlocks in 2015; my Saturn Return started in 2013; I quit my job and started travelling in 2011; I’ve been a seeker of mystical truth since birth in Adelaide, 1983.

I’m looking for a sharehome that would ideally be drug- and alcohol-free, but knowing the creative soul-minded community, I appreciate this is … well, idealistic. A home characterised by moderation in moderation would be ideal.

I am a man of open mind, heart and spirit who loves to communicate thoughtfully and explore emotional sensitivity for its creative and transformative beauty. I work hard at being the best man I can be, and I tend to expect nothing less from the people I share my time and energy with. So I’m looking for a sharehome of progressive, compassionate, intelligent and creative people who are working on themselves to make the world a better place from within.

I live a life of simple material pleasures and intricate spiritual ones ~ above all I value and pursue the evolution of Consciousness. I observe celibacy as a spiritual practice and identify as non-binary / gender-neutral. I am currently weaning myself off tobacco and caffeine, with a view to establishing a yogic vegan diet by the beginning of 2018.

I currently receive unemployment benefits with a temporary exemption to give me some time to recover from depression without having to look for depressing menial work (which I have done my fair share of throughout the years). I’m doing really really well in the mental-health stakes, and I look forward to being self-employed again as a poet and healer by the beginning of 2018 while I continue studying Eastern psychology at dharma centres on the east coast.

I value honesty, trust and open communication. I am allergic to passive aggression, manipulation and self-righteous indignation. I embrace the differing lifestyles of others and I expect the same in return. For example, I prefer to have the dishes done before bed, but I don’t berate myself or others when this doesn’t always happen. I’m one for having rosters and rules we can break for a laugh.

I am a clean but not-exactly-tidy person ~ I value order-in-chaos, and cleanliness, but would prefer to share a home that is lived in rather than a house that is always impeccably clean and tidy. I love to cook and share food with home-mates. I love adventure ~ camping, trekking, cycle-touring and learning how to eat native weeds without going the way of Alexander Supertramp. I studied permaculture in 2015, discovering that I have a heartfelt affinity for soil and compost. I love to garden and salvage materials from building supplies to coffee grounds.

I love talking shit and having a cackle over a cup of tea in the morning. I also love getting my meditation practice done before I emerge into the home so my moods are not hanging out everywhere. I’m far less moody these days, since I purged a lot of demons in January.

^^^I am, clearly, an essayist as well as a poet.^^^ I will probably post this on my blog later 😀

bus-stop pranayama 

I just unlocked a revolutionary new addition to my meditation tool box ~ secret public pranayama … I think I will call this asana Reclining Bench Half Lotus 😀

I was feeling anxious after being out in public and picking up on weird vibes from the clamour of egoic materialism and couldn’t wait to get home for my midday pranayama sit, when I thought, Why wait?

I tend to forget that people are generally more absorbed in their own thoughts and distractions to notice anything less than totally unusual, and there’s nothing unusual about a guy sitting on a bench, breathing with his eyes closed behind wraparound mirrored sunglassss.

So I went for it. I used a count I was able to recall from the Prana Breath app, and with just a few breaths I noticed the prana shift out of my head, neck and chest, deep through the belly and out through the nose, taking with it all the strange not-Self shame I must have picked up through empathy in my goings about the world:

when I feel shame these days and I can check back through my recent actions and see I have done nothing to be ashamed of, I naturally wonder where it comes from ~ it is either old shame that rears its head, or it is shame I pick up from others, and either way it is not mine;

I see it, and by seeing it I am able to unsee it, to let it go, to not identify with it.

It’s very liberating: shame is such an awful feeling, so when I can choose to let it go, spontaneously a sense of rest comes to me and I am able to sit with myself and see that everything is a-okay.

I’m learning through these experiences that shame and anxiety are inextricably linked ~ what I used to think was anxiety now feels like a deeper older emotional blockage, a sense of not being right in the world, a deep sense of unwelcome, fear, and self-loathing. 

Shame is connected to not being true to yourSelf, because if shame is the feeling that you are the mistake whereas guilt is more like reasonable remorse for having made a mistake, then guilt can be avoided by learning from mistakes of behaviour and not repeating them, whereas the only way to avoid shame is by changing your entire way of being, which requires a meditation practice of mystical proportions.

It can be done (I know this from such direct experience as mentioned above), but it requires un-learning a lot of things we were taught about our roles as human doings, and a lot of re-learning (Re-membering) our true function as human beings.

Our purpose and function as sentient human beings is to witness and evolve the Beauty of the Cosmic Consciousness, and we do this by finding stillness in the inner environment ~ the witnessing and the evolution comes naturally in that stillness. No one has to know we’re doing this, and it’s something that can be done at the bus stop.

That’s pretty exciting!

But not half as exciting as the cushions I found at the Superfood Cafe here. I think I could get used to this secret-public-meditation thing.

Time for some Reclining Butterfly, maybe a hit from the bong of the Reclining Corpse … 

this is how I will re-enter society without resorting back to self-medicating against the actually-quite-weirdly beautiful Vibes of the Cosmic Verse.

monday musings of/on the masticating machinations on/of the mega-ego

chew this cud baby,
and then spit it the fuck out:
swallowing other people’s shit is neither healthy nor wise

Mondays are supposed to be my Sabbath/Uposatha days and I’m supposed to be going inward, and writing from the soul is a way of doing that, because I will combine yoga with shamatha meditation in pursuit of samadhi, with long writing sessions and eventually I will be doing equally long sessions of analytic meditation, wherein many ideas are teased out before I hit the Staedlers or the Mont Martes.

I’m able to write more slowly now, even though I’m extra-ordinarily excited about doing this soul-writing course, with Jeff Brown no less.

This man has inspired me so much, and this course is going to be as formative as the creative-writing courses I did in Adelaide all those moons ago. My attitude has returned to something more original, and I’m glad I got the publishing-career aspect out of the way, the same as I got much of my rebellion … my misguided rebellion … out of the way early in my adolescence.

I am remembering this now: by late high school, when I perceived a lot of goodie-goodies going the way of the bottle or the way of the bong, I recall feeling glad that I had got this out of the way early, because by late high school I could already hold my drink, and my marijuana habit was well enough underway that no one really knew about it.

When I say I got this out of the way, I guess I was deluding myself, because what seemed then to be a moderate recreational practice was actually already a rather extreme and potentially dangerous habit. Nonetheless, I was a happy drunk and always have been, except when I’ve been a super-sad drunk, but never a punchy drunk. As for my ganja habit, it’s enough to say that I sincerely once believed that I was using ganja for fun, not to escape from anything.

I seem to have been blessed always and early with a strong constitution, both physical and psychological. Ruby Lucy (my resident naturopath and Chakradance sheila) was always vaguely and reluctantly impressed by my ability to maintain composure and eloquence in altered states of consciousness, and last night my friend Samwise (my resident expert in Christian theology and philosophy) concluded our quality Facetime with a comment about how I seem to have been able to jump off the deep end numerous times without going permanently insane.

He said, “Your sanity must run deep, because I’ve seen too many others jump off the deep end and never come back because they jump off without a leash.”

I was able to express to him that on some deep level, the presence of friends like him in my life are a big part of my leash.

On some deep (albeit temporary) level, we know our selves through reflections in others, and during times of wandering in the dark woods of the soul without an easily accessible leash back to my true self, it is remembering how others love me that I have come back ~ at least, that’s one mechanism I have discovered. When I can’t remember who I am because the Hairline Fracture has [h]opened into a Chasm of Chaos, I have been able to remember, at least, reflections in others, such as times when Samwise and I sat down at the Exeter to tease out the nature of manhood (which we concluded can be summed up with the word “responsibility”) over a few pints. That’s just an example, of times when I have sat down as Ryan Paine with Other Names to talk with other physical human beings called whatever.

When I was in the psych-ward emergency room feeling afraid that I would not wake up if I fell asleep, I did wake up, hugging my passport, drivers licence and Medicare card. Literally, I woke up in the foetal position, hugging my passport wallet. I didn’t fall asleep this way, I happen to know. I feel asleep with … oh yeah, I also had my bankcard … but I fell asleep with these three cards in my hand and my passport wallet in the backpack someone had grabbed for me as I was getting into the ambulance. In the ER I used some of the hospital’s “valium”, which seems to cause me to sleep walk. When I woke up hugging my passport and began the process of calling the nurse and shuffling my way to the ward in the best Ken Kesey impersonation of my life, I asked the guards if I had been violent or aggressive while I was asleep. I didn’t know – I had been fearing death by poisoning when I feel asleep, and, sadly, I do know the violence I am capable of. They all smiled at me and said, “No mate, not at all.” I guess they had been watching me as I scrounged around in my backpack in search of my passport wallet. Maybe I said something funny in my sleep like “Where’s my hamburger!?” Who knows.

Anyway. I do know who I am now, and something beauty-full about this knowing is that it’s a knowing that I am, for now, both the identity on my passport and everything that Ryan Paine is not. I both feel and think that this is a knowing OF, compared to a knowing ABOUT or AROUND.

I feel I am closer now than ever, to knowing the true nature of my Original Face, because just now the word “face” made me think of the word “interface”, which now reminds me of Thich Nhat Hanh’s idea that we “inter-are”.

Our human identities are an inter-face ~ a user interface (UI) if we want to go full matrix on this: our human identities are our earth-facing constructions, the complex of beliefs we have accrued about who we are in human form, so that we can tell the time for long enough to make use of this, our fortunate human rebirth; our UI is not something to be ashamed of or afraid of when we begin learning (with our human mind) that we are also something else entirely as well.

Although, with that said, if you do get an opportunity to stare directly at your UI with the full force of your true and actual Consciousness, I do highly recommend it, because the way I see it we have two options:

  1. continue suffering the low hum of misery that comes from suspecting our human IDs are not our whole constitution, without having the courage to actually face the false beliefs of our poor little ego

or

  1. face the music and understand that although our ego plays a demonic orchestral shit-storm of chaos a lot of the time … of ignorance, greed, hatred, fear and shame … our Consciousness plays a song so beautiful that you will never, can never, look back

You can’t see the back of your head yeah? In the same way, you can’t see the face of your receding ego once you have stared fully into and said, as you have yearned to do for so long, “Fuck you arsehole.”

Note the absence of an exclamation mark (which a dear friend Kathy Kitchen once called an explanation mark), and understand that to me, this kind of internal self-expression is far more an explanation than it is an exclamation: when you confront your ego and say just something like this, it understands something like what Justin Bieber said:

My mamma don’t like you,
and she likes everyone
[something something]
so you should go and love yourself

It doesn’t have to be an angry missive like mine was when I was doing the yoga of the perceptually challenged at the stupa of enlightenment, but it does have to be assertive. I just happen to have a lot of with-held anger, and that’s okay.

It’s true, of course, and don’t get me wrong / don’t project your beliefs onto me please: I understand that we need our ego, our human interface, for the time being. But once you’ve seen your ego for all that it is, in all its heinous glory, something fundamental shifts and suddenly, as if by magic, you become the master.

That’s all for now. I’ll do some more meditation now before I start on the next post, because this morning has already been a massively insightful Monday, and if I don’t at least try to process some of it internally I will wind up in the loony bin again, which, touch my wooden noggin, I actually wouldn’t mind ya know … I made some killer friends in that place.