I’m not sure exactly what this book is; I only know it is a book of contradictions. A collection of poetic prose and prosaic poems, roughly half of which were written over a period of 25 years, and the other half which were written in seven wildly inspired months. Its creation has not been linear. Which is fitting, because it is (at least ostensibly) about the Awakening Path, which is also neither linear, nor paved with lotus petals. (Much to the chagrin of thousands of us eager seekers.) But most of us who have come to this path began from a place of such discomfort that even a road strewn with thumbtacks and stinging nettles seems preferable to remaining at home. These not-quite poems outline the peaks and valleys of the path, in a semi-autobiographical (and largely fictionalized) way. Original and beach-reading-suitable topics such as Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal Ideation, Psychosis, and Psychedelic Peak Experiences are intermingled with Societal Grousing, Voyeuristic Judgment, and Direct Pointing to the illusions fabricating our sense of identity, and our world as we conceptualize it. (Mental health issues suck, but there are ways to slip through their gnarled clutches. This is an abstract abstraction of what worked for me. {Results may vary.})
You are reading this blurb because you want to know if this book is written for you. And that’s fair. Honestly, it was just written, so I’m afraid I can’t help you decide. If you are looking for a collection of Feel-Good Inspirational Fridge Magnet Poetry, it’s possible that you might be disappointed. If you are looking for a book that will take your hand and lead you directly into the blissful floodlight of enlightenment, it’s likely that this will leave you sitting in the dark, considering whether to just touch a match to it to receive a few minutes of guaranteed illumination. It doesn’t really matter who it is for. It just needed to be expressed. Let out. Let go of. With its publication, its purpose has already been fulfilled. You don’t need to do anything, and you never have.
See? It’s not really a Dharma book, but it’s not not a Dharma book. (Various Buddhist names get dropped, and mantras dutifully chanted.) It’s neither a poetry book, nor not a poetry book. (Some of the words even rhyme!) It exists in a superposition of ambiguous possibility… at least until you read it. Then instantly, you will make it into something. Isn’t that a travesty… Why confine anything by one limited and arbitrary label? Perhaps go buy a nice vegan cookbook instead. Or how about a spy thriller? I’ve heard people seem to enjoy those. Follow your gut, at least for as long as it feels safe. That’s the core message in it. There, I just saved you 400 pages of inscrutable reading. Don’t label, don’t assume, and do what feels right, as long as you aren’t acting out of old traumatic habits that could use a loving touch to be healed, and can then be left behind on the lonely shore of fragility and self-definition.
Have you made your decision yet? It’s fine if you haven’t. Just pay attention to what it actually feels like to try to make that decision. Does it feel like you are forcefully doing anything? That you have a choice? Free will? (If so, then you might actually get something out of reading this book…) In your direct experience, do your straining muscles force a choice to be made? Doesn’t the decision appear long before you’ve noticed the gears clicking and formulating something out of nothing?
Leave it. If the time is right, you will find the book in your hand. Otherwise, it wasn’t meant to be. Go on, enjoy your life. Go for a twilight stroll. Let your body swing and shake and writhe like you were possessed by Terpsichore’s less talented sister, even when the only music you can hear is courtesy of chirping crickets and distant traffic. Poke your nose deep into an orchid. You probably won’t smell anything, but it’s nice to see the familiar from a closer, fresher perspective. (It’s always been right here, even closer than your invisible face.) And in the end, a life fresh and contrivance-free is the only thing that will break us out of our exhausted, apathetic trance of insignificant daily minutia. However you need to get there is just fine… Anyway, good luck with all that. It’s been nice chatting. Now go buy that cookbook.
