Experience from a Deck Chair

I was looking out into the sky from my deck chair on my balcony.  I had an immense sense of being the space (created by the eyes looking out from the head that  could not see itself) in which the clouds and other forms like birds flying by were arising and subsiding.  I got a sense too of any thoughts that arose as coming into the space from "out there", rather than emerging from within my head.  They just passed through without getting stuck.

What made it so much more powerful was the sense that I was pinned to the very edge of the universe looking down into the universe (my part of it, my world).  It was such a strong sense that it gave me a scary and yet delicious feeling of vertigo.  I felt my back (which I  also could not see, and never can, no matter where I am) merging with an infinite Space behind me. A Space far vaster than the universe itself (my field of experience).  It felt as if the universe, as immense as it is, was contained in a sphere and I was pinned to it's outer surface with my back merging with the infinite nothingness (formless Consciousness) outside it.

I felt the space in front of the eyes (the space in which all forms arise and subside) merging with the infinite Space behind.  The more I sensed the Space behind merging with the space in front, the deeper the sense of expansiveness I felt and the more I sensed that I was that Space.  I felt tapped into something vast that was immensely peaceful but also immensely intelligent.

I still have this sense now (not as strong) when I anchor myself in the body and look out of my head into the space that contains my computer screen.   A space of awareness in front, and a sense of  vast space behind.  The forms in the foreground (arising and subsiding) AND an infinite Space in the background, both merging with each other through the aliveness of the body.


Reflections From A Deck Chair 

I gaze into the sky below
stuck to the ceiling of the world
by an invisible force
that makes leaves fall in autumn,
breasts sag with age,
daredevils hurtle from planes,
water cascade into ravines,
chairs collapse under the fat,
snow avalanche from cliffs,
rain patter onto roofs,
and ostriches stay earthbound
as much as they might want to fly.

Written: 1997 (on a holiday in Turkey)