This is serious play.  Accordingly, there is a joke (hidden) within the very title of this journal.  It often comes up that I practice the subtle art of hermeneutics, but the relationship of this practice to oneiric otium is never explicitly mentioned.  My otium is certainly not otium cum dignitate.  I'm indecently public about my laziness -- ( Read more... )

The opposition between duality and non-duality (or unity) is perhaps the most insidious of all oppositions. Even more insidious, perhaps, is the opposition between oppositional and non-oppositional action ( Read more... )

A sense is (n)either subject (n)or object, (not) sensitivity and/or (not) sensation ( Read more... )

...in order to demonstrate that ( Read more... )

1) When I write, it is not just: I don't just write ( Read more... )

An anonymous friend recently asked me about what I am trying to do here, and what do I have to say or do to contribute to his own liberation and the liberation of all beings. This deserves to be made explicit, and so I'm answering this question in it's own post. To people who know me or read me, this is obvious, but for others, it is strange and ( Read more... )

In a brief meditation this morning, I found again that the poetic imagination brings theory and practice together into the communicative action of language. This is poiesis (mis)understood ( Read more... )

Today begins winter, the perfect time for hermetic hermeneutics -- the earth so near to the sun, yet receiving so little light throughout its dervish-like rotation. Winter brings light into the nearness of distance, making possible the birth of the filius philosophorum, the infans solaris, the hermaphroditic mercurius, the Christ. With the ( Read more... )

See how in their veins all becomes spirit;
into each other they mature and grow.
Like axles, their forms tremblingly orbit,
round which it whirls, bewitching and aglow.
Thirsters, and they receive drink,
watchers, and see: they receive sight.
Let them into one another sink
so as to endure each other outright.

-- R. M. Rilke

It's strange that I've withdrawn so much from writing here. I'll try writing again, soon, but I have absolutely nothing to say anymore. Of course, having nothing to say is no excuse for not saying it. I learned that poetic truth from a muslim friend of mine. None of us has anything to say, and each of us must learn to say it ( Read more... )