What kind of person do you want to be?

I wanna be the man who I am...one who stands at the frontier of his potential....Davy Crockett hat cocked at a jaunty angle in lieu of the blonde mullet he would love to replace the John Malkovitch horseshoe when unshaven with....and at this frontier...taking the motherboard of his personality and flipping it so that the habit-encrustation over the wiring flakes off to reveal a rainbowscolourworth of samskaras, pain, love, joy, fear, angst, ennui, tabboo, memory, dischord, empathy, shame, talent, guilt, regret, love of shoes, love of sex love of yoga love of the integral vision love of The Reality Game......and then selectively dismantling some of this wiring using a magnifying glass that hopefully isn't narcissism though probably is...but probably is better than always...because narcissistic attenuation is a time-consuming process and is the lens and not the wiring to be cut ....and cutting is what I do with the precision of a surgeon on a ship in a force nine gale performing an appendectomy....scalpel please nurse....here we go....>lurrrrch< ...ooops...shit....suture please....uh okay let's try again....ooooooopppps!!!!!!...hey nurse how the fuck am I gonna explain these hundred and twenty stitches on this guy's lower abdomen....yes taking oneself apart chodlike at the frontier is not for the squeamish but there's tantra for you...not all fun rumpy-pumpy but a dislocation of the senses as Rimbaud put it on his mixture of levi-athan post-rennaisance modernist magic and hashish ( a deadly drekking combination as i found to my cost in the early 1980s but that's another story)....deconstructing at the frontier...an all-but gentle collapsing (David Byrne got it wrong)...and all this wire-cutting punctuated by the bomb thing going off in yr face in an admixture of core shame, betrayal, overwhelming affect, disrupted prana and filth, rage and ecstacy (same thing those two at their zenith of intensity)...cutting...the wires, the bomb..at the frontier...

...and all of this opens out space to step into in wonder as the stars evidence the sky in the wake of a torrid sunset....and that's the place this small person I am loves to inhabit...between the being and the becoming in the rapt splendour of the open sky....every step small and giantesque..every paradigmatic egoshift....it's another movement forward through the cupboard and off out into a new Narnia..

Speaking of which Narnia 2 is out soon....jus' love Tilda Swinton....why that woman hasn't got a mantlepiece full of Oscars is beyond my ken.....

Anyway....this red-shifting frontier of self  in the secondtier integral life practice is just a fucking gas and I urge you all to stand on the lip of the Abyss with me and punch the air singing We Will Rock You cheesily forceful as a red-neck before holding hands and jumping Out en masse

And guess what? You fly rather than fall.

Warmly, Jon xx

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