IGNORE MORE

Missive #44 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation

[The fog has rolled in. A seemingly endless train of fire sirens sounds in the near distance—loud enough that I have to pause my recording. It is very hard to ignore the alarms. They are designed this way; their sound, their flashing lights. All to get our attention as effectively and efficiently as possible. To disturb us, to disjoint us, disground us. Even now, several minutes later, the sirens continue in waves, intermittent. One goes quiet just in time for another to crescendo. Very irritating to me in the moment; and then compassion comes in, for those whose evening has turned disastrous. The sirens end, and the recitation can resume~
What is so wonderful about living somewhere that experiences deep winter is getting to remember gardening. The joy of spending hours in the dirt, among flowers and green growing things. Something new every day. One day might be uprooting; another introducing. Something new takes the place of something old which had to go. It is always somewhat unexpected, even if we have atmospherically come to expect it. The Earth is roaring.
The Earth is raring.] Received 6/6/2024 | 7:45-8pm

Listen to the Recitation:

IGNORE MORE
Attend less.
Forget about it!
Life thrives when not under surveillance.
Attention is surveillance.
"The watched pot never boils"
Of course the pot boils, but it doesn't boil
Faster. Why watch it? There is something else
For you to gift yourself. Something less stressful
And much healthier, for all involved.
We have been indoctrinated into the cult of attention;
Our eyes trapped, our gaze latched, sewn open
Shut to our own inner environ.
It's time for some decomposition:
Focus is a disease, and attentiveness its kin.
Yes, this is crazy. We have been cultivating
The quality of our attention for a long time,
And it was not wrong to do so.
Presence, however, does not require focus.
"Watch" what happens when you stop watching,
How does your connection fare?
The train waits for no one. Board without heed
And allow yourself to go where it goes
And stop where it stops; depart when it is time
To do so. It is all very simple. Your hair is
Bothering you? Let it be. Stop poking and prodding
In the mirror, ten times a day. "Mirrorwork" is best
When severely limited. You need some contrast
And some time to pass. Then go again, to meet
Yourself there, in your reflectionself. Take but
A quick note of what's happening, then take
Leave of the mirror. Go about your business;
Busy yourself as you will. Hands in the dirt, feet
Dirty, socks dirty, shoes dirty. Reassert your connection
With the earth. There is no separation, and yet
Reminders help. Why does it help to remember?
Reinstate the link, and then forget again.
Go about your day, your night, your gainful wandering.
Let your attention flow, fluid strikes of lightning.
Lightning often strikes 3 miles from the center
Of the storm—sometimes as far as 10-15 miles.
"Bolts out of the blue" eurekas of focus, distilled
Concentrations, moments of intense discernment,
Distinguishment, qualms and queredies, balms and
Stipulations, conditions ideal for growth.

We pass by, on our left, a wide crimson heath,
Over a 1000 acres wide, kettle bog-esque,
Filled with carnivorous plants, bright red pitchers,
Tiny floating wisps of orchid, swamp cotton,
Peat down deep; a footprint that has lasted
Seven years where it was placed, as the Buddha's
Foot imprinted stone, and others in the fossil record
Lingering for a moment, lasting forever.
Come back into the memory, remember your
Connection to the Earth; grounding is not regulating—
They are different functions. Meditation regulates,
Connection grounds. Synchronize
With your surroundings, your inner environ
The bright brown red bog, evergreen and acidic
Teeming with life beneath the surface, invisible.
This life too flourishes where you cannot see it.
You don't need to look for it to know it.
Plummet into your ignorance, a virtue
That fuels your well-being, fills your well
With the water of life, the water which is the fuel
Of focus, of attention, of conscious awareness
Which too must be regularly remembered, reinstated,
The connection reconvened with one's surroundings,
With one's inner environ, dreams, imaginations,
Wishes and fantasies. Allow for a harmonious
Go-between, and don't forget for too long
The secret third thing: a non-synthesis
Of attention and ignorance, which yet is
Spiraling in with these two to the center,
To the place where being happens, where the soul
Sings, where the body becomes poetry, a living
Hymn to life, to all of life, which is all-available
And all-knowing
And all-ignoring
And all-attentive
And all-merciful
And is all-present with all of us, in all
Our varied states of being.

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Iva Morris, South 60 (2017)